I went to NYC on Monday night to hang out with Lopez and go to my visa appointment at the British Consulate on Tuesday morning. We had a decent jam in little Korea at a Korean BBQ (slightly less sweet and more expensive than the place we went to last July 4th, alas). After dinner Lopez got a txt from Terpsma asking if we wanted to hang out at the Gaf.
When we arrived at the pub, we discovered that Lopez is a doofus and the txt was actually from Kim Tarr (aka hotfoot's sister). We decided to hang out anyway, since Terp and Kim are roughly a wash. After a few pints and a lengthy and philosophical discussion with Lopez, I crashed on his couch until the next AM.
The actual visa appointment was way less difficult than I expected. As usual, I had prepared anal-retentively for any kind of official business, and so I was processed in about 5 minutes. I always forget that I'm always the easiest kind of case for these bureaucrats (have my documentation, arrive on time, speak english); especially compared to the guy with the crumpled piece of paper on which is scrawled, "Good morning. I do not speak English. May I have a translator?"
The bus ride back was uneventful (I got to watch The Terminal which totally sucked). And now I have sorted out all the details of my departure, so there's nothing left to do but wait...