It is a treasured thing, those little markings in the travelling student’s passport. When entering or leaving a country, there’s a certain satisfaction in the thump of rubber hitting those tiny booklets. It says, yes, I have been to (insert country here). And if the pictures and tacky memorabilia aren’t enough to convince you that I am indeed a ( Read more... )

I'm a vain whore, I guess.

Derek's coming to visit me ( Read more... )

I've had the strangest assortment of dreams lately, ranging from fucking depressing as all fuck and, well, weird ( Read more... )

the streets was AMAZING ( Read more... )

In Machester.
I LOVE flying...
that subject and more,
later.

p.s. Internet access=one computer. yikes.

This guy came over the apartment, Aaron? Eric? Hard to tell, as his accent is HARDCORE Irish. I mean, there's Irish, and then there's What the hell did you just say Irish. Anyway, we were chatting ( Read more... )

Tomorrow at 10 I'm going to help Eoin--yes, cute tour guide from when I first got here Eoin--with Rag Week stuff.
Please don't let this be stupid.

1. Give me your number ( Read more... )

I've been scouring the internet for maps of Manchester, things to do in Manchester, flights to Salzburg, flights to Salzburg from London, flights to London, AHHH! I've been here a mind-numbing (literally, I can't feel my neurotransmitters anymore)four hours. I want to go home, but some sick desire to plan out every moment of the next four months ( Read more... )