It's raining. Not like a nice pitter-patter of softly falling rain, but a downright torrential someone get Chicken Little cause the sky is falling downpour that's actually managed to stop the natives in their tracks.
When I got up to shut my windows, I noticed a row of people taking shelter under the overhang of the building across the street. You know it's gnarly rain when people with umbrellas are also taking shelter from the rain since it straight bitch-slapped them up against a wall. That's a London summer day for you.
People at J's office told him that they had been having an unusually nice summer - yeah, right up until we arrived apparently. And the LA Times is warning of a heatwave this weekend when it was still June gloom while we were there. Result: no summer for me this year. Typical. But I'm starting to develop that proverbial British stiff upper lip - about weather anyway; J and I are going to attempt some Korean food this weekend, and I'll cry if they try to charge me for banchan. Why didn't I learn how to make Korean food when I was at home? Oh right, cause I'm a damn soon-to-be-weak-in-the-knees-for kimchi FOOL!
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