Cheerio, mates.

Fear not, my fellow Americans: I have arrived.

As promised, I am now writing to you from Oxford,England.
It's quite chilly here and I'm learning to wear mittens all the time. My poor fingers weren't prepared.
Everything is expensive here, so ignorance is bliss when it comes to looking at prices.
Ah, and everything comes in pie form.
We all know how much I love the word pie, right? Right.

I live in a house with 5 other boys. Don't feel bad for me-- it is magnificent. I get my own room (which, of course, is at the very top of the stairs on the third floor. Thanks, Oxford. Are you saying I need exercise?)
Our house is, as Bino so aptly coined earlier, called "Sausage and Meesh."
(Get it? Sausage and Mash? But I'm Meesh? Got it? It's clever.)

We have a sweet dungeon basement straight out of The Cask of Amontillado. I think the jester is still walled in down there, but I'm afraid to look.

Classes don't start until next week, I think. My tutor for History of Modern Art just emailed me, so now I am partially in the know of what's going on. We are sitting through a lot of lectures right now, though. Which is my favorite thing to do. I'm not ancy. I can sit still for hours on end.
Right?

I'm starving right now. I could really go for some chicken pie or something similarly grossly-named.

Pictures will be up soon.

Good night, England, and good luck.