Downward to the depths of London

Deborah and I had a great time while she was here. We saw Equus (and now I can never think of the Harry Potter films in quite the same way), rode the London Eye, took a day trip to Bath, and went to an excessive number of museums. We spent so much time travelling on the tube that I definitely feel like a London subway pro. Some of the tube stations in London are quite old, dating back a century, and for some reason I found this incredibly fascinating (I still do actually; I'm totally going to the London Transport Museum the next time I go to London). I would get very excited when we found an old one. My absolute favorite was the Russell Square station, seen here.
At Russell Square, the trains apparently go and come far far under the ground. There is a sign at the top of the stairs directing passengers to the trains and under that is a small note informing you that these trains do their going and coming exactly 175 stairs underneath you. Since the queue at the lift was pretty long, Deborah and I decide to brave the stairs. These stairs are like a long spiral staircase to the depths of hell with periodic, but very picturesque tile signs, informing you that you are in fact approaching the train platform.
After what seemed to me that we had been walking since time began, we met a woman coming up the stairs. She was very out of breath, and she pitifully asks us if it's too terribly much farther to the top. We gave her some encouraging words and Deborah congratulated her on her fortitude for braving the stairs on the way up (and in high heels no less). But really, that staircase went on and on in a never ending downward spiral. I felt like I was in some sort of really bad Beckett play a la Waiting for Godot. But at last we (finally!) made it too the bottom and hopped a train back to the hotel.
The next evening we were at the Covent Garden stop, yet another really cool old station with yet another spiral staircase which the sign helpfully informed us was 193 steps long. Needless to say, we took the lift.
A week full of fun-ness in London and a staircase in a London tube station is my favorite anecdote.

The Universe really really hates me now.

I haven't posted anything lately because I haven't done anything terribly interesting. I've been pretty sick the last two weeks. I've been stuck in my room for days, so the most exciting thing I've done is read Lady Audley's Secret and swoon over Paul Bettany in Wimbledon.
Unfortunately I had a relapse of some sort today, so I'm starting to get sick all over again. I've made numerous pitiful phone calls to my mother, who is a saint to listen to me whine and complain about how much my throat hurts. I'm trying to look on the bright side though. Being stuck in my room so much means that when I'm awake I can get lots of reading done. I figure I can get quite a bit of my reading done well before my classes next week. And my mom is always there to listen to my pitiful complaints. It's always nice to have a sympathetic ear, especially when I'm so far away from home.