i collect memories like lindsey lohan collects dui's

and so here it is at last, the last vestiges of summer.

here i sit on the burgandy sofa with a down comforter wrapped around my feet (despite the fact that it's nearly 90 and there's more humidity than a miami nightclub - i blame bad circulation) with thunder rumbling about and ominous storm clouds left and right. and i sit and think about this summer in retrospect: the good, the bad, the ugly, the heinous and bizarre, the serendipitous and unscrupulous.

CHAPTER THE FIRST: EURO-INVASION

i went to europe.
i lived in london.
ireland was pretty sweet.
so was prague.
i drank some guiness, mingled with the locals, did a laughable 3-pub pub crawl, saw the queen, prince william, and all the royals.
i saw the foundations of civilizations - from the rosetta stone to egyptian ruins to shit in a can at the tate modern.
i must've been to every underground station at least once.
i snogged.
brighton was a bit tacky, but fun.
i learned the definition of the word "bitty."
i made some big moves.
i sang karaoke, went on a dj date, and sipped a cosmopolitan.
i lived a londoners life.

and i loved it.

CHAPTER THE SECOND: INDENTURED SERVITUDE

i got home from said euro-invasion with a sizable dent (note: black hole) in my bank account. to atone for said discrepancy in budget, i returned to the bane of my existance,
the
fairlawn
country
club.

i will not pollute my blog with the mundane, boring, and otherwise inconsequential.


CHAPTER THE THIRD

senior year ...... (?) at miami.

this is to be continued.


this is the worst novel ever.