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I’ve always known the Brits couldn’t do electrics, but their plumbing is shockingly bad as well. But hello! I’m sitting in beautiful Sunninghill, Berkshire England. It’s been a freaking whirlwind up to this point. I beat myself to a pulp, and loved it. But I also jet lagged hard, and crashed at ten last night. But I was up at 7:30 and everything’s together now. I’ve taken more pictures than you could believe, have been using the heck out of the wonderful travel journal Sarah made, and am starting to think of how the comic is going to come together. That’s all for now, I’m still alive. Oh, local # over here – t-mobile from the states didn’t work. If you’re a friend’s lister, you’ll notice the only difference is this version of the post doesn’t have my phone #. But if you want it and you can’t see the other post, email me.
Anyway, I’m still alive, going to hang out with Uncle Frank here for another half hour / forty minutes, then it’s back off to Londontown… Which has already entranced me. There’s so much more to say, but I’ll keep it to this for now. I’m alive, I’m having an amazing experience, and I wish there were some way to request political asylum or something. More soon.

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