'Cause I'm a moon-walking cowboy, dusty riding and I don't know what's in store

Wow, it's been a while. I barely begun this blog and then left it unattended for a month. See, you're already learning so much about me: I love to initiate exciting (at least for me) things, but to keep them going, that's another matter. But I think I'll try harder this time --if not, my narcisstic urge to talk about myself will do the work for me.

But I have some good excuse for not having posted for this long. You want to know what I've been up to? No? I'm going to tell you anyway!

I survived finals thanks to huge amounts of caffeine and nicotine forcefully put into my body, I watched a sick amount of season finales (most of which were terrible), I took a road trip and fell in love with Memphis, I ate so much junk food I will never eat a burger again, I started running everyday while listening to angry rock songs, I had my first American picnic, I tried to address some of my issues and then decided that it would be better to leave them where they are, I went
to the top of the Arch, I've been listening non stop to Blitzen Trapper and "Season of Love" by Shiny Toy Guns (the latter has corny lyrics, but what can I say), I watched Freddy vs Jason and wished Freddy had won, I got tanned and bitten by crazy mosquitoes, I discovered this awesome blog way too late (which you can see by the url only, http://presidentgeorgebush.blogspot.com ), and I realized that bad timing was the story of my life. More on that later (see how I manage to efficiently build suspense? I'm so talented sometimes.)

Now, you want to know why I got caught up in such a whirlwind of activities? If the answer is no, well, you haven't learned much since you started reading this, have you?

This high level of agitation is due to the fact that (and this is when the violins start playing) I am leaving America in exactly 18 days--yep, thats eighteen! And so I am losing a little bit of my heart everyday that goes by. America, you had me at hello.

I don't know what will happen next, or what I will do. What am I supposed to do in a country where people understand my name? Where no one asks me where I'm from? How will I survive without students wearing flip-flops in January? Without frisbee? Without Jon Stewart? Without coffee shops? Without Target?

But most of all, what will I do without you guys? Discuss in 5 pages, font 12, double-spaced.

PS: the title of this post is borrowed from Blitzen Trapper's "Not Your Lover", and if you want me to really like you, you should listen to this band immediately.