I did the laundry. And all that.
The past three days have really flown by (bad pun, I'm sorry), and it's all wrapping up. 24 hours to liftoff. The laundry is finished, brought up, folded, put away, taken out, unfolded, rolled up, stuffed unceremoniously into my purple suitcase and smothered in the multitude of requested items I'm bringing with me on my atmospheric descent. Well, hopefully without a premature decent. The female overseer has taken me briefly from my solitude for an odd activity she calls "shoe shopping". My footwear is just fine thanks. A couple holes and ripped-off soles never hurt anyone.
500 dollars is now sitting on my desk top (+11 preliminary euros, which the warden has just left in my possession), and I feel oddly overburdened by it. I mean, who in their right mind would take one hundred bucks and shove it into a tiny little slip of rice-paper? Those dinky little cloth strips are bound to get lost, and with one - bam - one ninth of my meager funds is gone (other 400 are accessible through my card) (I really should stop talking, before one of you gets a clever idea).
While we're here, I may as well run you down the preregistered lists of things-to-do and all that nonsense. These were explained to me two nights ago by a very excited (and sick :( ) German Sis, who, being 9 hours ahead time-wise, decided that it would be neat to keep me up until 3am discussing each member of our altering caravan of escapees.
(I have four sisters and a brother, whose pseudonyms are placed with mine in order of age, ascending:
Little One (10),
NYC Girl (15),
Noah (me) (17),
German Sis (17),
College Chick (18),
and German Bro (20))
First and foremost, the time allotted will be 35 days exactly. My escape plan is to be executed at 7:30pm tomorrow, I shall arrive in the designated locale on the 21st of June, and my grudging return shall occur on the 26th of July. There may or may not be time for potty breaks. (I may have to start calling it the loo, if we hop over to the UK).
My sister has decreed, in full royal manner, that:
I shall have two days of rest upon my arrival.
Following this brief intermission, we shall hop in a car and zip down to visit Heidelberg, Freiberg, and Innsbruck, where we will meet a brief leisure period and rendezvous with my German Bro.
We will return to Steyerburg, and then we'll be driving down to Antwerp for a music festival (big props to Miss Germane for the tickets).
Then, the stake out of the mission target. Breda University. So want to see that. Also meeting up with my German Bro.
Heding off to Maastricht, then Amsterdam for two days, and hightailing back to their place, just in time for the insanity of celebrating my European Brethren's 21st trip around our star. Past that, life will be the chillest, and of that I am assured.
Big day tomorrow.
Feeling like I'm trapped in a suit of armor charging into battle. Hope I don't get shanked.
500 dollars is now sitting on my desk top (+11 preliminary euros, which the warden has just left in my possession), and I feel oddly overburdened by it. I mean, who in their right mind would take one hundred bucks and shove it into a tiny little slip of rice-paper? Those dinky little cloth strips are bound to get lost, and with one - bam - one ninth of my meager funds is gone (other 400 are accessible through my card) (I really should stop talking, before one of you gets a clever idea).
While we're here, I may as well run you down the preregistered lists of things-to-do and all that nonsense. These were explained to me two nights ago by a very excited (and sick :( ) German Sis, who, being 9 hours ahead time-wise, decided that it would be neat to keep me up until 3am discussing each member of our altering caravan of escapees.
(I have four sisters and a brother, whose pseudonyms are placed with mine in order of age, ascending:
Little One (10),
NYC Girl (15),
Noah (me) (17),
German Sis (17),
College Chick (18),
and German Bro (20))
First and foremost, the time allotted will be 35 days exactly. My escape plan is to be executed at 7:30pm tomorrow, I shall arrive in the designated locale on the 21st of June, and my grudging return shall occur on the 26th of July. There may or may not be time for potty breaks. (I may have to start calling it the loo, if we hop over to the UK).
My sister has decreed, in full royal manner, that:
I shall have two days of rest upon my arrival.
Following this brief intermission, we shall hop in a car and zip down to visit Heidelberg, Freiberg, and Innsbruck, where we will meet a brief leisure period and rendezvous with my German Bro.
We will return to Steyerburg, and then we'll be driving down to Antwerp for a music festival (big props to Miss Germane for the tickets).
Then, the stake out of the mission target. Breda University. So want to see that. Also meeting up with my German Bro.
Heding off to Maastricht, then Amsterdam for two days, and hightailing back to their place, just in time for the insanity of celebrating my European Brethren's 21st trip around our star. Past that, life will be the chillest, and of that I am assured.
Big day tomorrow.
Feeling like I'm trapped in a suit of armor charging into battle. Hope I don't get shanked.
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