Meow

To think a year ago I was dressed up as an Iron Age Maiden pretending to know everything about roundhouses and primitive preRoman British life at Butser Ancient Farm out in Hampshire. I remember how a majority of the time I ended up talking about many obscure Canadian facts that even I am not sure if they are entirely true or not. But this accent is convincing.

Tomorrow I travel up to London with my landlady where we will meet my boyfriend (I seriously have no friends in this country) for the Wicked Young Writers Award ceremony at the Apollo Victoria Theatre. I might not even get a Travelcard if my train goes right to Victoria station. I think the theatre is across the street - the home of the infamous musical "Wicked." It does not feel real that I am a finalist. I think mainly I feel a bit out of it. Like I don't know how this happened to me. Is it real? How did this happen?

I've had two great-aunts die this past week. One from each grandmother's side. It's a shame I never got to meet one of them who lived in Rome.

This weekend I will be invading IKEA in London. I am so ridiculously excited to get a set of bed sheets. And possibly a pillow. And maybe a duvet.

I go back to Canada in October for a visit. In my mind I'm already retrieving mass amounts of clothing, bed sheets, hair straightener from the boxes in my parents basement. I miss all my clothes!!!! I haven't seen them in over a year now. Will they still be stylish? Has my sister pawned them off already like she tried to do when I went backpacking across Europe six years ago? Is my mother or worse, Scooby her cat, wearing my dresses? I bet there's cat hair on everything. Maybe I will get to use that sticky rolly thingy I bought at H&M almost a year ago that is still unused because I have no hairy animals for once in my life and the house snake doesn't shed his skins all over my nicest clothing. He's been missing for a week now. He is suspected to be cruising around the attic, looking for mice or dust bunnies.

Only time until I find out!