I love how right at midnight they stop playing Christmas songs on the radio.
What happened to keeping the Christmas spirit alive all year long?

I guess it's high time I finished my story. Life just gets crazy, ya know? (I'll apologize now for the longitude of this entry, but these are moments that are very important to me for obvious reasons, so they're moments I never want to forget.)

After that wonderful hug, we sat there and literally talked for a half hour. He told me that I obviously have confidence to have opened up to him (part of my letter had said that I love his confidence and wish I had my own), but the most humbling thing for me was when he started describing me....and how dead-on he was. He said that I'm a quiet person, that I love the arts (dancing, singing..) and that I can live in my own little world sometimes....just the way that he described me so perfectly was so humbling, that he'd taken the time to notice things about me, as I'm sure he does with everyone...because he's just like that.
He talked about how he was just like me when he was my age, very withdrawn, but that life had toughened him up. I told him I wish I could be like him in the fact that he's not afraid to speak his mind (like at the incident a few nights before where he flipped out on another dance instructor at the gym....I will admit he'd been a bit too overdramatic, but the fact that he stood up and spoke up when something was bothering him...that's what I wish I could do), and he talked about how he's a very caring person, but he will let you know when something is bothering him. And he said how frustrating it is that people think he's an uncaring person because he does yell and get upset...that if you're a kind person people expect you to always be kind. And you are torn trying to live up to that expectation. And that's something I've always had a problem with, with being frustrated because people always say how nice I am and so I feel like I have to live up to this impossible expectation that everyone has for me and that keeps me from being myself. So hearing it come from someone else was almost a relief....it made me feel less alone. He said how he can be really stubborn sometimes because "siempre tengo razón" (basically "I'm always right")....it was just incredible to hear this man talk. He's not afraid to point out his weaknesses, but he's not afraid to point out his strengths, too.
I just couldn't believe how much I was opening up. I've had trouble my entire life doing that, had trouble opening up even to my family....and here I was doing it in Spanish to someone I'd just met three months before.

Maybe that's why I've come to care for Ernesto so much. Somehow, I don't know how, he's opened me up in ways I never knew I could open up. And he never did it intentionally...I don't think now he even knows how much of a difference he made in my life. But he did.

And my last night in Sevilla is the final proof of this.

We finally ended our conversation when the lights started to go out (the gym must've been closing up shortly thereafter), and Ernesto said he'd meet me the next day to help me one last time with my dance and to finally show me his dance video. After a few more hugs and kisses, I left.
The next day, he either never showed up or I missed him. (Though I scoured the aula de profesores and found his video myself!) I went to his aerobics class that night, so I saw him there. I'm really going to miss his classes....they were always so much fun and such a great way to exercise! (And I certainly never minded watching him dance ) When class was over, I scooted out because he was talking to one of the other guys that works at the gym, and I only had a half-hour window to say good-bye to my family before the farewell fiesta (since we'd be getting home late and we had to leave really early to catch the flight).....

...side story: Jorge said the sweetest thing a few nights before we left. I was eating dinner and he said about how sad he was that we were going to be leaving. It really touched me because I honestly never thought he cared that much about us. I mean he was always great to us, but he was so aloof most times. But maybe that was just his depression....anyway, it made me not want to go home even more.
Saying goodbye to them was really hard. Loli teared up and Cristina started to cry. I personally hate goodbyes.....I hate them with a passion. But they're a part of life that we can't do anything about. I'm just thankful I met and got to know these people....we got pictures with the family and hugs (I even weasled a hug out of little Jorge .....who'd knitted me a scarf!! How cute is that!) and then we left for the fiesta.

And that's when the real adventures of the night began. (And back to my first story...)

So I hadn't been concerned about not saying goodbye to Ernesto at the gym because I knew he'd be at the fiesta. He was always there to liven the party up and dance with us.
Except this time he never showed up.
My stomach sank. I was going to be leaving Spain for a long time in less than a few hours and now I couldn't say goodbye to the one person in Spain who had always been able to cheer me up and brighten my day. I waited until almost 11:30 (the party had ended at 11) but he never came.
(In that time José Luis...previously-mentioned receptionist....started a final conversation with me in which I think he tried to pick me up yet again....at least that's what I was lead to believe when he told me I was young and "guapa" and asked me if I had plans for the night...)
Finally the girls and I left. I felt bad for holding them up and making them wait, but I had this knot in my stomach because I couldn't believe I wasn't going to be able to say goodbye. But there wasn't anything I could do, so I headed with them to a bar in Santa Cruz for our last night "out on the town".
As I sat there with them, an idea struck me. During our conversation the night before, Ernesto had given me his e-mail address to keep in touch....but he'd also given me his home address. And sitting in that bar I realized that as crazy as it was, I had a way of making sure I could say goodbye.

I could go to his house.

I know, it sounds a bit stalker-ish and freaky. But as I said goodbye to the girls, saying I just needed to "walk alone" for awhile, and walked home to get his address, I knew it was something I had to do. My heart was screaming at me, telling me I had to see him one last time.
So I hopped a cab at 1 o'clock in the morning and went to Ernesto's house.
He doesn't even live in the city, he lives in a small "town" on its outskirts, and so the driver didn't even know how to find the street. I didn't either, so I sat there as we wandered through the streets of this strange town and worried that the 20 euros I'd gotten earlier that week from selling back my cell (and the only remaining money on me) wasn't going to be enough to pay for the taxi. But the guy finally found someone on the street who pointed us in the right direction, and the bill turned out to be about 16.50 euros.
I saw Ernesto's moto parked along the curb as I sat waiting for my receipt, so I knew he was home. And before I knew it I was standing there alone on the street. I was standing in front of one of my professors' houses at 1 in the morning. What was I thinking?! I'd tried coming up with what I could say to him during the taxi ride, but what do you say in a situation like that?
After a few deep breaths I pulled out the slip of paper with his address on it and found his apartment number on the outside phone system thing. And throwing all inhibitions I'd ever had aside, I pushed the button.
There were a few moments without any response. I was worried that he was sleeping (it was 1am). But there was finally a voice..."¿Quién es?" ("Who is it?") I told him it was Emily, and he asked again in a confused voice, "¿Quién?" When I told him again who it was, he paused and then said, "¡¿Mi alumna?!" ("My student?!") I said yes, and by that point I was really starting to get embarrassed and wondered what the hell I'd been thinking, why the hell was I there? He asked me how I knew where he lived, and I told him he'd given me his address....he asked me what I was doing there, and I said, "para verte otra vez" ("to see you again")....cheesy and retarded, but it was all I could think of to say. Then there was a pause, and when he spoke again his voice was softer but still with hints of disbelief. He told me to come in; the door buzzed, so I opened it and stepped inside.
The stairwell was straight ahead. He lived on the fourth floor, and I walked slowly up the squared staircase trying to figure out what in the hell to say to him. When I reached the flight of stairs just beneath his door, I heard it open...so when I turned the corner I saw him standing there.
Dear God....where the hell did I get this crazy-ass idea in the first place?!?!
I don't remember my exact words anymore. I just remember apologizing for being there so late. He said he had to get up early to catch a flight to Barcelona and that just made me felt worse and I apologized again for being there. But then he invited me in and sat me down on his couch.

And just like that we started talking like it was normal for me to be at his house at 1 in the morning. He told me that he hadn't made it to the fiesta because he'd had to work at the gym until 11 (a different gym where he also teaches classes) and with having to get up early to fly to Barcelona he just hadn't been able to make it. And he said how sad he was because he hates having to miss the farewell fiesta, but he just couldn't do it. He told me about this conference he was going to in Barcelona...something about trying to unite the schooling system so that students could study throughout Spain without problems (I don't really remember exactly what it was), but that he'd been chosen out of the faculty to go so although he really was exhausted and didn't feel like going he was honored and had already paid so he had to go.
He told me that I was one of the first people (if not the first...I don't remember) to visit him at his house. He said buying a house is such a big thing in Spain...everyone wants to have a house and all his friends and family had kept telling him he needed to buy a house. But mortgages are so horrible...he said he's paying around 500 euros a month on his mortgage. So he needs his jobs at the gyms, but between the center and the gym he has hardly any time to relax or spend time with friends. Like he'll leave his house at 7 or 8 in the morning and not get home until 11/11:30 at night. (Sounds pretty familiar to me! )
At one point I asked him how hard it was to teach, what with meeting students and then having to say goodbye to them (for pretty much forever considering they go back across the ocean at the end) after three months. And his response really touched me and made me wish I could just fix everything for him. I don't remember his exact words, but he said something like, "Me hace sentir vacío"...."It makes me feel empty."
We talked a bit more, and then he said something like, "Quiero enseñarte a mi casa" (basically he wanted to give me a tour of his house). So I got the grand tour.....his room with his tons of clothes, awesome pics of friends and family (it was at this point that I finally learned for certain his sexual orientation....at first he talked about his first girlfriend which confused the hell out of me. He said about how she was exactly like him, like a female version of him, and how connected they were. I don't remember why they broke up, there was something about her dog dying and them saying how they were perfect for each other and so I couldn't piece together that bit of story very well, but he said that they're still friends and try and get together every now and then. And then he pointed to a picutre of him standing on a beach with a guy and said that that'd been a boyfriend of his. At that moment the lightbulb went off and I was a bit relieved that my gay-dar hadn't been off all semester. He was just bye), and the stuffed animals he sleeps with (a black dog, winnie the pooh and eyore)....the guest room from which you can see the skyline of Sevilla and the Giralda out the window.....the mini dining area (he complained about how he didn't even have curtains or anything up in his house. I told him at least it was a house, and he was like, "Yeah, you're right") with a cubbard full of books and stuffed animals (many presents from ex's and the like) and a newspaper articule with a picture with him in the cast of that music video.....the kitchen with the sink full of dishes because the housekeeper hadn't been able to get there that week (though I assured him it got that bad at our house, too!).....and the bathroom where he keeps his stereo system and collection of CDs. Yes, I can totally see this man singing loudly in the shower.
After the tour, we talked a bit more (it was at this point that he actually showed me all his stuffed animals and the newspaper articule) and walked towards the door for me to leave. We hugged, and then out of nowhere he said, "Quiero darte algo." ("I want to give you something.") I was like, "Ernesto, that's okay. You don't have to give me anything," but he proceeded to his room where he scrounged around for a few minutes in his dresser drawers looking for something to give me. He kept saying he couldn't give me this or that because it had been a gift for him, and I kept telling him not to worry about it. But he said something that I'm still not sure about....he said he wanted to give me something because - and I think here he might've said, "te quiero" ("I love you"). I might've misheard. He could easily have said "lo quiero" or "le quiero" which would mean because he wanted to. But my heart leapt nonetheless.
After finding nothing, he left his room and went to a small box in the dining area that held random photos and things that he hadn't been able to organize yet. And as I looked nervously around the room, trying to displace my discomfort that this man was hell-bent on finding something to give to me, he pulled out a rubber ducky. He said he always used it when he bathed, so it was something that meant a lot to him, and for that he wanted me to have it to remember him by, "con todo mi cariño" ("with all my heart"). 

Yes, the man gave me his rubber ducky. (But we are also talking about a man who sleeps with winnie-the-pooh and eyore.....oh how I love this man! )

He then gave me a big hug and said softly, "Te deseo.."...,"I hope that you continue making people happy like you've made me happy this semester." All I wanted to say was that he'd been the one to make me so happy all semester, but I couldn't find the words. I don't remember much else that he said at that point....we walked to the door and he came out on the landing as I got ready to leave. His final words of encouragement were that he believes that we all have happiness inside of us, we just have to find it and use it. We hugged one final time and he told me to be sure and e-mail him. All I could say was "Por supuesto" ("Of course").....(like I wasn't going to try and keep in touch with him?! haha).

His final words as I started walking down the stairs were, "Hasta luego, guapa."
Those words seem to just sum it all up for me.
I rounded the corner down the stairs and looked up at him one last time. He gave me a huge smile and waved. I waved back and continued on.

I had trouble opening the front door to get out, but the last thing I wan't to do was to bother Ernesto after just having said goodbye....I finally got it to open and stepped outside. As I closed the door and started to walk away, I heard a click from the outside phone system thing. He'd been listening to make sure I got out okay.
Have I said lately how much I love this man?

I walked the way he'd told me to walk to find an ATM (I needed money I didn't really have to get back home...I hadn't really planned that far ahead!) and start the ominous task of finding a taxi in this small town at 2 in the morning to get me back to Sevilla. He'd given me numbers of taxi services to call in case I couldn't find any....again, something I just hadn't thought of when I jumped into the cab back in Sevilla! But God really was watching over me that night, because I found my way back to the exit ramp from the highway and within five or ten minutes there came a taxi rolling off the highway. There was already someone in it, but the driver told me he would drop them off and come back to get me. Once he picked me up and we were on our way, I just sat there staring out the window and holding Ernesto's rubber ducky. And I felt like a million-ton brick had been lifted from my soul.
I had the driver drop me off at Avenuda de Constitución since it was cheaper and it would give me a chance to walk and think. But a few minutes into my walk I just bust out laughing and couldn't stop. It was the first time I ever really laughed at myself. But hopping a cab to spring a visit on a professor had also been the craziest thing I had ever done in my entire life. (I had said as much to Ernesto, and he agreed with a smile that it was a "locura". )

But I just felt so......FREE.

When I finally got back to the room Kate was still awake and she asked me what'd happened. And I told her (as nervous as I was that she'd really think I was a freak)....but she just laughed and said, "That's awesome." We talked about it for a bit....I told her how as crazy as it had been, doing it had made me feel freer....and she told me she could see a change in me.

Yes. It had taken up until the very last night of my stay in Sevilla, but what I had always wanted to happen there had finally happened.
I had freed myself.
I had absolutely let go of all of my doubts and fears....what would he say when he found me at his doorstep? would he be freaked out? disgusted? what will i say to him?.....I let it go and just did what my heart was telling me I needed to do. I needed to see him one last time before I left.
And for the first time in my life I just did it. And it felt wonderful.

So unintentionally, Ernesto opened me up in ways I never dreamed possible, as much as I'd always wanted it to happen. He helped me break through my shell, break free from my self-doubt, timidness and fear. It had slowly been happening all semester, but that moment was the final breaking point. My moment of freedom.

And I haven't been the same since.  

Let's see.....after Madrid we had a shopping day. Very nice.  (Although I realized later that I'd somehow miscalculated my accounts and had a lot less than I thought.  At least I caught it, I guess!)

Casey had a run-in with a cute gropper. Yes, you read that correctly.
It all started when Erica's intercambio grabbed one of the cantantes off the street on the evening festivities for the Virgin (Immaculada)....in front of the catedral....let's just say that in attempts to get a picture with another cantante that came along, Casey managed to skip first base and go right to second!!

I AM NOW OFFICIALLY DONE!!!! FINALS AND ALL!!!!
The great part is that I don't think I did too incredibly horrible on my Spanish American Civ final that I just took, even though my studying totally consisted of reading over my notes once for a total of maybe 1 1/2 to 2 hours this morning.  
Now I just have to pack......

And last night was definitely an awesome night.
It was the last "Funky" class with Ernesto.....that really saddens me ....but it was a great class and I already knew most of the moves which made it more fun to dance!
But afterwards was the best part.
After the class ended, I asked him if he had a brief moment after he changed (he always stays to lift weights after Wednesday's class).....so I waited out in the little stairway of the gym. When he came out, I gave him the mixes I had made for him.....and he loved them. ("¡Me muero!") Even just his first expression, when he covered his mouth and was like, "Is that what I think it is?!".....all those hours of making the mixes was definitely worth seeing his face.  After opening it he went through and looked at all the songs (when he got to "If You Were Gay" from Avenue Q he just started laughing...) and told me that we have similar tastes in music. That made me happy, b/c I had NO clue what he liked so I literally went on the whim of what I could picture him dancing or singing along to!
Then I did something that I would never do. But thankfully God gave me the strength this time to do it.
I had written him a letter just thanking him for being him and telling him how thankful I am to have had the opportunity to know him......and I sat there and read it to him.

I sat there opening myself up to someone.

And I'm so glad I did. Before I even read it, he was like, "Hold on, you know I'm sensitive so let me prepare myself," or something like that. Then he held my hand while I read it. Afterwards, he gave me a hug that literally lasted an entire minute.....

(I will continue later.....I meeting with Ernesto....can't get enough of that guy!)

I have one full day left in Sevilla.

ONE.

Will someone please tell me where the last 3 1/2 months of my life went?

Two weekends ago Casey, Erica and I took a small trip to Madrid. We visited three different art museums while we were there....I don't think I can visit another museum for a very long time. I mean a very long time. Although I did get to see Picasso's Guernica and some Van Gogh, Monet and other famous works. But I'm just not the museum-y type.
Although in the course of our time in Madrid we managed to get COMPLETELY stuck in the midst of the crowd of a PP political rally. Literally, I didn't even have room to keep my arms at my side, and I was being moved by the force of people pushing from all directions. There were moments when I was literally almost lifted off the ground because I couldn't breathe and there was no where else to go!! When we finally realized that we would be stuck there for eternity if we didn't try to turn around, we pushed and pulled our way to make a 180....though the arm of some random woman kept me from moving back....Casey had to literally grab my arm and pull me to get me going!
Later that evening on our way to the bus station, I kept feeling a slight tug on my backpack as we were walking. I turned around and noticed that two girls were walking suspiciously close to us, but they were reading a map so I just turned back around. Once more I felt a slight tug on my backpack and turned around to find those two girls walking literally a step behind us. Finally, the third time I experienced divine intervention when God put it into my head to turn around and look down at the pocket of my backpack that held my wallet.....and wouldn't you know it, the zipper was completely unzipped and my wallet was sticking up out of the pocket.

In other words, my wallet was less than a 1/2 second away from being stolen.

Well I whipped my backpack to my side, shoved my wallet back into the pocket and zipped it up right quick. All I could think of to say to the culprits behind me was, "¡Por favor, mujer!"
But it was a very forceful, "¡Por fa-vor, mu-jer!"
She just gave me a half-shocked, half-disgusted look. I think. I was too shell-shocked to really notice!

I will have to continue my final Sevillan adventures later....Casey is waiting for me to walk to Nervión, and I'm heading to my final "funky" class with Ernesto.  I'm really going to miss these classes!

Vive la vida.

Sorry for leaving you hanging. Michelle (the director at the center) came through the study rooms asking for two volunteers to be interviewed by a local tv station, and since no one else wanted to do it (hmm....wonder why?), I finally agreed to do it. Yeah. I definitely predicted the disaster that followed. I actually started out okay, but by the second or third question I just completely blanked and fumbled around like a tonta. I have problems talking to people without having a camara aimed at me and a microphone shoved in my face, and then to add to it the fact that I'm doing it in Spanish?!?! PLEASE! Loli commented on it when I got home that night...she thought I presented myself very well. (They only aired a brief moment, so I have high hopes that they edited out the part where I just flat-out couldn't speak.) And hey - at least now I can say I've had my minute of fame in Spain!

Anyway.....so now I'm really going to continue with London.

From the moment we stepped off of the plane in London, we knew it was November. We could actually see our breath (a rarity in Sevilla right now) and the weather was just so much like it would be at home...it was great!
We didn't arrive at the hostel until past midnight. There were already about three other people sleeping, so I felt bad making so much noise with trying to settle in a bit before bed, but what else could we do?
Thursday we went to the British Museum (I got to see the Rosetta Stone....soooo cool.....and pieces of scuplture from the actual Parthenon in Greece....also very cool) and to a library that housed a mini-museum with one of the first copies of the Gutenburg Bible, Jane Austen's writing desk, an original libretto for Handel's Messiah and even napkins that the Beatles used to write lyrics on among other intriguing things. After lunch, we headed to the National Gallery and saw some Monét, di Vinci, Van Gough and other famous works....and also a portrait of the ugliest woman ever conceivable in all the world (quite histerical actually)....before meeting up with a friend of Erica's from back home that is currently studying in London. All four of us then headed to the FMC (where Elizabeth, Erica's friend, lives and where Erica also stayed when she spent a semester in London) and hung out for a bit. I was able to call my mom and wish her a Happy Thanksgiving which was nice....especially since with my dad and brother in Florida it was just her and the dog for 5 days!....we then headed to St. Paul's cathedral for their eveningsong. I have to say, as much as I loathe religion, I love religious music. There's just something so mysterious and intriguing about it. Afterwards, we went to TGIFridays and indulged in a very unique, but very delicious Thanksgiving dinner
Friday I was really stupid and wore awful shoes that literally chewed up my feet. I'm still healing.  But anyway, we traveled to Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guards. It was nice for the first five minutes, but standing in below-freezing weather (I know because what little batteries I had left in my camara froze so I couldn't take pictures ) just to see a parade of military men when all they're doing is swapping two guards isn't as amusing as you'd think. We left to meet up with Elizabeth for lunch (and learned that a certain Burger King has the coolest toilet seats I've ever seen in my life!) and afterwards Casey and I proceeded to what has to be the absolute highlight of the trip for me:

WE SAW THE FOURTH HARRY POTTER IN THE ODEON THEATRE.....THE THEATRE THAT HAD HELD ITS WORLD PREMIERE THE WEEK BEFORE!!!   

Yeah. That was awesome...and the movie was absolutely incredible. It seriously had everything. I laughed, I cried....I was just thoroughly engaged at all times with what was going on. And that's rough to do with a three-hour movie!
Plus, Casey and I succeeded in doing something crazy that we'd planned since last spring...go see Harry Potter in London!

We went to a local bar that night and I ordered fish and chips (I couldn't leave London without having experienced this famous dish!). Afterwards we headed to our respective shows......which for me turned out to be a disaster.
I was extremely excited to see Tennessee Williams' The Night of the Iguana, but when I got to the theatre that night, there was a sign on the door that announced that the show had been canceled due to the fact that Claire Higgins (one of the lead actresses) was ill.
DAMN.
Since I didn't have time to seek out another play on my must-see list, I hopped next-door to a play that at least sounded interesting - Mary Stuart, a play based off of an 18th century book about the unique relationship between Queen Elizabeth I and Mary Queen of Scots.

Yeah, not so good.

Let's just say that the highlight of the show for me was when it rained onstage.

But at least now I have a valid reason to go back to London - to see a good play.

Saturday morning we crammed in all the remainding "big-sights" (I hate having to rush through things like that, but there was nothing else we could do). We saw Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the Tower Bridge, the London Tower, the London Bridge (actually not at all impressive) and the Globe (which I for some reason had always pictured on the outskirts of the city....) We then grabbed lunch at one of the tube stations before heading back to the hostel to get our stuff. The plane home was fine (although this one group of people tried to bring firecrackers with them on the plane.....and I thought I was lacking in common sense! Damn...), but being in a plane again was a bit weird since it reminded me of going home.

This past week has just been a lot of finishing papers and whatnot. Erica, Casey and I are leaving again for Madrid tonight....it'll be a looong, sleepless busride, but I'm excited to travel again!

¡NO ESTOY LISTA PARA IRME DE ESTE PAÍS!

Vive la vida.

I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.......I AM NOW DONE WITH ALL OF MY PAPERS!!!! ALL 22 SPANISH-IZED PAGES OF THEM!!!!

*BIG SIGH* 

Kate, Erica, Casey and I went to see "La Leyenda del Zoro" (to be pronounced "La Leyenda del Thoro" or no one in Sevilla will understand what you're saying...) and it was a great movie. A)There was a lot of action, hence few long speeches to try and decipher. B)I was able to understand more as the accents weren't as horrible, plus películas dobladas are always easier to understand.
We also got hands-on experience with how immature 16-year-olds can be. As we sat at a McDonalds before our movie, a french fry came flying from out of nowhere and landed right in front of Kate. Then came another, and we realized that there was a table of teenage boys next to us that was trying to get our attention. Great tactics, let me tell ya. They asked us what time it was, we told them, then they asked us what time it was in the Canary Islands. As we didn't know, we told them as much. They responded with a, "One hour earlier!" and started laughing. 'Cuz it was that funny. Finally, one of the guys pulled a chair up to our table and started talking to us (another closely followed...Casey really loved how he smoked right near her face). However, once they realized that we were all in our 20s, they backed off and the boy I talked to was actually rather nice. Kate was histerical, though, with her small "tell-off": "Do you have feet? Can you walk? Get up and talk to us, use words not fries!"

Last weekend Erica, Casey and I went to London. Despite taking a HUMUNGOUS bite out of my account, it was a fantastic trip.

Oh, speaking of my account, a quick side-story:
So it was Wednesday, the day that we were scheduled to leave for London, and I had yet to receive my new debit card. It had been since the end of October that I'd lost it, and by that Wednesday the 23rd of November  I was still waiting! At that point, I'd called my dad to try and figure out some other way of getting money because I couldn't go any longer without it. He told me they'd wire money to me if need-be. But luckily I went to the center's office to tell them that I was still waiting on my card......and the one lady told me "Oh, I think I saw a package with your name on it in reception yesterday. Why don't you go check?" So I did, and lo and behold my card had been sitting in reception since THAT MONDAY. Of all times for them to forget to put a note in my mailbox that I'd gotten a package!
But thank God I had it before heading to London!

Ok, back to the main story.