I Talk Ugly: Heathrow, Monday, 17:10 local time

(written at the wireless-less Heathrow airport...

I am surrounded by English accents.

They are beautiful.

I am sitting at "itsu", an Asian-esque eatery with a quaint, line-drawn butterfly logo, at Heathrow. I have spent exactly $20 here today. It is the only place that, I feel, has nice, fresh food. Vegetarian sushi and edamame with pickled ginger, topped off with a cup of vanilla frozen "yoghurt", which actually retains the tartness of Greek-style yogurt, with dark chocolate chips. Add to this the chocolate samples – dark Toblerones, Hotel Chocolat, and Lindt truffles – being served up at the Duty Free shop hourly, and I've had quite an enjoyable layover.

Although I must admit…I am desperate for something to happen. Not something horrible, like my things getting stolen (typing this is accompanied by a frenzied glance towards my two carry-ons), but something like…finding a hundred pound note, or, although if this actually happened I'd probably regret it, but my plane getting delayed. Perhaps I'd even be satisfied if someone asked me where I was going, or running into that flight attendant from the plane from JFK to London who recognized the "Deerfield Academy" on my drawstring carry-on. She glanced it as I walked off the plane, called out, "I know Deerfield! Congratulations!" and then disappeared as a rush of passengers, eager to stretch their legs and find their connections, flooded out of the aisles.

A few minutes after we boarded – well, a few minutes after we took off about a half-hour after we took our seats – the flight attendant announced, "If you'd like to adjust your watches, the local time in London is 3:21." I contemplated my hour hand as it moved five rotations around the face of my watch; I pondered time, such a human construct. And then I wondered about whether I should try to sleep, seeing as I only had three hours until sunrise…in London. But I wouldn't be there in three hours. I decided I'd try to sleep, a little. In the end, I got in an hour. Now, at Heathrow, there are some nice modern-style couches…perfect for napping. But travelling alone, I fear that I'd fall asleep and miss my flight. Hopefully staying away all this time will help me fall and stay asleep on my 12-hour flight to Johannesburg.

Right now I'm enjoying listening to the two ladies chatting at a table beside mine, despite the fact that hearing their lyrical gossiping reminds me how ugly my "American" accent is. I am kind of ashamed to talk here, although after only speaking a few words for so long, I am desperate for any conversation. Instead I've had to occupy myself with browsing in bookstores and the Duty Free, and eating far too vast quantities of edamame.