If anyone asks, you got in a fight.

First, my horoscope for the day:

Don't let the current hesitant attitude of yours extend into your emotional life, because it's taking enough out of you already trying to work out which way to go with it all. A discussion with an informed friend helps you regain some clarity regarding your current situation.

That'll come into play later. I just wanted to get it out there for right now.
This weekend was London, obviously, and oh. my. God. This will be mostly incoherent, because I'm mostly incoherent. Also, there's reading/note taking that I should be doing for a presentation that I have to do next week, so of course I'm avoiding that. I predict a long post. Maybe even with some feelings, for your added enjoyment.
Thursday night: Whisky society meeting. Got pleasantly drunk, chatted with a few people, learned that The Sopranos = the international perception of New Jersey. It was amusing getting shit about that from an Irish guy and a Swedish guy though. Then, I came back here and packed for London. Drunk packing is a lot easier than normal packing. I already knew that, but it bears repeating. Of course, you then spend the whole journey there wondering what you might have forgotten in your stupor.
Friday: Train to London left at 11. It's approximately a 5 hour trip, through Newcastle, York, Doncaster, etc. Basically, farms and sheep. And the occasional nuclear power plant and cliff overlooking the sea. England is a beautiful country. I did the travel parts with the girl that I've been going out and doing stuff with every week, so it was an enjoyable ride. When we got to London (King's Cross woo), we successfully navigated the Tube to get to our hotel. I then successfully used a map to navigate the above-ground walk to the hotel. I was so proud of myself, you have no idea. The hotel was questionable, but USC paid for everything, so there are no complaints here. Ashley and I dropped our stuff off and then went to look for a bakery that her friend who was studying in London had recommended. Some more successful navigation meant that I got a delicious cupcake, and then we went back to the hotel to wait for dinner. More people from our group had arrived at that point, and we ran into 3 guys from SC as we were walking into the hotel, walking out. That detail is mostly pointless. Setting the scene. Anyway. More people. There were 3 of us in my room: Ashley (the girl that I've been hanging out with), me, and Chelsea (whom I'd met at the welcome dinner, and is a Tri-Delt). No en-suite bathrooms, whatever. Sitting in the room waiting for it to be 7pm so we can meet the USC UK liaison (John Sharkey, a nice British guy who enjoys getting drunk with us and spending USC's money), there is a knock at the door. I answer it, and a guy asks for fire in French. I realize he wants a lighter, say sorry, and move on. A little later, a greasy looking Italian guy (not racist, totally accurate description) knocks on the door with a bottle of champagne and asks us to drink with them. Uh, nope. Sorry. Finally, time for dinner. A group of us go to a pub, since there is an hour before our dinner reservation, and the guys drink while the girls (some of the London students joined us) talk. Pansy, I know. For dinner, we go to a brasserie attached to a hotel near ours (I have this thing against restaurants attached to hotels, ask me about it sometime if you have time to listen to me complain), the food takes forever, we get through two bottles of wine before the appetizers. There are 9 of us eating. Two more bottles appear later. I know this is nothing compared to typical 4 people/5 bottle parties, but I was drunk enough that the food went from passable to delicious. After dinner, some of us went back to the same pub that we were at before, while Ashley and Chelsea went back to the hotel and went to bed. This is the sort of hotel where you have to turn in your one key every time you leave, so there had to be some strategizing about how I would get back into the room. Apparently, pubs in central London have last call at 11pm, so it was an early night. Getting back in the room was fun though, because everything was noisy, and I, of course, was trying to be a quiet drunk.
Okay, to be perfectly frank, I'm boring myself. There's something that I actually want to talk about, so let's just move on to that.
See that tag at the bottom that says "geology?" I have completely and inexplicably fallen in love with an SC geologist. This is why my horoscope is at the top there. If you're reading all of this, consider yourself an "informed friend," and discuss. Because, as you'll soon see, I am over-thinking this, per usual. His name is Glenn, he's a junior, doesn't live in the Rock House but knows everyone else there (which, duh. There are approximately 12 geologists, and we know everyone in the Rock House). When I walked out of the hotel to meet the rest of the group out front before dinner, he introduced himself and promptly explained to us how he'd received the nice looking gash and bump above his right eyebrow. Apparently, he got to the hotel, got ready to go exploring in the few hours he had before dinner, and promptly got hit in the face with a door by a non-English speaking porter. He then had to go lie down for 2 hours, to stop his head bleeding and throbbing. Seriously. Immediately, I am endeared. He sat next to me at dinner and at the pub afterwards, so we talked a lot. His mom is from Jersey, and he grew up going to the Jersey Shore every year (though he lived in Baton Rouge until his senior year of high school and then in Texas). The universe is somehow responsible for this, obviously. And I've inserted these tidbits of info here, because it matters to Saturday's events.
Saturday: Woke up early for breakfast (which I'm not even going to discuss because it was the worst ever). Ate, Glenn came down and sat with me and my roommates. Had an hour between breakfast and when we had to leave for the Globe Theater tour, so my roommates and I went back upstairs and watched the news. British news, even on Saturday mornings, far surpasses anything on American stations ever. We left the hotel, and I spent the rest of the morning strategically positioning myself as we were walking in our big group to the Globe and getting intensely jealous when anyone else was where I wanted to be. Guys, this is rapidly becoming terrible. I'm going to need to tone it down. Anyway. We toured the Globe, which was awesome. I would really like to see a play there because, as the tour guide said, it's like being inside a giant wooden instrument. The acoustics are unbelievable. After the Globe, everyone else had time to go off and do their own thing. Ashley was going to go off and meet her friend who was in London, which she of course invited me to do. I said I'd think about it, we all went to look at the exhibit that's attached to the Globe. At the end of that, there was a partial group meeting, one of those "anyone else want to do what I want to do" things. Glenn mentioned the British Museum, which we'd been talking about with some Arch students at the pub on Friday night. Obvs, when he asked if anyone else was up for that, I said yes. Another kid was going to go with us, but then decided to go with Ashley instead, as she was going to do stuff outdoors, and it was a gorgeous day. The universe is in my favor right now, apparently. I will have to continue to sacrifice babies or something (less funny because it's kind of true, disregard). Glenn and I went looking for the nearest Tube stop, met a singing porter who advised us of a better route and sang snippets of Neil Diamond and Johnny Cash for us, found the better route, and promptly got lost exiting the Tube. The Tube is awesome, but the maps are only really handy underground. Once you get above ground, you're on your own. So we had a mini-adventure, involving walking in a great big circle and being rude to a lady handing out Scientology pamphlets in front of the Scientology Centre. Like being in LA, but with the wrong spelling. Finally, we figured out where we needed to go, did so, and rewarded ourselves with Korean food for lunch- satisfying a serious craving that I'd been having. We then went to the British Museum, and I'm really not sure that I can actually talk about it. It was everything that I'd hoped and more. For those who don't know, I put on my USC application that my dream job was curator at the British Museum.
After the museum, we had to get to a theater in Piccadilly Circus for a play (The 39 Steps). Cue another adventure. Once again, Glenn and I got off the Tube and went the wrong direction above ground. Quite a team, really. But we got to the theater with like 5 minutes to spare, so, success. And our seats were next to each other (well, one apart, so I just took the empty one next to him since it was a small part of our USC group that had all of the seats around us), and the universe is again on my side. At the play, I ran into a girl that I'd studied with in Dijon, so we talked the whole way to, and then through, dinner. Made tentative plans to go back to Dijon in our free time this semester, which will be super nice. It'll be nice to hang out with her again when the other students come up to Edinburgh later this month. Glenn tried out his more exciting injury story on her at dinner, telling an involved tale about a Scottish pub and supporting an English team. We helped him make it more believable. On a semi-related note, Glenn lives in a "flat" with 11 freshmen guys (it sounds like a suite, really), and he was saying that they want to have an "around the world" party that weekend, because his flatmates have become obsessed with that idea since he mentioned it one time. Hilarious.
Post dinner, people once again got to do their own thing. Most of us had been drinking at dinner (I had two Sapporos, as it was a trendy Asian restaurant), so obviously the drinking had to continue. Glenn, two other guys (John and Matt [also in T.O., though I've never had class with them]), and I went to a liquor store, bought shitty wine, and went back to the hotel. They showered, I watched some NCIS, and then we reconvened to pregame before we decided what we wanted to do for the evening (it was approximately 8pm at this point). They all shared a room, along with the one other guy from my program that went down to London, and he came in as we were drinking and said that he was staying with some friends somewhere else that night. Sweet. We headed out and essentially got off the Tube at a completely arbitrary stop, chosen by Matt. We walked for like a block and found a pub that was actually open until 1am. Our evening was decided. And what an evening it was. Tequila shots were involved. Matt's from Boston, John from the Bay Area, so it was the sort of mixed group of Americans that makes for great times. I should mention that the Tube closes at 11:30, which we knew going into this. At midnight, we were all wasted, so we decided to go back to the hotel and finish our shitty wine. We walked forever, ended up back in Piccadilly, and had to say fuck it and take a cab because we never would have gotten back otherwise. The driver offered to sell us weed ahaha. We were drunk enough to say no. We got back to the hotel and stayed up until I don't even know drinking our wine. Either 4 or 5am. Glenn got into bed and John put shaving cream on his face. Ah, boys. I laughed harder that night than I have in months. It was so nice. And drunk. Jesus. In total, I had the 2 Sapporos, 3 pints and a tequila shot at the pub, and 7/8 of my bottle of wine (we each got our own at the liquor store, because we knew it was going to be one of those nights).
Sunday: Woke up at an ungodly hour for breakfast again, still drunk. Ate and packed everything up, left our bags with the front desk, and Ashley, Chelsea, and I went and saw Westminster Abbey and then Kensington Gardens. It was another beautiful day, so we really just wanted to do stuff that would allow us to walk around outside. I then got hungover, so the sun and mild weather were nice. Went back to the hotel, picked up our stuff, and headed to King's Cross to catch our trains. Ashley and I had one half an hour later than Chelsea's, so we spent our extra time taking a couple of pictures at the Platform 9 3/4 thing that they have. So cute. 2:30 rolled around, and we started the long ride back to Edinburgh. I pretty promptly passed out, because, yeah. 3 hours of sleep will do that. It's funny, because Ashley and Chelsea were both like "How are you awake right now?" throughout the day. Band has trained me well. When I got home, I waited forever for my mom to call so I could go to bed, and she didn't. So I finally called her at 11:30 and said wtf, basically. Thanks, Mom. We took care of all of the involved stuff for the apartment application for next year, and she told me that my family is still looking into coming over here during Easter. Then I finally went to bed at around 12:30.
Today: Skipped my 9am Buddhist Art lecture, and I refuse to be blamed for that. I needed the sleep, and attendance at lectures isn't kept. And the class powerpoints are put online, so it's really not even that academically irresponsible of me. Went grocery shopping. Went to my other class. Worked for a little while on the presentation that's due next week, since the library has recalled the book that I need to do it with (so annoying). I have until Thursday to read 150 pages. Easy. I had Indian takeaway for dinner, which was delicious, and I have leftovers that will last forever. Good day.
That's a run down of everything in my life. The things that need slightly more depth still are 1) Glenn and 2) my family visiting.
1) Glenn: I've said a lot already, but I think another thing that bears mentioning is how easy it is to talk to him. There were very, very few awkward silences of any sort while we were hanging out. Some of that was because I was talking too much out of nervousness, as I do, but he talked too. There were a few times where one of us would say something and the other would immediately say that they were just about to say that or were just thinking about that same thing. That means absolutely nothing, but it's so rare for that to happen with someone that I've just met. And it was random stuff, like how it seems that there's no unspoken rule for which way you should step when you confront someone going the other way on the sidewalk here (seriously, there seem to be a lot more awkward run-ins here, and not just between foreigners and Brits, but Brits and Brits too). We have sort of plans to go to a football match here on Sunday, as you Facebook stalkers have probably seen, so I'm pretty excited about that. Okay, enough of him for now.
2) My family: I am so stoked (yes, stoked) that my family are probably coming to visit. It's really a shame that they can't come any other time, as that's part of my Spring Break, and I've had to tentatively cancel my plans to go to the Iberian Peninsula with Lena (seriously, sorry again about that), but I think it will be amazing to be able to show them around here. It always makes me sort of sad to know that I've done more extensive traveling than my father has, because I feel like it's something that he would enjoy so much. When he was young, he did a lot of traveling in the US and some in Canada, but he's never been to Europe. So much of my personality and so many of my interests come from him that it's an opportunity I would love for him to have. My brother is supposed to go to Germany with his class next year, and if that were to happen with my dad still never having been to Europe, I think it would secretly destroy him a little. He's very proud of us and glad that we've had the opportunities that we have, but can you imagine your children both getting to do something like going to Europe when you haven't? It's probably terrible. My mom went to Czechoslovakia in high school, so she's seen a little bit, but this is something else entirely. They're looking into airfares now, which is good. Approximately 2 weeks ago, they were fairly set on not coming. I have no idea what happened back home between then and now, but I'm glad it did happen. I sort of suspect that my dad keeps pushing this, which, good for him. This is the home of golf and Scotch, after all.

I am being so ridiculously sentimental right now. Holy fuck. I'm sorry for making that so long, but it was a bunch of stuff that I'd like to remember forever. Well, some of it. The rest is stuff that my horoscope said that I should discuss. If you read all of it, do what I do and blame the universe. Now I really do have to do some work. I'll put pictures up tomorrow, I'm sure. I'm too tired of typing to do the whole captioning thing right now. Something else for you to look forward to.

And Erin's back on AIM for me to harass, so that's that. Peace, fuckers.

- C

EDIT: Since I've been asked already, and to head off anymore stealth photo requests, here:


Far left, guys. And yeah, all of my pants are too big now. We'll not even get into that. Also, I am apparently tall-ish. Hah. Sweet. Posting this picture makes me feel slightly less creepy than stealing one from Facebook would. Next time you see Brad, get him to log into Facebook for you or something. Tell him it's research. They are obviously friends.

Further comment responses: No, Erin, I haven't found a boy for you yet. Unless the Scottish economist will do.

<3s.>