American psycho

The next time I have to share a room with an ex-marine who appears to be asleep I will actually check that he's asleep, and not faking, before I go ahead and change into my PJs, flashing my knickers in the process.

He did redeem himself by taking me to the airport, although even this was fraught with difficulty when we discovered that we didn't have enough money for the toll and he suggested that I flash my boobs at the toll booth officer and he drive through the barrier while the officer oogled my chest.

Farewell Florida and the nutters that live within. And thanks very much for letting me crash on your floor/foldout sofa, make a mess of your house and for putting up with the fact I quite often don't make any sense. Much appreciated.

And now, London. It is cold.

Managed to negotiate my way on the tube to meet Katie in the city. Then ran into Lauren. Was just like being at home. Got to Katie's house and with a great deal of excitement, opened the box of clothes that ma and pa had sent over. I fell on them with gusto. Having worn almost the same thing every day for the past two months, I was thrilled with the idea of not wearing cargo pants ever again. I pulled out my jeans and put them on. They didn't fit. I couldn't even do them up.

I don't want to talk about it.

Bollocks, of course I do. I'm going to whine. I blame America. And maybe South America. It's not my fault, at any rate.

I eventually managed to do them up, but it took a run in the park and another 24 hours before I could finally do the zip up. In a huff, I stormed off to see Ruthie and her mum, who are en route to Israel.

We were shameless tourists. The London Eye. A river tour. Walking around the Tower of London. Great fun. And then back to where they were staying and Ruthie and I stayed up watching DVDs and giggling until 4am. Was a bit like when we were eight except now we don't get told off for still being up at that hour.

But, to celebrate actually getting into my jeans (and ignoring the overflow that Katie has kindly described as 'curves'), we're eating truffles and chocolate cake. I am my own worst enemy.

Tomorrow has been set aside for the purpose of shoe shopping, finding a costume for the two parties my popular self has been invited to this weekend, and trying to find a job. But the latter only if I have time.