My flight to London went fine and was rather uneventful. I did get to see snippets of the second season of “Little Britain,” which was thrilling as the novelty of that programme has not worn off for me as it has for so many people. Anyway, I met Sarah in Heathrow; she was already there, hanging with Becks, and looking more blonde than me. I really need to remedy that with some blondification. Upon reaching Becks’s house, which is in a lovely little neighbourhood in Hammersmith or Fulham (depending which neighbour you ask), I was a lame ass and went for a nap while Sarah and Becks watched Monster-in-Law. Apparently that was no big loss on my part.

We met Vanessa after she got off work and found that the entire Fulham area was in the midst of a blackout, which made the pub we hit quite cozy and, erm, I guess you could say romantic. I’m a big fan of candlelight and white wine. Ooh baby, ooh baby. Ness and Sarah buggered off at around ten or so, and though we’ve learned from past experiences that leaving Becks and myself alone at a bar is never, ever a good idea … well, it happened anyway, and somehow I ended up pulling a guy who claimed to be South African but who sounded like a Scando - and he said I had “gorgeous lips,” which is one I’ve never heard before - while Becks pulled his Australian friend who, contrary to Becks’s believe, was most assuredly bald, as she kept stroking his head.

On Thursday, we met Sarah, Steph, Alison, and Christina for lunch a quaint little Italian place downtown, which was lovely. Christina ‘broke’ the news of her engagement; I use quotations because a little bird, *cough*Mel*cough*, let us all know that she had a secret, but wouldn’t disclose. Pretty easy to assume, though. And the ring! Oh my word. I’m a big fan. And I’m a big fan of the fiance too, especially because, upon greeting me, he didn’t say hi but instead exclaimed, “You look skinny!” which, let’s be honest, will make any girl love a man. Haha. After lunch, we went to the pub next door for a glass of wine, then Becks and I departed for her flatmate Maya’s birthday party, which was being held at a Thai restaurant in Fulham (I just realised that I actually don’t know if I’m spelling that correctly … ah, screw it) called The Blue Elephant.

And what a place! It was done in Thai forest decor, with trees and vegetation everywhere so as to make every table very intimate and quiet, and had a stream running through the whole restaurant, which turned out to be huge though it looked small from the outside. We were at the ‘top table,’ meaning we had a private room to ourselves, and enjoyed a lovely wine with the meal, which was orgasmic. Yes, orgasmic - or a ‘party in the mouth,’ which is not an expression I use lightly, as Mel knows. Whew. Plus, everyone at the dinner, with the exception of myself and Becks, was a doctor-to-be, which made for some quite intelligent conversation. Don’t get that every day!

Friday was the humdinger, and yes, I did just use the word ‘humdinger.’ That was the night of Becks’s birthday party and our St Andrews reunion of sorts. Pregaming began at six; it was going to begin later, after we’d eaten (bah), but Xan jumped out of a dark corner at me and Camilla as we were returning from buying mixers, so we had to entertain him, and drinks help that process, I swear! I was still pretty sober when everybody arrived, however, so that was okay, and after a couple more hours of pregaming, we all headed over to Crazy Larry’s, some random cheesy club that was fabulous. Sophie and I both bought bottles of champagne (sadly, I can hardly remember the second one, but I’m sure it was fine) in honour of Christina’s engagement, and Sophie cried as expected, and I ended up sliding off my stool - again, as expected - and the entire night was basically the same drunken chaos that existed when we were all at St Andrews, and yes, I did end up in a dark corner with a random guy … twice … and then I got bored and continued doing my ‘white man shuffle’ dance moves, complete with the biting of the lower lip thing that I think I picked up in When Harry Met Sally, which is concerning. Why can’t I absorb some of Beyonce’s moves? Honestly. I am so sexy it’s unbelievable. Haha.

The end of the night is always entertaining. Ruth, Becks’s flatmate Doug, and I got into a cab, shouted for Becks to come join us but were ignored, and then enjoyed an irate phone call from her when we were on our way back to the house because we hadn’t told her we were leaving. Ah, Becks … you make-a me laugh. Sarah, Sophie, and Claire went back to the hotel of some Irish guys, and two of the three pulled (score). Becks, Cam, and Christina, among other people, jumped into an unlicensed cab but eventually made it home safely, thank goodness. I’m not going to describe the car because a) I wasn’t there at the time … funny that, and b) Sophie already gave the best description ever, so read that instead.

Okay, I’m knackered from writing this - obviously out of practice! Will continue tomorrow. I just know you’re excited. But as it is … I’m going to watch “Desperate Housewives,” which my dad so kindly taped for me on Sunday, and then figure out my life plan. Wish me luck. I’ll probably end up singing some cheesy song instead.

But just for the record, the weekend was great. Fabulous at times, good at times, feckin’ random at times, and even a bit frustrating at times, but I can honestly say that at no point did I have a bad time, which, let’s be honest, is definitely a good thing when one is on vacation! Thank you again, Becks, for letting me stay with you, and Chris, congratulations once again. I’m so happy for you two. And I’m so happy that you’re going to let me give a speech … muahahaha. Looking forward to the hen night’s madness already.