Now you may scoff at the cheesy blog name, but I have two things to say to that:
- Don’t be mean, it took me months (seriously) to think of a title until I realised that the word ‘sum’ is just like ‘sun’ and ring-a-ding-ding we have a blog name.
- I don’t care what you think because I’m about to move to CALIFORNIA for a YEAR.
I think we know who’s winning here.
We should probably both take a step back and I’ll explain who I am, what this blog is all about, and why you should choose to read this blog rather than one of the 73 zillion other blogs which are online (in 2012 there were 87.8 million tumblr blogs and 59.4 million wordpress sites. That’s a lot of competition.). If you haven’t already guessed numbers are my jam: big ones, little ones, ones which don’t actually exist, we all get along quite nicely which is why I’m about to embark on my third (and penultimate) year of a Mathematics & Statistics degree. I should be continuing it in Glasgow but the opportunity arose to do it abroad instead so here I am, eight weeks away from moving 5000 miles away from home. You don’t need to be doing a maths degree to know that’s a pretty big number, there are a fair few zeroes coming after that ‘5’ but I try not to dwell on that too much and instead I think about the sun, the people, the incredible outdoors and the sun. Did I mention the sun? Being a peely wally Scot there are three possible outcomes when it comes to my skin:
- I’ll come back as pale as I left
- I’ll come back and be indistinguishable from a beetroot
- I’ll have turned into a giant freckle
I’m holding out for number three, I’ve made my peace with the fact that as a direct result of both my heritage and my love of scones I will never be a bronzed beach babe .
In-n-out burgers and fro-yo (practicing the hip lingo) will have to suffice for the next year though as I’m jetting off to a college town, Davis, in Northern California where I’m guessing quaint, British baked goods aren’t going to be the easiest to come by. I will perhaps need to lay off the fries though as I’m a bridesmaid in my Auntie’s wedding when I gets back and she has already warned me she ‘doesn’t want a fat bridesmaid’. Charming.
I suppose that’s me for now chaps, I’ll hopefully be directing another jet of verbal diahorrea in your general direction fairly soon.
Peace out (more hip lingo right there). They’re going to love me in the States.