It must be love.

There are things I know I'll miss next year. Things like my friends, my family and driving on the right (read: correct) side of the road. But I was recently reminded of something else. A something else that is very near to my heart. College football. And my oh my, what a great reminder it was.

I hope, for your sake, that you didn't miss the Baylor v. TCU game last night. Actually, if you're television-owning American and you're alive, I'm not sure you could have. And for good reason. Not only was it the only game on, it was stellar. A great game. High-energy, high-scoring (albeit often low-defending), and so fun to watch. Plus, Baylor won, and Lord knows I love my Bears.

            (Which is why I don't mind how blatantly one-sided this highlight reel is.)

Did it give me a heart attack? Well, sure. More than once. Did I yell at the television? Until I was hoarse. Was I really, really sad I wasn't in Waco to see it live? Duh.

                                                         (I can get a little excited.)

But I loved every minute of it. (Except for the majority of that ugly, ugly fourth quarter, but whatevs. No harm done, right?)

Afterward, I realized something. There is no football in England. Well, there is, but it's soccer--totally different. Don't get me wrong, I love soccer. I played for years. But there's just something wonderful about college football--the American kind. There really is no substitute. I'm seriously going to miss it.

So I'd like to apologize in advance to my future roommates and soon-to-be friends from the UK for what is sure to be a rough couple of months for all of us.

I will undoubtedly try to talk football with you, despite the fact that you'll probably have neither context nor concern for it. I will most likely be shocked and saddened the first few weekends I turn on the TV and discover it's not on any of the channels. And, consequently, you will certainly find me in my room, door shut, staring at ESPN.com for hours upon end. But the good news, for you, is that this all will be for only a season. It, like so many other wonderful things in life, must eventually come to an end. So if you'll just be patient and put up with my craziness for a few months, I promise that I'll finally be normal again.

At least until college basketball gets underway.

This just in.

10 days!

Holy cow.  Is this real life?

The problem is...

I don't think the bedroom in my little London flat has a closet. It has a wardrobe, but really what does that mean? I'm thinking I'll have to get pretty creative in terms of space and storage this year.

What I'm trying to say is any tips for living sans-closet would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks in advance.

Hey big spender.

We were supposed to go to New York this weekend.  That is, until we found out Irene was planning to arrive right as we did. Then we cancelled.

But it turned out okay since:
1) We got our flights/hotel/Broadway tickets refunded.
2) I got to go shopping.

If you know me, you know I don't really like spending money. Especially not on myself. Especially not on frivolous things. This weekend was an exception.

Guys, I actually got stuff!  And there were some ah-mazing sales.  Like the $98 blazer I got for $19. Most of it was really practical (jackets, boots, thick socks and other I-think-I-will-need-this-in-England stuff).

But I did buy a completely unnecessary pair of shoes.

(Absolutely unnecessary and entirely impractical.)

And I love them.

Dress up.

You know how the very first thing you do once you get back from a day of shopping is try on everything you got? Even though you already tried it on (maybe even more than once) before you decided to buy it?

Oh, you don't do that? Right, me neither. Because that would be weird.

Freak out.

Y'all.

Guess what.

I'm moving in TWO WEEKS. Less than that actually.  In two weeks I'll have just landed in Paris. (We're taking the scenic route.) And in two and a half weeks, I'll be in Kingston Upon Thames. Where I'll live for the next year. At least.

What the heck?!

And I realize I haven't written all that much. But that's okay, since I've spent the last few weeks trying to figure out all the details involving this whole I'm-going-to-be-living-in-a-foreign-country thing. Well that's kind of not true. Mostly I've just been sitting around the house reading and occasionally adding an item or two to my suitcase. But I promise to try and do better once I have more to write about than how hot it is or how many times I beat my mom in Words With Friends this week.

(Which, by the way, is like 17 times. Sorry mom!)

So yeah, I'll keep you posted. But right now, I have to go eat ice cream.

Oh, and I realize using the word "y'all" isn't going to help me fit in any better. But what can I say, I went to school in Texas, and those things just rub off on ya.

Lipstick.

I'm typically a t-shirt and shorts kind of gal, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised when people mistake me for a high schooler.  But there are days when I actually want to look 23.

Today was one.

There was a cosmetics sale at the drugstore here, so I stocked up on lipstick. I don't usually wear lipstick. I'm kind of afraid of lipstick. But I really want to be able to pull it off. Then I remembered that the people who can pull off stuff like that are the ones who go ahead and wear it. So I bought a few shades (the less-than-safe kinds) and tried it on. Though I did sort of feel like a little girl playing dress up with her mom's makeup, I actually kind of liked it.

But I still chickened out and took it off before leaving the house. Then I thought about how no one will know me in the UK (absolutely no one) and how I'll be free to do things I wouldn't do, like wear bright lipstick. So made what I predict will be the first of many London Resolutions:

"Wear lipstick."

Like this.
(Please note our bathroom's
sweet dolphin wallpaper.)

We'll see if I'm brave enough to stick with it once I'm there.