to make me jealous of fried chicken from all the way across the country! Bastard. I do love you though. And when I think about you jaunting off to South Africa because you're called to do it I want that kind of calling for myself and the gumption to go through with it.
For now I'm settling in with my medical spanish books and working on my imaginary assessment skills. That and making deviled eggs tonight. Oh, and tomorrow I'm going to do my best to ride the bus passed the fried chicken place tomorrow even though I haven't been able to think about anything else since Brian left his bizaarely endearing, and cryptically hypnotic voicemail about fried chicken yesterday.
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