On thursday didn't anything happen, except for the guy in the shop I was buying animal shaped digestive biscuits at, who asked me how I was and I said Yeah, pretty good and except for the flashing glimpse of the girl waving goodbye in a elevator, which made my day. In the evening I met my uncle and took a walk across Kensington Gardens and the edge of Hyde Park, with icy chocolate smoothie, my teeth shaking. Family sessions continued on friday, when my aunt waited for me in the very end of London, Edgware. A suburb, from my point of view. We cooked a dinner, laughed out loud with her friends, who asked me if I have slept with a boy already and for whatever reason, Matt came to my mind. When they stopped with their cubbish babbling, we decided to watch a creepy movie. I can't remember when I last time watched horror film. And I can't remember when I last time slept till lunch time. Auntie (oh how she hates when I call her like that), Viki and I took the tube to London centre in saturday afternoon. After short boat trip and after having stupid notices about guys walking through streets while eating at KFC, we went from Trafalgar Square to James' Park and Hyde Park again, which was impossible to find with Viki's guiding, but we spent nice time in the expensive street near the park, where we admired shops like Tiffany and others for spoiled people and I laughed at Jimmy Choo high heels. And then at park we fed fluffytails and man with dog started with us a conversation about his problems, he had hardly understandable accent, but still. We got home and on TV was Sex and the City, one of those very old epizodes, oh how I loved this season when I was a kid. I tell you about cold evenings in here. About baggy sweaters and stolen sweethearts.