I am surfing the web to surf some foreign couch via the freeloader’s delight website known as www.couchsurfing.com. A pretty cool gig actually, and the people that my roommie Bridget has had usurping her couch space have always been groovy to the max. Here’s the real problem, and it’s a mathmatical one so get your thinking caps on (you can also feel free to use a graphing calculator for those who are trying to get their money’s worth from Geometry class).  Here goes: I leave the first of October. It is now the twenty fifth of September.  I don’t at present have any confirmations for sleepovers in foreign cities. Therefore, I am .  . . ???

Yes, it’s a word problem but I will use the numerical equivalents if that will help.

1 Oct – 25 Sept = 5 days

5 days + 0 leads for accomodation = :(

I’ve sent out two emails.

I know it’s easy to get discouraged when nothing seems to be happening, and even moreso when you really haven’t put forth enough effort to deserve things going your way. I am a procrastinator, I won’t lie. But, in my (weak) defense, I will say that part of the reason that it’s taken me so long to get on the ball is that I’m pretty sure the people that I would want to stay with (i.e. quadroplegic investment bankers with locks on the door who have no reason to or ability to follow through with stabbing me in the middle of the night) are totally not the people that Kristen wants to stay with (as in, hip young cool kids that like to listen to live music and raise a few).  What to do, what to do . . .

At this point, the answer has become: get in wherever you can. Wish me luck. And perhaps if I’m fortunate on a more grand scale, all this impassioned desperation will make me more prolific in the future. (Sorry for being somewhat AWOL of late . . . )

As a disclaimer, I would like to say this, vicariously, through a little Voki lady.

Get a Voki now!

Moving along, here’s the scoop. So I’ve dropped my Comparative Government class, and before you say anything, check yo’self ‘cuz I went over it with Arend and he already said it was okay. So THERE. :::sticks tongue out like a three year old::::

It isn’t as if I don’t want to learn this stuff. I do! That’s why I dropped it. I got my book late, I have a three week class term, and I am nowhere near prepared to take my midterm on Thursday. The real trouble is that I found out that taking the same class in the autumn quarter, which I was so totally prepared to do, is impossible. Apparently it’s “full” or some such nonsense. I suppose I’ll just have to cross my fingers that it’s offered in winter quarter and pounce on it as soon as it perks its unsuspecting little head up over the long grasses on the Savanna.

Sigh. I wanna go to Africa.

And that’s where all this is going. I thought I was doing all this schooling because 1) I think my mother would have liked it and I’m able to afford it because of her, and 2) because afterwards I wanted to go to Bible school and then whisk myself off on an African evangelism adventure! But now I can’t afford to go to Bible school afterwards, and I wonder suddenly, What am I aiming for?

This is the constant confusion of People My Age. I’m not too worried about it. Not too worried about the wondering, that is. It’s typical, it’s appropriate. But getting to the answer, ahhh, yes, that is something.

Well it’s finally final: I bought plane tickets yesterday to fly to London on the first of October. Eeee!

So now it’s time for, you guessed it:

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Pardon me for being so verbose today, but I’m waiting around, and what am I’m to do while waiting but to blither on and on to a faceless void known as the Intermanet?

So today is St. Patrick’s Day.  All day long on the radio and TV have been historical documentaries of the Irish plight past and present and interviews with Irish or Irish-American women and men who’ve overcome adversity, made a success of themselves, or just have an opinion they’d like to share in the thier giddy sing-song brogue. And, of course, there is the territory of the Sitcom Special.

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