[This journal is pieced together from email written during a recent short trip to London.] 

SFO. Made it to the gate without any trouble whatsoever. The plane is even supposed to leave ten minutes early. We shall see about that.   

Oops. I spilled my coffee all over the floor right next to my backpack. Shihzit. I don’t think anyone saw me ... so I’ll just walk away from the mess.

***
Didn't sleep much on the flight. Sat next to a guy from Chico with a crazy story. Something about how he owns a one-of-a-kind hill-climbing car and was bringing it to some auto show in the Cotswolds. He was on United, but the car was flying over on Virgin. Was I dreaming?

Now I’m checked into the hotel near Marble Arch. It is downright balmy outside. Sunshine and 70 degrees. People basking in the Hyde Park sun.

The hotel is kind of like a W but in a worn-out London kind of way. Room is very small even though I was coerced into upgrading for the "free" internet. No free breakfast though. Bitches.

***
I’m engaged in a vicious battle—downright technological warfare—to connect to the Internet. Not sure this war is over yet. The stupid thing keeps logging me out for NO reason. No apparent reason I should say. There’s always the chance of operator error.    

***
I’m staying on the fifth story, above a quiet street called Old Quebec. From my window I can see a pub called “City of Quebec.”    

After getting situated in my room, I took a stroll around the area and then stopped in the “City of Quebec” for a beer. Turns out to be a gay pub. Oh well, I might as well enjoy the beer.

***
A guy with a heavy Italian accent asked if he can sit at my table. “Excuse me,” he says after a few minutes, “but are there two l's in the word silly?" I let him know that yes there are two l’s in “silly.” He thanked me and says he’s illiterate. I tell him there are two l's in that word as well.   

***
Ate dinner at a chain called Spaghettihouse. Very ordinary food.

Drama for the evening occurred when the all-American family of four next to me became agitated—maybe Mom and Dad had just a little too much of the cheap Chianti. It went down like this … one of the two boys, the younger one, must have said he didn’t like sports or something outrageous like that and Dad just couldn't shut up about it.

"Go ahead and ruin your life,” said the Old Man. “See if I care.”  

Arthur Miller play come to life in London.

***
I just experienced a major panic attack back at the hotel. I thought my passport and credit cards were gone—and how quickly my mind pounced on that suspicious-looking kid in the elevator. Luckily, after a frantic I’m-about-to-tear-this-room-to-shreds search, I found my stuff n the little nook RIGHT NEXT to the in-room safe. Why would I put them there? Stupid me.

***
2 AM. Wide awake. Jetlag begins.

***
I didn’t sleep much after 2 AM, so it’s going to be a bit touch and go at work today (and I have meetings until 5 PM). Argh. Nothing to do but plow through it. Need more coffee pronto.

***
Getting to work was pretty easy. I started early to beat the morning crush. First, I caught the Tube to Waterloo (4 stops) … then I hopped on a train for a 30-minute ride to the EA office in Guildford. Work went well. We even had time for a stroll around the old castle during the lunch break. Now I’m back in London, crossing the Thames via footbridge and getting pelted by a massive rain storm.  

***
After the rain, I walked to the Leicester Square discount ticket booth. Found a good deal on All’s Well That Ends Well at the National Theatre. It was a bit of a scramble to get to the theatre on time—and it didn’t help that I got lost along the way—but got to my seat with a couple of minutes to spare. Sweaty, soaked, and thoroughly exhausted, and ready for some Shakespeare.

***
The performance was good, even if I dozed off a few times. Took the Tube back to the hotel. Bedtime now. Lights out.

***
I didn’t wake up until 8 AM. Sleeping in was great, but it also meant that I got to experience the full-on sardine crush of the London Tube commute. Other than the commute hell, it was a good day at the office. We even squeezed in another short walk during lunch.

After work, I decided—for some reason that escapes me now—to walk from Waterloo station to my hotel.   

***
Have I mentioned yet how heavy this laptop is? I feel like I'm carrying a house in my backpack. So, again, I must ask myself the question, why did I decide to walk back to the hotel with this thing on my back? Dizzy in my head. I can’t explain.  Back in the room now. With insanely heavy laptop safely tucked away in the corner.   

***
I woke up and checked email. My lunch meeting was postponed ‘til Monday, so I hung out in the room for awhile plotting out the next few days. My back is sore from all this traipsing around—with the fricking laptop.

***
I decided to take it easy for the day. Tonight I’m going to see Hamlet with the fabulous Jude Law in the titular role. There are some other plays I would see while in town, but most of them seem to be sold out. It could be that I'm out of luck. O well. I suppose I am doing plenty already. 

***
I was in the middle of a nap ... when the hotel decided to test the fire alarm. A-holes!

***
Hamlet was very good last night, and I ALMOST cried at the end when Hamlet Jude Law died. Almost.

It’s now 9:30 AM, and I'm standing outside the Donmar Warehouse theatre. Waiting for a chance to buy a ticket for today's matinee performance of A Streetcar Named Desire, featuring Rachel Weisz as Blanche “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers” DuBois.

If I get a ticket, it will probably be standing room only. And, I also won't be too bummed out if I don't get a ticket ... because it will probably be standing room only. And because I will be standing all night at Wembley for U2.

Life is rough for a culture vulture in the UK.

***
I got the Streetcar ticket. So now my day of standing is officially set. Tennessee Williams in the afternoon (Stellllllaaaaaa). And then a rock-n-roll extravaganza tonight at Wembley Stadium. In order to get ready for all of this standing, I'm sitting now at a cafe called EAT. Somewhere near Covent Garden.  

***
The London Tube is amazing, but it is also running way, way, way beyond its capacity. Maybe I can say that for the entire city of London, too. Insane pace and congestion. I’m squashed and jostled at every turn.

***
Oh, I just experienced an acute case of queue rage. It wasn't pretty. Thankfully it wasn’t addressed at me. 

I’m on the train again … this time heading to Wembley Stadium. That's right the Wembley Stadium. A mecca of stadium rock awesomeness if there ever was one. Let’s see what Bono has to say—a mouthful I’m sure. But I can’t help it. I do like the sound put out by this band.  

***
After a long day yesterday, I got off to a slow start today. Eventually, I went to a very-out-of-the-way Museum of Brands, Packaging and Advertising. There was supposed to be an exhibit on the history of Guinness beer. Unfortunately, Time Out magazine was premature in announcing the exhibit. Bummer.

***
I'm on the Tube again. It’s really hot. Stifling. I’m on the way to yet another Shakespeare play … this time it’s Troilus and Cressida at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. And again I will be standing—just call me groundling—because those were the only available tickets. Just call me glutton for punishment.  

***
Home tomorrow. Just had my last business meeting. Lunch at the Tate Modern. Window seat. Very nice. Looking out over the River Thames. St. Paul’s Cathedral and all of those cranes across the London skyline. No play tonight … I plan on hanging out at the hotel … maybe watch the Track & Field World Championships from Berlin. What will the Jamaican Bolt do next?

***
I am now at my last cultural stop for this trip (and really this is the one thing I really wanted to see. It’s the David Byrne installation called “Playing the Building”. It’s in a big round building aptly called the Roundhouse. There's an organ in the center of the room and it is connected by many wires leading to motors and grinders and whistles and other noise-making things. People are lined up now to sit at the organ, and indeed they are playing the building.

*** 
My last morning in London. I'm on my way to Heathrow. The cab was late, which was starting to freak me out. Fortunately I asked for an early pick-up just for such an occurrence. Smart boy. Always thinking.  

***
Well what do you know? I was just bumped up to business class. Not sure why but surely not complaining. The flight attendant is coming around with champagne now. The friendly skies just got a lot friendlier.

Next stop, San Francisco. Home.