Give me Friday night apartments with red-faced tears of laughter, jumping up and down, drinking happily ever after.

"He winged away on a wildgoup's chase across the kathartic ocean and made synthetic ink and sensitive paper for his own end out of his wit's waste. " - James Joyce Finnegan's Wake

So I've got one final out of the way, four more to go. Phew. The I can start working on those directions...

Dear Kathy, If you follow through on your feelings that you're reponsible for me, as you put it, in Ireland, I swear that I will call you "mom" in public at every chance I get. Got it?

hahaha. So we're leaving Sunday. This is all happening waaaay faster than I anticipated. All of a sudden my first year of college is over and I'm headed to Ireland. Yikes! I can't wait.

Also, I took my last BritLit test today and am a little sad about that.

Hey and I look like a crackhead in my passport picture. Of course I do. That's the story of my life. Not the crack part, but the horrible pictures. You should see my licenses! I use the plural form there because I have four of them. How, you may ask? Well, I "lose" them for two weeks at a time, buy a new one, and find the old one the next day. Non-refundable, of course. Once again, the story of my life. This is also the reason I have no less than five sticks of deoderant in the ten by ten foot cell they call dorm rooms here. haha. Don't mistake tired for bitter; it's finals week for me.