Yeah.

I've only got two months left of university, which can't be right because I only just got here. I fell off a plane about a week ago, but according to the rest of the world, it's been almost seven months. Seven! That's most of a baby! But then I realise how used I am to everything around here (mountains, fascists), and that feelings of Being At Home have snuck up on me. So now, I'm going to have reverse culture shock, and become what my sister knowledgeably refers to as a person with UK ennui (P.U.K.E.) who hangs restlessly around, knowing that there's a big world beyond where I am and that I can only see one part of it at a time. Oh, and one day I'm going to die.

But, I made the Dean's List. However, until I was informed otherwise, I thought that this was a bad thing; you know, the DEAN'S LIST!! complete with Saul Bass strings, and entertained visions of shrieking academic hellhounds in mortar-boards ripping me to shreds in a theologically sounds manner. But, right. Apparently I get a certificate instead, which is less dangerous, if somewhat less exciting.

Right. Now that I've triumphantly returned, I can go and eat lots of food and vegetate. Hooray.