Testosterone in London


I’m going to London! The acceptance letter came last week. I’m over the initial shock, but now it’s just terrifying that it’s real. I’ve never even been to Canada, so my first international experience will be spending four months in Europe. It’s kinda similar to someone wanting to try to play Tennis so, naturally, the next logical step would be to throw them into Wimbledon. I’m terrified, but totally psyched and ready to make metaphorical grunting noises when hitting the tennis ball of life.

Of course, I have to creep all over the Facebook group that the Study Abroad office set up for us and see who I am traveling with. Get this, of the fourteen people that have joined the group so far, ONE is male. Are you kidding me? WHY?

I wasn’t trying to make it my mission to find a dude while overseas, but COME ON. I chose not to apply to an all-girls college for a reason. I like boys, and I think I’ll like them even better while over the pond. I want them to pick up little English accents and I want to get drunk with them at pubs. I want to travel to other countries with them and share plates of linguini a la Lady and the Tramp. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

Alas, the group is still adding people so I will just have to wait and see what other fine gentlemen pop up in my newsfeed. The creeping will be steady and frequent. I have no shame.

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