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
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
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.
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