Waiting for my friends who have extra spending money to come home from bars and school formals.
In the meantime, feel free to read my last column EVER for The Hilltop Monitor, my college’s newspaper. Here’s an excerpt:
“’I mean, I’m not that sentimental…’” I said a couple of weeks ago at Harry’s in Westport. A certain editor-in-chief (we’ll call her Shtara Shmoreland) and I were celebrating Colloquium Day and Night of Honors with a few drinks in Kansas City, and I was trying to gauge whether the tall and handsome young man who had stolen my water was legitimately from England as he asked about my thoughts on college graduation.
I wasn’t convinced that his accent was legitimate, but nonetheless my mind, slightly unhinged with the help of tequila and gin, couldn’t help but return to Cambridge, England, where I spent my junior year abroad. I remembered my three best girlfriends and our over-the-top planning for themed College bops (my choice to spend money on a neon pink wig for our “rave” was solid), the aptly-named Suicide Sunday spent drinking Strongbow in Jesus Green in May sunshine at 2 p.m., and the multiple day trips I took to London, pleased to be alone and lost and falling in love with such a winding hodgepodge of a city. “
To read the rest, click here.
Cambridge, UK (by frscspd)
Remember when this was a part of my daily commute to get to lectures and supervisions in the English faculty?
shipofthefens: Newnham College, Cambridge (x)
enchantedengland: How perfect is this?
Not as perfect as home sweet Homerton College. But it’s still Cambridge, so still pretty special. Wish I could rewind back to a year ago, for several reasons.
Cambridge, England, UK.
Home home home. I know this little street exactly. Though the McDonald’s sign was always a reminder of the real world.
a few lines i must have written whilst drinking in Cambridge last spring. they’re simple, and they don’t mean anything, but i kind of like them:
some people just have romance running through their veins.
chivalry ain’t dead when the sun is low and you’ve had London Pride in your left hand since noon.