sambecker.com/blog

The fabulous twenty-three on the door to my mews. Now that I am safely on my way back the US of A, I can divulge the secret location of my English whereabouts:

23 Beaumont Mews
Marylebone, London
England W1G 6EN

You can write, but I doubt my subsequent tenant will be forwarding my mail. I am somewhere over Greenland in a Boeing 747 as I pen these thoughts and reflect on my hurried morning, the last night in my cozy flat and my last thirty-six hours in London.

I got up early in the morning on Wednesday and ran in Regent?s park. I visited the design museum (leave it to me to go to the design museum on the last day of my design education), walked around the harbor area near Tower Bridge and capped off the day by sitting in on a parliament session (that?s House of Lords and House of Commons, I?m no slouch)! They spoke about topics as varied as Turkey?s accession into the European Union and the state of Football (that?s Pele not Payton) in England. There were no outbursts, as SNL would have me believe, regarding the national under-appreciation of Teletubbies.

Later that evening Gill, Karen and I went out to a late Mediterranean dinner near St Christopher?s Place. We did this in lieu of the proposed activity by the industrial design contingency: the Circle Line Power Hour. This project would entail getting on London Underground?s Circle Line at the Edgware Road stop and riding the entire twenty-six stop circuit, drinking a minimum of two gulps of beer at each stop. I desperately wanted to go, but dinner intervened and I thought the quality flatmate time was more important and memorable (memorable, as in I would literally be able to remember it).

When we got home Karen went to finish her final paper this term (jeeeeeeeez!) and Gill and I joined Tom in the living room to play a little go fish (which was exponentially more fun because we drank like fish at the same time)! Gill was already packed, so after the game I began the thankless task of organizing the rich tapestry of papers obscuring my floor so that I could eventually put them and all of my other belongings and acquisitions into bags and boxes. I did this at a leisurely pace to stay up with Gill until her cab arrived—she had a 9:30AM flight so her cab was scheduled to arrive at 5:30AM. I made it till five o?clock before she relieved me of my post. In the meantime we had managed to annotate her scrapbook (she borrowed my wit to ensure its interest for posterity), clean the kitchen and squeeze in a little Dr Phil (his simple outlook on life and Texan sensibilities are not wasted on the English). We said our goodbyes and I promised to call her the next day when I arrived in Chi-town … which I almost certainly will.

I got up the next day at 10AM by some stroke of luck. I managed to creep out of my naked bed and tip toe out of my room which was vacant, save for the thick layer of film on the carpet. I looked myself in the mirror and decided that I would run in Regent?s Park for the last time even though I was on five hours of sleep and my cab was due to arrive at 11:45.

I finished in record time and was able to shower and migrate downstairs by 11:20. At this point I realized there were several things I still needed to do before leaving her majesty. I had a sack of change to be converted into bills, I needed to pick up more joint vitamins that I fell in love with at the local Boots and I wanted to get my book on the London Underground graphics system signed by an anonymous tube employee at the Baker Street stop. I really only had time to do one of these things and I think I made the right decision. With twenty minutes to go, and fresh off of my run and shower, I booked it to the station in the rain and grabbed the first attendant I could find.

He thought my request was quite curious, but obliged and then took me upstairs to give me a poster-size map of the underground which I will cherish forever.

… wait, flight announcement, the gentleman next to me just passed the most potent gas I have smelled in months—let me just dry my eyes and try to stay on task …

I made it back with two minutes to spare though my cab was already at my door waiting for me. I loaded in my inordinate amount of bags and we were off. He even took me by KPG (one of our school buildings) so that I could drop off the tripod I borrowed (to take some night pictures on Oxford Street, which, of course, I never got around to) and pick up the NTSC VHS tape my video teacher left me of all of the video projects I did this semester.

I finally made it to the airport with bags of time and slowly made it to the United check-in desk. Once it was my turn, I directed my unruly cart of luggage and slowly advanced towards the counter. The young lady behind the desk saw my crazed expression and the tower of terror in front of me and immediately began frowning. ?Are those all yours?? she asked. And then, ?are you sure you?re traveling by yourself?? she queried. ?Well that?s definitely going to cost extra.?

I told her my name and where I was going and then the most miraculous thing happened.

… ok, second flight announcement, I have just been hit with a second wave of flatulence and I must say it smells uncannily like the in-flight meal, but played in a minor key …

She told me, carefully studying her teleprompter, that it stated at the base of my record that I had an unlimited baggage allowance. She said that someone had flagged my record for this privilege and that they were going to waive any potential fees. I happily gave her my three enormous duffle bags—each, I?m sure, violating a weight or orientation rule—and made my way to the gate.

Once there, I just sat down, rested and thought about this week?s and this term?s madness. At one point, I even got out my laptop and responded to Jason?s treatise on the conflict arising between modern robotics and our global, multicultural workforce. Just before we began to board our flight, I called my father to try and use up my Orange Mobile top-up minutes and also to alert him that the Christmas goose was about to fly the coop and to make sure the necessary preparations were readied for my arrival.

Once again, it?s worth noting that this whole voyage has been one wonderful—even educational at times—ride. I cannot wait to complete the second half of my experience by waiting to see what freaks me out now in America.

Sincerely, Homeward Bound,

Samma Lamma

PS I posted this, obviously, several days after I wrote it. I have been quite busy lately between my connecting flight to Syracuse (to help my brother move and drive home) and the all-nighter-car-ride-through-a-blizzard that carried me back to the windy city. But I am back now and fully enjoying my newfound downtime. I do wish I had just posted this just yesterday, as it was this site?s most-trafficked day ever—eight-hundred hits. Those of you who did not visit the site during that mad rush, please leave lots of thoughtful comments for me to read during this impending month of laidback bliss.