...as of next Saturday, to visit the mothership. This is exciting on many counts, not least that I might actually see the sun. Seriously, Deutschland, the fuck is wrong with you? So cold, so grey, so piss-miserable. Upon my return I want sunny skies, rising temperatures and some form of street carnival*. Get to it, B-lizzle.
As a result of my impending vacay I am about to head off bikini shopping. This is likely to prove difficult for several reasons. The first is that I am stony, stony broke. The second is that it is so cold outside the thought of a garment such as a bikini seems both terrifying and laughable. The third, and most overriding, difficulty in the Megan-swimwear equation is the fact that I am, and forever have been, so pale as to be translucent. And no, not in a luminous, could-be-an-extra-on-the-next-Twilight way (I freakin' WISH), just the bog standard, Irish, just-crawled-out-from-under-a-rock way. Le sigh.
* Not necessarily in my honour, though that would be a nice touch.