Got called in for boyfriend duty tonight–Meg’s best friend got dumped, so she has to drive to Richmond and comforther, so I have to suddenly run the sound for a convocation. Good thing I’d done it before, but anyway, the convo wasabout abroad programs and I suddenly want to go to England more than I’ve ever wanted anything ever.
There’s very possibly an open spot in the London program next spring–one guy wants to go, but they already have aneven number and he’d have to find a roommate. Here’s the thing(s): It costs eight hundred bucks. It’s expensive to livein London once you get there. I have to take two classes for my major in the spring that they won’t offer nextyear. And if anybody does get that spot, it’ll probly be my roommate.
So it’s impractical to extremes. But.
I want to see what’s at 221B Baker Street. I want to be cold and walk around in the fog. I want to eat bad food and seeif Fenchurch’s house is really in Islington. I want to hate the phone system. I want to get an accent. I want to sayI’ve lived in London. I want it so bad I can taste it. I didn’t even realize it, but I really am anAnglophile.
Also there’s a couple people who are going I’d really like to be around, but for once that’s not as important.
Maybe we’ll beat the shit out of the one guy and both go. Hell yeah. Brendan and Jon loose in London! Keep everybodyoff the streets!
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