(The curtains part, revealing our young heroine all snuggled up in her feather comforter on her air-mattress bed in the cozy little room at the top of an English Tudor-style home surrounded by greenery, chirping birds, and drying laundry.)

Alarm:  Beep!  Beep!  Beep!

Erica:  Groan.

Alarm:  Beep!  Beep!  BEEP!

Erica:  Alas!  Last night's sleep was so delicious and the air is currently so crisp that I do not wish to rise and slough my blanket.  However, I must.  Therefore, I shall.  (She rises.)  Let me look out my window onto a picturesque backyard scene and see if I have any more laundry to retrieve from the clothes line.  (She looks.)  Alas!  I do!  And see how the morning breeze whips my jeans about!  (She puts on her make-up, does her hair, pulls on her clothes, trots down two flights of stairs, eats some cereal full of crunchy oat-and-berry goodness, and then rushes out to rescue her pants.)

Pants:  Look!  We are completely dry!  You may fold us and place us in your room.

(She does.)

Corinne:  When you have time, would you mind. . .?

Erica:  (With her usual quickness of perception)  Teaching you a piano lesson?   Certainly!  I am excessively fond of teaching young people to tickle the ivories, plus, my mother promised your mother that I would work with you every day.  'Tis a small price to pay for room and board!

Corinne:  Um. . .all right.

Erica:  Now, make some music for me.

Corinne:  I haven't been working on much.  My mum tries teaching me in the mornings whilst cooking breakfast, and it doesn't really work.

Erica:  I see.  I think I'll teach you the C and G two-hand/two-octave scales and start you on this sonatina and this church hymn.

Corinne:  But I work from the easy hymn book!

Erica:  You're much too quick of a sight-reader for the Hymns Made Easy, so let's learn the real "God Speed the Right."

Corinne:  Okay!

(End of lesson.)

Erica:  (Experiences a wave of sleepiness, but decides to head to London instead of napping.  To Jeanette:)  I'm heading to London instead of napping!

Jeanette:  Don't get lost on your way to the station!

Erica:  I won't!  (She does.  Luckily, all roads eventually lead to the station.)  I've made it to the station!  (She rides to Camden Market.  Quick scene change.)  I've arrived in Camden Market!  What a delightful spot and what a fun, festive atmosphere!  Look at all the colorful shops and enthusiastic salespeople.  The market just goes on and on--winding down streets and up stairs and over canals.  That man is selling sushi.  That woman is selling dresses.  That child is looking at me strangely because I'm talking to myself.

Woman:  Come buy some pizza!  Only a pound a piece!

Erica:  A pound of money or a pound of fat?  Ha, ha.  I am so funny.  Okay--I'll buy your pizza slice because it is lunchtime and I am hungry.  (She is and she does.)  Now what shall I do?  I have a ticket to the BBC Proms Young Composer's Concert, but that doesn't begin for two more hours.  I know!  I'll hop on a double-decker bus and just ride wherever it takes me!  I'll be able to relax and see all the sights in comfort and style.  I like my good friend Renee's philosophy:  "There's no way I can take a wrong bus.  Anywhere I go is EUROPE!"

Bus:  (In all of its red, double-decker glory) SCREECH!  I'm here Erica--ready to take you through all of the wonderful streets and squares you've travelled by foot over the past month.  (It does.)

Erica:  Thank you, bus!  Now it's time for my concert.  Ah--there's Cadogan Hall!  Perfect!

Bus:  Cheers!

Erica:  (Stands in the ticket line behind a little boy who looks about 10.)

Photographer:  (To the little boy:) Are you excited about being a winner in the competition?  Are you pleased with the way your piece turned out?

Boy: (Shyly:)  Yes, sir.

(The audience, including Erica, files in through the doors and seats itself in the chairs.)

Radio Announcer:  Welcome to the BBC Proms/Guardian Newspaper Annual Young Composers Concert!

(This next bit of the script is so long that I'm just going to cut it out and summarize.  Every year during the Proms season--a HUGE deal in the UK--BBC sponsors a young composers competition for children ages 12-18.  After rigorous judging, seven winners are chosen to work with a great composer (John Adams this year!), to have their pieces performed in Cadogan Hall by professionals, and to have the performances air on the BBC radio as part of the PROMS line-up.  What an experience!  When the seven winners filed onstage for the concert, my first thought was, "What?  They're all male?"  Females are so under-represented in the composition world.  Anyway, the pieces were absolutely incredible, and I especially enjoyed a witty little wind quintet and a Copland-ish chamber orchestra piece.  That such talent and craft could be coming from 12 to 18-year-olds really blew my mind.  I think my favorite parts of all, though, were the interview bits.  The hostess actually talked with the boys about their compositional processes and their views on where 21st-century music is headed.  She then interviewed one of the judges who explained how each of the pieces was selected and why it was chosen as a winner.  All in all, it was a fascinating and inspiring experience!)

Erica:  What a fascinating and inspiring experience!  I think I'll hop on another double-decker bus now and ride it until I find a Tesco (I need to buy some easy snacks for Dylan and I since we'll be on the go so much) and a Boots (I need to buy some lotion, and as funny as it sounds, they sell lotion at a store called "Boots").

(She finds a Tesco.)

(She finds a Boots.)

Erica:  (Emerging with two full sacks.)  Mmm. . .I bought some ready-made chicken pasta and a bottle of juice while I was in Boots.  I think I'll hop on this bus beside these two funny businessmen discussing Miss Missouri and eat them for supper (the pasta and juice--not the businessmen).  (She does, and takes her time enjoying them.)  That was a good meal!  I took my time enjoying it.  But oh no!  Now the bus has taken me way out of West London into a residential area and I have no idea where I am!  I'd better hop off at once!

(She hops.)

Rain:  I think I'll start sprinkling now.

(It does.)

Erica:  Oh well.  Even though I need to go to the bathroom and it's raining and I don't know where I am, I am quite contented.  I can ignore the first complaint, I have an umbrella to address the second, and who cares about the third?  I shall head in a direction that I think is Easterly and hope to find a bus soon!

(She walks and walks and walks.)

(And walks.)

Bus:  Here I am, Erica!  And guess what?  I head right to downtown London!

Erica:  Hurrah!  Thank you, bus.

Bus:  Cheers.

(Erica hops onto tube and rides back to Richard and Jeanette's.  She only takes one wrong turn on her way from the station back to their house.)

Richard:  Glad you made it back safely!

Jeanette:  Come watch this Cary Grant/Doris Day movie with us and meet my daughter!  She and her husband made it from the U.S. without any problems.

The Daughter:  (From the beanbag chair:)  Hello!  Nice to meet you!

Erica:  My parents will be so glad to hear that you had no problems on your flights.  Dylan shouldn't have any trouble, either.

The Husband:  When does Dylan arrive?  What have you been doing in London today?

Me:  Yak, yak, yak.  (This signifies a friendly conversation between me and everybody else.)

Everybody:  We're going to bed now!

Bed:  Erica. . .I'm waiting for you!  Just look at my plumpy comforter and fluffy pillow.

Erica:  No, no, bed.  I can't go to sleep until I've posted a daily update to my web page. . .

(Lights out.  Enthusiastic applause.)

P.S.  Oops!  I was just uploading my pictures, and I realized that the bus wasn't quite so accomodating as to drop me off in front of Cadogan Hall.  I actually rode the bus to the end of its line and the bus driver kicked me off.  :-)  From there, I walked to Covent Garden and spent about an hour just watching the street performers (an operatic soprano, the moving statues, etc.). I spent about fifteen minutes gawking at a dancer/entertainer who was absolutely incredible.  He's one of the best hip-hop/break dancers that I've ever seen, but he lost all my respect when he started asking for audience volunteers.  A cute little nine or ten-year-old boy came out of the audience, and when the entertainer told him to smile, he gave the most adorable, toothy grin.  "I didn't say look stupid!" said the entertainer, and the boy's face fell.  The entertainer then started making lewd, sexual jokes in front of the little boy, and I grew so angry that I had to just walk away.  Nothing bothers me more than people who try to corrupt the innocence of children.