People tell me that I remind them of Kesha. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because of my terrible singing voice or my love of glitter. Either way, I'm taking this as a compliment. Because it's Fling. 

Contrary to popular belief, this is the most wonderful time of the year. We're taking off our parkas and taking to College Green. We'll watch prefrosh cover campus in lanyards and energetic parents. For once, it's all good.

Fling is magical. Fling is the only time we come together. For once, we share a common goal: having fun, with or without alcohol. Everyone asks: Have you bought tickets for X event on Thursday? Do you have a wristband for Y event on Saturday? The answer is no. I haven't planned my Fling. And I love that. This is the only time of year where I am unplanned. And I am so excited to stop looking at my planner for the next couple of days. 

But that doesn't mean I haven't been preparing. I've been listening to Kesha all week in the Street office. Okay, so maybe I'm listening on Spotify Private session, but I'm ready to live a crazy, beautiful life, if only for an extended weekend. 

Your love is my drug,