I feel like doodoo. I woke up at 9amish (I woke up amish?) thinking I'd be productive! I invited Mike over for breakfast which involved mildly burned french toast (still tasted good). After that he lured me to his abode for some Azumanga Daioh action (my latest diversion). He fell alseep and I thought that seemed like a good idea so I walked back to my room in what already seemed like a dream (sunshine, someone saying “hey mike” all the sugar on the stairs, that stranger coming out of the building…). While napping I dreamt I had some part in a play. It was nearly time to go onstage and I realized I hadn't memorized my lines, let alone looked at the script. This dream happens a lot. It's always at the same rundown version of BHS and usually the other people in the dream are more or less unfamiliar. I think the play was Taming of the Shrew and it was a manifestation of my dreaming mind saying I needed to get my shit together. It's another Sunday with a whole new batch of undone homework, in addition to my Foreign Studies essay shit that I've been putting off. There's also that open ended studio art class I have on Monday that I am once again unprepared for. I also have two websites to make for work.

Because of this I am naturally making a livejournal entry and pondering sleep again. It's occured to be that since it is now 3:30 and the last time I ate was 10ish, I can put more food in my face. Lunch! Heh… healthy living.

It's amazing how the little things get so big. I'm rambling about not doing homework when I was in London yesterday. and the day before. and the evening before that. by myself and with no map.

While there I decided I really wanted to listen to the Postal Service. That is what I am doing right now. I might write more about London later, or just post pictures. I leave you with a few thoughts: I'm not home sick and probably won't be. I have however started to miss certain people. Really random ones. I drew a lot of connections between going to London and going to Minneapolis last year. It was sad to be walking through the Tate Modern art gallery by myself. No devious makeout sessions on benches to speak of. While eating an overpriced pizza, sitting on a fence staring at Big Ben, I thought about a John. Hyde Park made me sentimental for large bodies of water.

“you looking for the ladies? you like the black girls, white girls? live show!”

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