So I read to myself: a chance of a lifetime to see new horizons

Gaddafi's dead and I'm worried about gaining a few pounds, not having enough money to vanish for three months and not having proper shoes for the winter. A plethora of first-world problems.

I've sent all my university applications and I should be receiving answers any week now. I could talk about this for a lifetime, reviewing all the chances I'm taking and how happy I feel, but I'm shortening it to this: I'm scared to death, but my leopard print-loving grandmother is so convinced I'll get in and meet a handsome english earl, she's started to learn English. In her mind, there's no reason a blonde girl should not marry an english aristocrat.

Next weekend is going to be time to hop on a bus, drive 166 km on the E18 and spend the weekend in a strange city with lovely people. I'm relieved. In order to not get fed up, everyone should change scenery once in a while, even if it's only for two and a half days.

P.S. This is the new me, through a grainy picture; shorter bleached hair and a top to match - I need to start prepping up for my english aristocrat and he should definitely be one who owns a yacht club.