Dear Diary,

Did you know they call journals "diaries" here? And by journals, I mean daily planners. This was interesting when Ash barraged into the office the other day and said, "Where is Jenni's diary? I need Jenni's diary!" as he ruffled through papers on her desk. I was like, WHAT IS HE DOING AND WHY DOES JENNI HAVE A DIARY AT WORK? Another Americanism came into play this morning, before Jenni and Fran arrived. Jenni had instructed me to organise shelves of magazine copies in a small room off the big office, so I went over to Marie to ask for the key to the closet. She stared at me for a moment and then said, "CLAW-set? You mean cupboard!" Are there cups in this cupboard? Are we in a nursery rhyme?

Work is going really well. I'm still struggling to get used to this 9:30 to 5:30 business. I'm pretty good up until lunchtime but after that, I get really antsy. The magazine publishes a list of gift ideas, and it's my job to call the listed phone numbers of the companies selling the products to make sure it's a working line. This resulted in me calling France and having a very awkward conversation with a woman who spoke wonderful French but subpar English.

Jenni gave me a few tasks for the next two weeks while she's gone. I'm working on bits and pieces for the December wedding issue, and I get to call retailers and ask about the most romantic proposals they've heard of. Also, as I've mentioned at least 12 times now, I'm going to fashion week on Tuesday to collect business cards and also to get groomsmen/bridesmaid gift ideas for another feature. I'm getting important!! No more jam-filled doughnut runs (which was part of Thursday's duties, btw).

As a side note - Jenni and Fran went to an anniversary party for this famous designer on Wednesday night and guess who was there? Christina Aguilera. Like two feet away.

Before I came to London, I thought I would be using every weekend as a travel getaway. Paris for a couple days, Dublin, Edinburgh, Munich. But then I got a real job and realized, you know what - I'm really tired! Also, with all of my flatmates also working random hours, it's hard to plan things in advance, which is what you have to do if you want to get good rates. Anyway, I'm staying in London this weekend. Wendy, a girl from SLU who works at the American Embassy, and I are going to Windsor Castle and Eton tomorrow morning. I might go shopping with Nichole, Diana and Jon later in the day. Sunday, I'm going to Mass in the morning (I think I'll try an early Latin service) and then possibly to Buckingham for a tour of the palace and exhibit of Queen Elizabeth's gowns over the years. That night, I *think* I'm meeting a friend, Matt, for dinner. I met him on CatholicMatch and we've talked for awhile now. He lives and works in Manchester but is just coming home from Paris for the weekend, so he's taking me out for dinner. No cereal - at least for one night :) Hopefully it'll be fun!

Next weekend I'm thinking Dublin. We'll see how that works out.

Katie, Nichole, Diana, Jon and I went out to dinner tonight at a place called Nando's. Perry is obsessed with it, and he does have impeccable taste so I knew I had to go. They serve Portuguese food in a fun environment that they call "high class fast food". I shared my chicken couscous salad with Katie and her chicken pita and rice, and got peach juice - mmm. The chicken pita was medium spicy, and I thought my mouth was going to burst into flames.

Nichole, Diana and Jon were all kind of dead so they headed home while Katie and I went in search of a club at South Kensington. This is apparently where all of the celebs hang out, and Lindsay Lohan and Christina ARE in town, so we were feeling optimistic. We ended up just walking around for a bit. I called Dickon and invited him to come out with us, so while he was on his way, Katie and I sat outside the tube station just watching the world go by.

The world DID go by - in the form of four 20-something guys who wormed their way into a conversation by asking us where good pubs or clubs were. "We should have known that the first people we asked would be Americans!" they said, feigning shock as one plopped down next to me, another one sat down next to Katie and ther other two just kind of wandered off. My guy proceeded to tell me that he had just learned a technique to analyze someone's personality. This technique involved questions about the height of a fence, the color, shape and size of strawberries, and my feelings towards the farmer that I have taken them from. He kept giving me high fives and touching my arm. When I know someone is obviously hitting on me, I get REALLY ticked off haha. I kicked Katie through most of this agony. Finally, they seemed to get a clue and decided to leave. The guy stood up, shook my hand and then leaned in 'because Europeans give two kisses on the cheek." I said, "Well, too bad for you, I'm an American" and he looked kind of ticked and left. There was another guy, a bit older - maybe in his 30s - and French, who was sitting down next to us watching the entire thing, and when the other guys left, he turned to me and said, "That's total rubbish. You don't kiss people you don't know here." And I smiled and said, "Yes. Thank you."

So finally Dickon arrived, a bit too late to save us from the wanna-be mind readers. We went to a pub called Zetland Arms, where he bought both Katie and me drinks (Cokes!). It was a bit crowded so we stood by the bar and talked for a good 45 minutes. I got really excited when they played Van Morrison's "Brown-Eyed Girl." LOVE that song! It was so much fun. Definitely one of my favourite nights here!

And now, I am home. It's 00:05 on Saturday morning, and I'm meeting Wendy at 9 a.m. The caffeine is starting to wear off a bit and the flat is silent although the streets are loud. We don't have windows but we have a balcony, so we sleep with our balcony doors open (except when it rains - although sometimes we still leave them open even then). We're on the equivalent of the second floor, but I'm still worried that I'm going to wake up with a strange somebody sleeping next to me. It gets so warm in the flat, though, so the breeze feels so good. So far, so good, though!

I'm very, very happy. I go in spurts. I think it might be weekend fever (British speak: fevre?) getting to me. I just got off the phone with my dad, who wondered why I didn't write yesterday (I LOVE my fervent readers!). Anyway, off to wash my face, as my skin has decided to declare war against me this week.

LOVE YOU ALL!! Kisses, hugs.