Summer At Oxford University

Oh my God, what an amazing experience. I can't even begin to describe it. These past weeks have been. . . wow. I kept a handwritten journal while I was there, because it seemed more real, somehow. I'll transcribe it later. So for now, I'll summarize my summer across the Pond:

The UK is fun and unabashedly gorgeous; while there I made the most incredible friends, saw some mind-blowing theatre shows, touched things that were over 2,000 years old, met and caught up with Tyler, avoided getting blown up, came within a inch of being an extra in the new Harry Potter movie, fell in the Thames after six bottles of champagne, got front row seats to a real football game, joined the Jungle Room, sat in Tolkien's seat at The Eagle and Child, fell in love with Pims, 99 pence McFrostys, and 2 AM runs to the Kebob Man, learned how to punt properly, OWNED the dance floor at Escape, was told by my tutor I should be getting published, stood inside the room Shakespeare was born in, made out with half my class (including a 40 year old gorgeous gay man named after the god of thunder), scaled a bunch of stone towers by rope, taught some Japanese teachers how to Scottish dance, stood inside a torture chamber, gained victory for the Sistahs in the pub quiz finals, ran across the quad grass (the horror!), and unlike poor Phil, managed NOT to be haunted by the Exeter College ghost. The Ass Clowns forever!

I wanna go back. Right now.