Last few days

The time has come, people. It feels like only yesterday I was nervously making my way into that fateful interview room at Orion Ltd, and now here I am on the eve of this terrifying trip.

This is why you shouldn't encourage people to save. Next thing you know, there's a credit crisis, interest rates drop and you're left with an unemployed 19 year old girl with £3k to burn.

Anyway, as the majority of my friends hadn't got back from Africa/university/last night's party by yesterday, Sajan and I were left to see me off alone. And by alone I mean surrounded by the violent water fowl of Windsor.

Yes, we went to feed the ducks. Thrilling, I know.

See, somewhere in my childhood, I worked out that if you throw the food (in this case, Tesco Value Cornflakes) into the dip in a swan's back where their wings meet, they all attack each other in some hilariously frantic feeding frenzy. Unfortunately, this meant I was soon surrounded by angry swans. It was like jumping straight into a piranha pond after chucking a leg of lamb in, except, you know, not in any way shape or form life threatening (actually, I have heard that swans can break your arm, but I have no fucking idea how they do it).

In retrospect, I should've just gone drinking, like we did for Twigz's leaving do. But instead we went back to mine, listened to Daft Punk and dressed Sajan up in gothic lolita clothing.



If that didn't get my brain ready for the sensory bukkake that is the streets of Harajuku, then I don't want to know what will. Thank god he's wearing clothes underneath.

Anyway, I've got to get 2 months of stuff into a tiny green suitcase (no, I'm not going to do what my brother did at university and put off washing anything for 3 months until he came home and got my mum to wash it to avoid laundry fees.) and as I have the spatial awareness of a humpback whale, this looks to be an all-nighter. My flight to Tokyo is tomorrow at 19.30.

Hopefully the panic attack will strike before I get on the plane and realise I'm going to a country with 3 systems of writing and multiple levels of vocal politeness armed only with a vocabulary of about 30 words. Why did you people not try to talk me out of this...