an arrival

So, I got here. The Incredible Fornicatores never stopped having sex, I didn't get to the exam before it started, I was delayed four hours out of Heathrow. But, I'm here. It's warm. Not hot, but actually comfortable outside; the fog is thick, and the airport is mostly closed, which is slowing the influx of relatives.

Well. I got my mehndi done. My hands are covered with beautiful red flowers. Tomorrow night I ought to have a birthday party, or at least go out somewhere and drink to celebrate not being old enough to drink.

But I got here! That's something, I suppose.