penny lane is in my ears, and in my eyes.

a little less than two weeks, lovelies.

i can see london-heathrow as i type, i swear it. slow-mo walking across abbey road, playing around piccadilly circus, trafalgar square, and harrod's... indulging in a pistacchio and strawberry cake pop of course... remember? bucket list? not to mention shopping portobello road in notting hill, {cue bill withers}. sunday the fifteenth, you can find me wandering hyde park, listening to young revolutionists proclaim their most well thought out ideas from soap boxes. and later in the week, i will share a long awaited kiss with the one that i love. his name is the blarney stone. and we're practically married. i'm pretty committed, and have been since i heard the word ireland so many years ago. i was young when we were introduced, but our love is forever.

for now, however, i must dream sweetly of gerrit rietveld, phillip johnson, and karim rashid... for my academic fate lies within their now-tainted names. they're brilliant men, but i'd rather not be tested on the course of our courtship.

that means history of interiors final, people. 
tomorrow. 

{good night.}

p.s.
still beatles obsessed. i think it's for good this time.