Really alarming how little time is left on this whole “study” abroad venture. I must say it is un petit peu frazzling when some act, as the end approaches, as if they will never return to Europe. Should this be the case, there are more serious and clearly sinister grievances in need of rapid rectification.
I have, quite unfortunately, witnessed numerous alarming attempts to rapidly imbibe any and all traces of so-called “culture”. As one who is, by fortune (misfortune that is), also known as birth, oh and also by genealogy, Eurotrash, I must say it will take a lot longer than a semester in the land of lack to perfect that smirk, my friends. Not to worry, you’ll be back soon. Perhaps.
SO updates? Ugh I don’t know I can’t really keep up with myself these days. I have enjoyed Bronzing on an uninhabited island in the middle of the Mediterranean. Chic. And uninhabited in this context means literally the only residents are gypsies on Razor scooters—which, considering the treacherous terrain of the island itself, proves a disconcerting choice. But to each gypsy his own, I suppose.
Regardless, I find that time has really flown. Summer plans are finally finally finalized, and I am quite pleased. Places such as Budapest, Prague, and the inevitable and unpronounceable Vouliagmenni (aka Athens) before returning to the states by early June, and a six week stay in the City of the Purple Sprite. I can honestly say that I will go retail and food crazy. I have said it before but I will not hesitate to say it again. White queso. Fajitas with jalapenos that give your tongue welts. 98 degree heat. 101 degree heat. Sweating namesakes brimmed with salt. Pretending to be on a Mexican holiday but then remembering it’s just the backyard. Manicures that bear an uncanny resemblance to the Youtube phenomenon. Dizzying retail therapy. The likes of Alice and Olivia summer frocks, shifts, and backless numbers inducing extremely labored breathing. Consuming. Consuming. Consuming.
Green. Money, that is. Pretending like Firefly is non-alcoholic and drinking it straight. Poolside. Wearing shorts and not being labeled a street walker. Sweet.
Anyhow sorry for the Screwston love poetry but I am now going back to the greater 02144/02155 at the beginning of July. Whatup real big JZ it's summerville time. Those flat-brimmed Red Sox hats and mellifluous accents are really trans-Atlantic-ally beckoning to me what can I say I’m the kind of girl who enjoys a good dose of class. More importantly, all of this affords me ample time to prepare for the most significant week of my youth, nay, existence. I don’t really want to go into torturous detail right now because I do eventually have to go to sleep and the mere mention of this casual attainment of legality sends me into an absolute psychotic, spastic frenzy. Let’s just leave it at that. For a hot second.
What’s left. Hmm. I have a presentation for my civ class on Tuesday, awkward how I get back from Cyprus right before. Excuse me while I reek of airplane and wear my chic travel ensemble to school. Most awkward part, I actually have to do the presentation. But I’m on spring break. Uncomfortable and less than ideal, I’d say.
For all those in the Land of plenty I miss you very much. Especially Aslan. It won’t be long now till we can wreak havoc on wretched souls ensemble.
SO, 3 weeks left in Aix? The cash Euros is flowin like water and I’d say it’s just about time for the likes of stacks on deck, Patron (Personally don’t consume tequila, so this should be replaced by Goose clearly) on ice, and whatever else the fuck I want. Like Nutella.
Love sometimes,
M
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