Nearly nearly spring.

There are too many things to write about, really. This'll just be a run-on narrative, a current events report.

Today has been a really long day that followed a really long yesterday that followed a really long weekend. Maybe not long-long, just crammed-long. Last week I ran back and forth between Slips and the library from open til close to get my schoolwork done, and I still haven't slept enough to make up for it. Working on it.

Right now I'm calming down my heartbeat by baking for a bake sale that's going on tomorrow to promote The Scribe magazine, and baking for my housemates, and just baking in general. Mom sent me some pre-boxed brownie mixes, so those are being used for The Scribe magazine sale, and home-made sugar cookies are for my boys.

This weekend Leander went on a vacation for her birthday. Her mom told her that her birthday present was a mystery vacation, and all she had to do was show up at the airport and only when they were standing in line to pick up their tickets would she find out where she was going. I found out today, when she got back, that she ended up in Barcelona. I think that's incredibly nice -- the mystery and intrigue about which sunny spot, of all the sunny spots in Europe, to get to visit. The curiosity adds to the sunshine bit of it.

So I was Leander-less this weekend, a little sad, but I still got to hang out with all my other girls. On Saturday, Liz and Katie and I walked around town and ended up in the museum cafe off Millennium Square with coffee and Victoria Sponge cake for the entire afternoon. I sat in the sun-spot and soaked it up, then went out with Katie and Lucy Saturday night. On Sunday I worked at Slips all morning, with all the windows open because the air was so nice, and on my way home in the afternoon, found a warm spot in the park to lay in for a few hours. The wind picked up before too long, though, and I had to go home because I was too cold. The spring here is half warm, half not. The clouds and wind push the sun out of the sky every now and again, so the days are spotty, but it makes every little bit of sun worth appreciating. The flowers have popped up and the birds are pretty noisy. Nearly springtime, but not quite warm enough for it.

Sunday marked my sixth-month anniversary with England. I went to a friend's birthday party to celebrate. I keep so busy here, something that I didn't do too much in Atlanta. My life is full of music and things to do in the evenings and nights on the weekends. I'm almost a little afraid that I'll be bored when I get back to the States. Nothing to think about for a few months, though.

I had an awful dream over the weekend that shocked me into a really bizarre kind of awakeness. I dreamt that I'd been shot in the head while trying to put wax paper over a door that was letting storm-rain into a store, and while I was shocked at the fact that I knew I would die, I slowly felt the nerves in my brain and down my spine numb themselves, and the storm sounds blurred themselves out. I've never dreamt that I've died before, and I've been so numbed and shocked by it that I've been asking my housemates and friends and people I work with if they've ever dreamt that they've died before, and the answers have been mixed, but interesting. It's made me start to think about dreams, more than usual.

I can't keep awake much longer, but I did feel that the six-month mark warranted an update.