1/27/91
Dear Leslie,
It's 4 a.m. Our bus leaves at 5:45 and the Super Bowl just finished so I'm just waiting. I can't believe I'm actually going to see you later today. My stomach gets funny when I think about it. We've been apart too long.

Kev is sound asleep and lying on his face. We packed up the tons of video equipment tonight and I'm not at all looking forward to lugging it around for the next 14 hours. Not to mention that we're going to be screwed when we get to customs. The airlines have requested that passengers carry no electronic devices with them. Well shit. As if it's my fault everyone started to freak out about terrorists and bomb while we were here.

Kev rolled over and looks much more comfortable.

I went back to St. Paul's cathedral this morning for services - by myself this time. (You should be proud). After, I walked around all over the city that has been my home for three weeks. It's weird how I fell right into a routine while I was here, how I acclimated even though my time here was so brief. I've been riding the Tubes like I've been here for years. And the waiters at Dyonesius are glad to see me and start pouring beer when I walk in. It must have been wild for you in Spain for an entire semester. I can't imagine being here until May.

I will miss a lot of what I've gotten used to, I think. I'll miss pigeons and accents and pot pies and the cider. I'll also really miss the freedom of a one hour class and theater at night and all the free time in between. But every time I think about coming back, I think about how I'll be showing all of this to you - and how we'll see it again together.