What to do when your seat mate gets sick...

Dear Everyone Who Wants to Read this:
After little deliberation, I decided that a blog would be a better way to keep more people updated about my life this summer. So without further ado, and without much ado at all to start with, here is my first entry.
I started my trip to London today, or rather, yesterday at noon Mountain Standard Time. I arrived in London today at roughly 3 PM GMT, which I believe is the abreviation for whatever time zone London is in. While the flight from Vegas to Houston was rather uneventful (I did sit by a charming hick guy from New Orleans who was wearing an orange shirt, a hunting baseball cap, and reading hunting magazines and his wife behind him was always like, "Baybah, is thayt a train-yard?" as she looked out the window), the flight from Houston to London was a bit more exciting. First off, I got on the plane, found my seat, and realized that I didn't have a seat mate! Hooray! Every traveler's dream!!! Unfortunately the plane was delayed an hour due to technical difficulties, but no matter, I had two seats to myself!!!! Oh wait.
So some hornery old man had taken some seat other than his own in the row next to me. The flight attendant told him any other seat than that because someone was probably coming that would sit there, but he just sat there anyway. Well, the other guy did come, like a 30-year-old Indian guy from Sacramento. He just came and sat by me because my seat was open and I looked friendly I guess. How lucky.
So he really wasn't that bad. He was pretty interesting to talk to. He was opening up a restaurant in Sacramento but he was flying to London for his cousin's wedding, etc. However, I found out that he had been drinking at the bar because he had a long layover and I was like, "Charming. A drunken fool." But that wasn't even the bad part. He threw up!!!!!!!!!!!! Wait, was that enough exclamation points to convey my disgust, shock, disbelief? I don't think so. !!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah, he threw up and ran away to the bathroom and the flight attendants didn't even do anything about it. They threw a blanket over the vomit and that was it. Finally I was like, "Um, can I switch seats?" (Even though it was my seat and extra seat to begin with!) So I switched to an aisle seat and ended up sitting next to this really nice guy from London, Joe, who was very sympathetic about the man who "was sick" up front. Joe told me all about the things I need to see in London and we chatted for a lot of the flight and slept for a lot more (slept is a rough term, mind you).
When we arrived in London and had to go through Immigration with this nasty guy who kept asking about the program and when I would say "We are staying here" or "we are studying" he would say, "I thought you were traveling alone!" Blah!
So through some miraculous circumstances, I met up with two of the program girls at the airport and we took a taxi to the London Centre and now here we are. We took a walk around Kensington Gardens/Palace to fight the jetlag and now it is about 3 in the afternoon in Utah and 10? ish here. So I think I did pretty good for the night. Anyway, love you! More good stories to come, I'm sure. :)