Dear Reader,

Are you currently thirty eight thousand feet above the sea, in super first class, staring at the bright blue ocean out the window? Does your toughest problem consist of choosing whether to sip said caipirinha, or snuggle with another one of the three Eastern European mail order brides that are accompanying you? If you are, are you actually me, using the in-flight wifi in an airplane from an alternate universe? Because I'm currently doing all of those things.

But Kevin, you were so close to graduating, you say. Yeah, but you should have seen the deal I got on I cashed out all of my savings, proposed to my long-time Estonian love correspondents Uljana, Anastajia, and Sofija and set out for South America.

(By the way, there's a Prius in long term parking at LAX with the keys on the dash, in case you're interested).

Oh, how heavenly it is to never again read another Inform, spend hours browsing the Internets to find a funny quotation, or get yelled at for forgetting someone's event. I don't think I'll miss it in the slightest.

So reader: best of luck out there in the wide Claremont world, with your hundreds horribly formatted emails, calendar system that no one checks. If you thought I would be thinking about you while I'm playing beach volleyball on the sands of Copacabana, or dancing the tango in the hottest nightclubs in Lapa, you are sadly mistaken.

Yours No Longer,
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