So I am in England. I am also ill and feverish, which is just lovely. I move into res tomorrow. I have no fucking idea what I am doing.

I've never lived in res before. And because I'm an international student I'll be shoved into a variety of activities with the freshers and as lovely as I'm sure many eighteen-year-olds can be, I do not look forward to spending an extended amount of time with them when it's their first time living away from home and they're barely legal to drink. Gosh, I feel old. Three years makes a fucking big difference ok? That being said, there's part of me that rather wants to go to parties and get drunk and such things, but that's more because I desperately want to make friends and there's a rather large part of my brain that is reminding me 'pfft, everyone's going to see you as the blind girl and will either be too uncomfortable to talk to you or treat you as some sort of superficial cherity project'. But I am trying not to be cinacle (read: lying to myself). People who live in res get all the ridiculous stories and happy happy friendships and all the eighteen-year-olds who are feeling sexually adventurous -- I mean what?
And I've got a fucking Panic at the Disco song stuck in my head, and if there's anything that can make one feel more like an embarrassing emo teenaged stariotype I have yet to find it.