September 4, 2014
Tonight as I’m sitting in my apartment with all of the girls on this trip, one upperclassman leader, and one employee from the coffee shop where we have class (her name is Aine), while Emily plays the guitar and we all spontaneously sing, I’m thinking about how the simplest things make me love this place...

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Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated.

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