You Stay Classy, Oxfordshire

I planned to go to Tanmay's goodbye drinks tonight at 9:15, and woke up at 9:20 to Erika in my room asking if I was ready to go, politely ignoring the fact that I was asleep on my bed with my face creased by a copy of Cannery Row after our last red wine-infused LGBTSoc meeting of the year. And I was drooling a little. (The fact that I'm reading Steinbeck in this scenario is officially the only thing keeping me firmly on the grad student side of the grad student vs. tramp dichotomy. Worse, I'm not entirely certain where I'll fall on that continuum by the end of the summer.)