Yes, it’s true. Two years after graduation and I think I have finally figured out my life.
The details are a little hazy—okay, really hazy—but it’s going to be awesome.
I'm moving to England.
I’m moving to England and getting my masters.
It’s a done deal. And by done deal, I mean I thought of it (with help from my co-workers) last Thursday and it sounded perfect.
Do I know when? Where? How? Or even what I’ll get a masters in? No. Those are minor details. But it’s gonna happen; don’t even doubt it.
There’s more to the plan, but that’s for a select few to know.
I'll take afternoon tea here once a month.
I'll traipse about the country of my ancestors...which is pretty much all of England...and Ireland...and Scotland.
Everyone will visit me and we'll go see this.
Okay, fine. I’ll tell you the rest of my plan. But I swear I’m not as silly (or girlie) as this sounds. If you do laugh, please don't do it in front of me. I just may cry if you do. Or punch you in the face. Or both.
I’m moving to England and getting my masters and marrying an English guy* who:
• will have an awesome accent (my PA accent will totally seal the deal for him);
• will think I'm hilarious because he gets my dry humor (and I'll think he's hysterical);
• will iron my shirts (I’ll take out the trash);
• will give me red-headed little girls (but he'll have brown hair, so this might get tricky);
• and will have the last name “Haven” (so I can name
Oh, and he’ll have good teeth. (I know he's out there!)
Now if only I can figure out how to fund living in England while earning a masters. But my eternal salvation is worth any amount of debt…right? Pretty sure I heard that from a GA.
*I would also settle for any of the following: Christian Bale, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, or Milo Ventimiglia.