I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days–three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.
~John Keats

Went out for Rachel’s birthday to On Anon, which is a nice club except for the cover charge of £7 = the suck. Danced for a while with friends, was stalked creepily, met a boy named Tom, came home late. The end.