London Calling...

What up, bitches! I'm leaving in one week! Woo! Exclamation point!

I haven't started packing yet, about which I am oddly not as stressed as I should be, but other than that I think I'm pretty ready to go. Except I also have no idea what to do as soon as I get off the plane... where do I go? I'm not even sure where in London, exactly, my house is in. I'll figure it out, though.

I really, really, REALLY wanted to come visit y'all before I leave, but that's obvs not going to be a possibility now. I hope that doesn't mean that everyone will totally forget me. Who am I kidding, I'm unforgettable! I'm Fatty! (Let's hope that name doesn't somehow find it's way to England. It stays withing the Five College (and sometimes Barnard, and my house) Bubble! Though, I don't think those refined Brits would ever refer to anyone in such a crass manner.)

So currently I have no real news to report. I'm just trying to get my shit together in my last week, which involves fighting with many medical personnel to get enough of my happy drugs for the whole trip (apparently I can't just show up at a London "chemist" and demand they give me drugs...), and spending time with The Boy. (I chose the most inconvenient time to find a boy. Especially since I had pleasant visions of snagging myself some hot European boy-meat, and now that's all shot to hell. Fucking feelings, getting in the way...).

So the countdown officially begins - eight days.

I hope things are going swimmingly for you buddies, and I miss you like Wilford Brimley misses cookies.

LOVE!