So on Good Friday, I was back at the homestead, and Sis was there, and we got a bunch of stuff hammered out for the Boat. Everything is now booked. The bus to Southampton was the last thing -- we're doing the side trip to Stonehenge. (Yes, that Stonehenge.) "Building a henge, are we?" Heh.
Anyway, we also went through a bit of stuff about what we want to do in London itself. The debate came down to whether or not we do a museum or not, and if so, which one? Mom was pretty set on doing the Alexander McQueen retro at the V&A, and while I'm up for that, there's also a show of my man John Singer Sargent at the National Portrait Gallery. Both are time-ticketed. I doubt that we can do both. I think Sargent won -- Mom usually yields when other people are leading her around. (Sargent will be in NYC, but not when we're usually there.)
Because seriously? Seriously. SERIOUSLY.
I do lubs me some John Singer Sargent. One of my all-time favs. Frans Hals set in the Gilded Age of Edward Gorey. What's not to love?
Anyway, we also need to plan out a bit of shopping. Sis, as the former London resident, is ALL OVER THAT SHIT, to the point of picking out specific restaurants for us to eat at (and such making the trip no fun at all).
I need to go to a couple of places, Mom needs to go to a couple of places.
I forgot myself for a moment, though. Sis had mentioned in one of her many, many pleas for me to go to London (which I ignored in favour of Paris, because me and Paris get along waaaaaaaaaay better than me and London -- I just wasn't enthralled by the place, frankly, and YMMV, but for me, Paris is IT), that I needed to go to the Agent Provocateur store. The big AP store has models strutting around in the silken underthings. This is an attraction. It is a show.
So I asked that that be put on the list.
I forgot one key thing, though -- I'll be with my mother.
I might as well not bother, now. I can't very well go to a lingerie store to check out the models when my mother is standing right beside me. No, no no no no no.
This is a real problem travelling with Mom in tow. I can't check anyone out. If there is a possibility of a flirtation, I can't work it. This has happened many, many times. (Not that I would hit on the AP girls, but even just looking -- which is what they're there for -- would be a nicht nicht.)
I was wondering about that on the Boat as well. What if I meet someone on the Boat? How could I ditch my Mom for any period of time to work anything out? I can't. It's that simple.
But I get John Singer Sargent, so there's that.