On a lovely morning, I landed at Heathrow, in order to reunite with my little sister for Christmas. Christmas crap, you know, excessive lighting, excessive shopping, reindeer, ultimate generation sledges, Coca Cola bears and Coca Cola Santa, but with my little sister. So lovely. Anyway…
To be totally honest, I will never know if it was a lovely morning, I am just taking a wild guess. I will never know how that morning unfolded, since my sister came to pick me up after lunch. It was mostly my fault, because I kind of agreed on her picking me up later. She said the transportation ticket is cheaper after 10 am or something. She never mentioned she will actually start getting ready to come for me after 10 am. And you should see her getting ready!!! She doesn’t believe in showers so she is taking daily baths. Long ones. She doesn’t believe in drying her hair with a hair dryer. She just sits there and lets nature take its course. Then breakfast, then coffee…And she is not overlapping activities, for the sake of saving time. No. One thing at a time, this is how she rolls. Now she sits there waiting for her hair to dry, then she sits in the same place to slowly sip her coffee. But only after her hair is completely dry! And the coffees are large ones. Long story short, she picked me up after lunch. I was almost sleeping on the floors of the airport. The only things keeping me awake were the sound of Romanian language spoken by gypsies around me and the love for the stuff I brought from Canada. You do the math.
My week in London was a difficult one. I was jet lagged the entire time and sleep deprived by a bunch of handsome sailors. I didn’t put them on my Christmas list, I don’t even believe in Christmas, not to mention I was beyond naughty my entire life and and I am pretty sure I wasn’t good in any of my past lives, not even when I was just a leaf on a tree. I bet I was a very sassy and misbehaved leaf. So, I can’t explain how I got to be sleep deprived by a bunch of handsome sailors. And I am not talking Popeye or Jack Sparrow kind of sailors! Nooo! I am talking the hot kind, the ones you can put on a calendar. I am now thinking if it was one sailor for each month, but I can’t figure it out. I was dazed and amazed and I didn’t know where to look first.
Sleeping in that house full of sailors was the challenge of my life. Not because of their awesomeness, because when I sleep, I sleep, even if I have next to me Brad Pitt, younger and Angelina – free version. But these sailors were everywhere, in all the beds and all over the floors. I tried sleeping in at least 2000 positions, Kamasutra style (Indian influence, you know). Sleeping in bed with my sister, her boyfriend and a kind of a cousin of the boyfriend didn’t work out. The boyfriend, while deeply sleeping, didn’t realize that his girlfriend (my sister) can’t have her big ass both on his left and on his right side. One of the big asses was mine but I guess when a guy is sleeping and finds an ass, he is grabbing it, doesn’t matter the owner. The sailor on the other side was doing the same and none of them seemed to be impressed by me constantly yelling STOP IT! STOP IT NOW! or by my ninja-like arm moves. So in the morning, one of them almost stepped on my head, as I was sleeping on the floor, wearing my jacket. I have no recollection of how I got there. The next nights I simply gave up sleeping. It was useless.
Of course, I didn’t miss the chance to see with my own eyes the tree under which my sister and her cute boyfriend make out. I mean, their tree, under which they share their love and feelings, in a romantic way. Ok, this sounds creepy. I will stick to the first version: the tree under which they make out. Yes, this sounds right. I was deeply moved (more like puzzled, but anyway…) to find out they also have a bench! You might think it is under the tree. But no! When they want some shadow, they go to Camden Town, where the tree is and when they want to sit, they go to Trafalgar Square, where the bench is (kudos to the Queen for the double-decker). You can find their bench easily, it is the second one on the right. If you visit the square, make sure you don’t sit on it. It is private property, ok? It belongs to an Indian boy and a Romanian girl. If you see a cute, exotic boy and a girl saying ohhhhhh, babyyyyy, every other two words, sitting on that bench, well, they are my little sister and my future brother in law. Also half husband. He said that if he marries my sister, I am his half wife. So I decided that this makes him my half husband. And also his brother. And some of his cousins. I will have to see them to decide which ones. Nevertheless, I look way better than my sister in a saree. She looks like she is ready for Halloween. Speaking of my sister, I have discovered she cannot pronounce Trafalgar Square unless she focuses really hard, until her eyes pop out of her head. If she doesn’t focus, she will say Trafalagar Square.
All in all, it was a nice holiday. I didn’t want anything for this Christmas, but I had my little sister, her boyfriend (my future half husband), a bunch of sailors, one lovely sailor girlfriend, great food (I love Indian food!), booze and no sleep. If you talk to them, they might say they are deck officers, not sailors. But there is nothing sexy in it. I wonder how many girls in this world dream of sinking a boat with a deck officer. While with a sailor…Mmmmm…
After I got home, I kept having two nightmares that didn’t let me sleep: one with someone that was reading my mind and one with a sailor grabbing my ass while sleeping. “Sailor grabbing your ass is a nightmare and not an erotic dream? “ you might ask. Oh, well, I am a complicated woman but this is another story.