Last Twitter:

• Timing my walk from the subway to the apartment perfectly to be caught in a torrential summer thunderstorm.
  
• Catching a car to airport driven by a psychotic illiterate man who insisted on driving in a reckless and nausea-inducing matter, all while spitting out the window every two miles or so. Lesson to self: Never, never, never just hop in some car service car. The wanker even had the nerve to bump up his price because we ran into traffic. I can't wait until he discovers I peed on his seat in abject terror. That'll show him.
  
• British Airways food. 'nuff said.
  
• The terminal bus at Heathrow has seats designed for dwarfs. I almost cripped myself when I sat down carelessly assuming that my legs should fit in behind the seat in front of me. How wrong I was.
  
• What the New York-London leg of our flight was lacking in the screaming and/or obnoxious nearby children factor our London-Munich leg made up for in spades. Even though it was a short hop, we were delayed on the ground for sometime, which allowed us to take in the delight of watching the toddler stomp loudly up and down the aisle, face plastered with drool and food debris and mouthing various armrests, leaving a conspicious trail of slime in his wake. Who needs to be airborne to get airsick? Obviously there was the prerequisite screaming and seat kicking which we had a prime vantage point to enjoy, since they were sitting right behind us.