Cheeri-O

I've decided I'm moving to Britain. I came to that conclusion today, while sitting in my torturous Colonial American history class. Really, I think I'm destined to live there at some point, so why not go while I'm still young and care free (hahaha!). Teach American history or government to a bunch of obnoxious British high-schoolers. It's my dream, really. Hey, that psychic told me I was going to end up with a foreigner, and by foreigner she meant some English or Irish guy. So in reality, it's my destiny as well as my dream. Isn't it wonderful when those two colide? I think so. And I'm making Liz come with me, because I'll need someone to share my flat with. She can go dig up ancient English monarchs or teach obnoxious British high schoolers about American Indians or something.
Well, there you have it. My life plan. Maybe not as thorough and thought out as some people's plans (ah-hem, you know who) but it will work fine. And if it doesn't work? Then, fuck. I'll move back home and make my parents finish off the attic. Or live on my friend's couch while I work for minimum wage at a local liquor store. I mean, why mess with something you're good at? I'm sure the Koreans up the street from school would hire me.
Bloody hell (see, I'm practicing my British) I still have a paper to write. At this point, I actually have to work on it because it is due tomorrow.