A LENNY KRAVITZ UPDATE:
Swedish (left) and Fish (right)
My computer apparently doesn't like Czech internet, so I can't really even steal pictures from online to show you where I am. In light of this calamity, I have instead chosen the giant metronome in Prague as the key to your visual understanding of the city as well as to remind you of the steady beat of my heart for you all, even while so far away (no Elis allowed).
Since being here I may have stolen a Swede's bed, but one Anton Q SwedishChef stole Ann's heart. It would seem that for our foreign roommates the size of pants/length of hair relationship is inverse. My future ex-boyfriend Emil is pushing about 10 ponytails, so you do the math. (They are very small)
In other news:
The only correct response to "you lahf dirty dancing" when Time of Your Life is playing is yes, yes I do lahf dirty dancing. It is actually the only thing you need to know about Praha at all. Nobody puts Swedes in a corner.
Beer is cheaper here than water, and I think I may have a European hangover.
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