I Am in England.

Pinching myself about this because, for a while there (like the whole past 2 weeks), it was looking rather dubious. After housing issues and a fall-through in the programme just a month before departure, I had no idea the biggest hurdle was yet to come: as I fondly refer to it -- The Visa Nightmare:

August 26: Fill out 6,349* required pages of visa application paperwork, but have to wait until..
September 1: ..for my 'biometrics' (aka fingerprinting) appointment in Seattle. Application is sent to the British consulate in New York via overnight delivery.
September 8: Get an e.mail from the consulate saying they've JUST BEGUN processing my visa. (Departure countdown: 5 days.)
September 12: No sign of visa being finished. Call airline about changing ticket. Estimated cost: twice the price of what I paid for original ticket.
September 13: Consulate e.mails: visa is processed. Being shipped next-day delivery... but by 4pm it still has not left New York.
September 14: Bags packed. Ben and I race to Bellingham's UPS hub at 8.45am. Passport and visa are, miraculously, there. Drive to airport. Get in plane. Fly to England. La dee dah.

Actually, fly to Paris, get on very small plane to Manchester, haul 80 lbs of luggage to the train station, take train to Sheffield, haul said luggage to tram station, take tram to Upperthorpe, haul said luggage 1/2 a mile to my house, for the next year. At that point I could've been happy with accomodation resembling a chicken coop, as long as it had a place to sleep and pee.

Ironically there are quite a few ways in which the house could be compared to a chicken coop but.. more on that later. The above photo is the view from my bedroom window, so clearly there are worse chicken coops. It is good to be in England.

*only a slight numerical exaggeration.