Its not my fault

K I lack a computer, it is difficult to keep up with the blog! With that out of the way. First, what the hell does "Hannah will be apples" mean? Also. I am so sick of packing. Seriously. And cleaning. So so so so so tired :O 

Oh boo hoo hoo, I have to pack for a month in the UK. I am in reality quite pumped, which I must remember not to say in England. Apparently it implies that one is nursing. Could be awkward in a social situation, such as meeting a hot man in a bar or discussing the news with an elderly woman. Spaz is also off limits, it means retard in the worst possible sense. Fag, however, is okay! referring to the deadly yet socially acceptable cigarette. As opposed to in America, where it describes the often quite lively! yet socially outcast gay man.  

We dropped all our stuff off at the house today, and let me tell you, it was a piece of luck that dad came down to help. I don't know where the hell we had all that crap hidden. I need to be less of a pack rat. Things just all have sentimental value! On a higher note, I packed everything I needed into my one backpack. My compression method of packing (re: putting clothes in Ziploc bags then squeezing the air out) has been quite the success. I've managed to drag along more clothes than Allie, who has a whole duffel bag suitcase thing! I site my pack rat nature. God knows what I'll come back with. 

Last night we had a sleepover to say goodbye, it was super fun. (Side note: must try special brownies). I'll be on a plane in less than 24 hours. I think we'll pick our ten day vacation by bibliomancy, the art of divination through (in this case) travel books. Yay mysticism! Speaking of which, we were supposed to play with an ouija board tonight. Actually it is probably good that fell through, I have the feeling we might have been cursed and the plane fallen out of the sky or some such thing. Knock on Wood. 

Ta ta for now,

Hannah