In roughly twenty-four hours, I'll be on a bus to Dulles. All six of my grad school applications are done, and I'm about to send in my final two papers of the semester. I can't wait to be in London–there are a million things I want to do, but with researching being the primary goal, I doubt I'll be able to do everything.

I managed to persuade my dad that we need to take a trip to the National Gallery. I may or may not have subtly sent a link to the Banastre Tarleton portrait. (I think the plumed hat really did it for him.) Can't wait to talk his ear off about Tarleton's life story and how The Patriot is a dirty, dirty lie.

You sexy thing.

Rumor has it we might be going to The Hobbit premiere on Wednesday. William and Kate will be there. Try to hide your jealousy. Professor Long (my honors thesis advisor, fellowship mentor, and one of my favorite people in the world) suggested the Ceremony of the Keys at the Tower of London, which would've been incredible, but we don't have tickets. And, our hotel is two blocks away from Benjamin Franklin's house. Yes, you read that right. Benjamin. Franklin. So, I'll definitely be dragging my dad there. 

But I imagine our first stop will be a pub.