Please

please please please please dear Lord in heaven, refrain from dumping even more snow on London so that my Thursday flight will not be cancelled and so that I will get home before Christmas. This is all I ask.

Although, if you could spare a second favor, an earlier flight would also be quite welcome.

It is taking every ounce of my concentration, as I sit in the lobby of this hotel in Notting Hill, not to break down crying as from the window I watch the snowflakes growing steadily larger. In order to combat the despair that will surely overwhelm me as soon as I am out of sight of the desk man, I am going to talk about all the things I have to be thankful for. They include:

Number One: My dad. He is a hero among men. I'm sure he had a lot of important things to do at work today, but as far as I can tell, he has been meticulously combing the Delta website looking for fleeting cancellations that would enable me to come home sooner. He succeeded in moving my flight up from Friday to Thursday, which, being the difference between getting in on the 23rd and getting in on Christmas Eve, is like, a big ol' Christmas miracle.

Number Two: My London roommate, Lea. She originally was in my situation, of having had her flight cancelled and not being able to get out until Thursday. She booked a hotel in Bayswater (near Notting Hill) and we were going to share the room. She managed to get on a standby flight this afternoon, but left her reservation so that I could use it. I am eternally grateful. The hotel is nice, and weirdly it's in the same neighborhood as the Eurolearn people had us staying in at the very beginning, so I kind of know my way around. At least, a few things are blessedly familiar.

Number Three: Britain's drinking age. I went to a pub down the road to eat dinner and get a drink after I checked into this hotel. When I ordered, I had sort of forgotten that I had eaten nothing the whole day at Heathrow. Sitting there drinking my Bulmer's pear cider, waiting for my food and reading my e-copy of Emma, I accidentally ended up a little drunk, which really helped, as Jane Austen would put it, "calm my nerves."

Number Four: Heathrow airport's left luggage room: Were it not for that, I would have either had to pay seventy quid for a taxi to my hotel, or I would have had to battle the Piccadilly and District lines with my giant suitcase, my tiny suitcase, my backpack and my computer bag. Thanks to Heathrow, I was able to store the two suitcases and just take my two little bags to the hotel. Which brings me to—

Number Five: H&M. I knew where it was, because I knew where the mall was from staying here in September. Since I stored all my luggage, I only had one change of clothing with me. I was able to buy some basics for pretty cheap, and I have a clean new sweater to wear on the plane.

The snowflakes look smaller now than they did when I started this post. That's Number Six.

Anyway. I am going to try to make the most of this. I am going to go back to the British Museum to see their travelling exhibit on the Egyptian Book of the Dead, and I am going to hit up the National Gallery. I might go see another show tomorrow. Who knows. This whole thing doesn't seem as much of a disaster as it did about four hours ago... that is, as long as my new flight actually leaves when it's supposed to. Touch wood. Perhaps tomorrow I will even be in a good enough mood to write the post I was planning on doing today: top ten things I would miss about England. We'll see.

Hope to be seeing you all sooner than I expect!

Love,
Catherine