Since I am leaving for a tour of the Highlands tomorrow morning, I should probably update this with spring break happenings now. They were myriad and slightly more exciting than what I've been doing for the last week.
Lena came to visit from March 20th to the 29th, which was absolutely brilliant. I can't really describe the feeling of having an actual friend to hang out with and talk to after 3 months divorced from everything that I considered real life back in CA. Making friends is one thing, but it takes a long time to actually get to the level of comfort with one another where you can just have fun. So that made everything that we did that much more enjoyable.
As for what we actually did, there was first the trip to St. Andrews to visit Lena's Cal friend Elizabeth. St. Andrew's is an adorable, tiny (only 3 main streets) town, and I'm definitely going to look into going to grad school there. The school has a museum studies masters program, and my grandmother (and father) would be super thrilled. I'll probably go back there later this month or early in May to meet with people in the art department and see what exactly the grad program entails.
After that, there was a ton of Edinburgh sightseeing. We did Craigmillar Castle, which I'd never seen, and Edinburgh Castle, which I had. I really love castles. It's so easy to imagine what life may have been like when people actually inhabited them, whether they be complete or in ruins. They're fun places to let your imagination run wild (also, I've seen too many period movies/read too many period romances). We also went to two of the main museums in Edinburgh, the National Gallery (art) and the National Museum (natural history/culture). Free museums never stop being awesome. However, as far as I saw, the National Gallery has no Caravaggios. Unforgivable. It's also arranged like a typical nineteenth-century art museum, which, while interesting for me as a study in the changes that have occurred in museum display over the years, makes the whole place super overwhelming for the typical patron (I assume). The National Museum is a lot of fun with some really interesting displays and juxtapositions within the Early Peoples exhibits especially. Enough about that, but seriously. I could write a paper on that place. Maybe I will. It could be part of an honors thesis topic.
On the less cultural front, we did some clubbing, which hahaha. I am awful at that scene, but it's always entertaining anyway. I don't even know what to write about it. I feel that Brits tend to do the clubbing thing when they're younger (say 18ish) and then graduate to flat parties and stuff by the time that they're 3rd years and up. It's very much a younger crowd at the clubs here. Pubs, however, are a mix of all ages. And older Brits go clubbing, too, so it's a weird mix of 18 and 40 year olds. Plus a bunch of international visitors and travelers of all ages, of course.
At the end of her visit, Lena so graciously gifted me the most awkward night of my life sharing a couple of mattresses on the floor (they follow me wherever I go) with her and a French guy named Julien. We went to Glasgow to see the city/visit him (someone met in a club in Budapest), and a series of misunderstandings and cultural faux-pas followed. It was a good time, no doubt. I just suck really hard at interacting with the French. It mostly has to do with my complete American-ness and how the French are so similar to us in mentality, just French. They expect everyone to adopt their cultural affectations when they're around (not in a rude or mean way, but still), and we expect everyone to be familiar to and receptive of the American way of doing things. So handshakes are out, kisses on the cheeks are in, etc. I have a personal space bubble, and I often seem really rude to Europeans. I know this, but if I'm not thinking, it's really hard for me to not offend people (the French especially). I really admire French culture etc etc, I just don't think that could ever be me haha. The most I can manage is a happy medium between American and French. I have yet to discover what that is. But yeah, Glasgow. It's a city, plain and simple. Big (relatively), dirty, and ugly. There are good parts, but I have no interest in living there. That's for sure. Glasgow sort of terrifies me, not least because I can't understand a word that the inhabitants say. I may visit again, just to see some of the more famous sites, but it's not somewhere to spend any long period of time. Unless you want to be a violent football hooligan, that is. Then, all you have to do is support Rangers or Celtics (definitely not both), and you're well on your way.
Other than the things that required leaving the flat, Lena and I downloaded and watched a lot of movies and just generally tried to save money while still enjoying our time. I introduced her to all sorts of Scottish delicacies (haggis included), and we ate lots of ice cream. A mostly relaxing break, as all breaks should be.
Since she left, I've been sitting in my flat watching V.Mars and various movies. My favorite has been Shoot 'Em Up, which I now consider the perfect movie. It was basically written and directed with exactly me in mind. It's totally creepy, actually, how much of an ideal audience I am for that movie. There are all sorts of little things that I really enjoyed, besides the obvious violence and sex that I am all over in any movie. So yeah, that = what I would make if asked to make a movie.
As mentioned previously, I'm going to the Highlands tomorrow. It's a USC trip, so free everything. Spectacular. We're spending two nights on the Isle of Skye. Other than that, I have no idea what the itinerary is. I also don't care. All I know is that I have to meet the bus at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and then I'll be whisked away to the gorgeous Scottish countryside. Good enough for me.
And now, back to mainlining V.Mars before I leave.
Showing posts with label edinburgh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label edinburgh. Show all posts
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
No idea.
This post is going to be full of nothing. Seriously. It's the point in the semester where I'm falling into a routine, so nothing new has really happened in the past week. That's not entirely true; there are lots of little things and plans that are in the beginning stages. But not the stuff of an epic post, that's for sure.
Mostly I've been trying to figure out what's going to happen this summer, both with me and my baggage. I have a somewhat large suitcase that I don't want to cart around when I go traveling, so I've started looking into what options I have. Those are: excess baggage shipping or short-term storage. There are lots of boring details, but yeah. No decision yet. Shipping is moderately expensive, but it's also less for me to worry about. But that's still in the future, and it's the boring part of planning the summer.
So far, I know that Lena is coming to Scotland for spring break, which will be tons of fun (obvs). I have to look into what day trips are possible from the home base of my flat. There are a lot. Scotland's a good country for staying one place and seeing lots of others.
As far as the summer goes, I have very, very preliminary plans with people to see: Belgium (with Ashley), Sicily (with high school friends), Dijon (sort of a homecoming trip with Ella), Zurich (to visit a friend who's on co-op there, if I can ever get in touch with her), and then Eastern Europe with Lena before Kate arrives for our grand tour. That's a lot of traveling, actually. And I still don't know the actual dates of my finals, so I have to wait and see how this all shakes out. Also, how much money, now that I have a little bit more at my disposal, plus a tax refund.
This weekend was mostly uneventful, really. Thursday was a WOLS (whisky) meeting, with a representative from Glenmorangie. It's a really big distillery here, and the whisky is good, but slightly sweet for my taste. Whisky, like wine, can be fruity, believe it or not. I know, I owe 'SC Winos a whiskey post. I'll get to it eventually.
Friday: I woke up somewhat early to walk over to Princes Street for breakfast. I've been living without a mug for these past 2 months, which means no tea or hot chocolate at home. That wasn't really working for me anymore, and McDonalds is having a "buy a breakfast meal, get a free mug promotion." That's my sort of bargain. So I went to the mall, got money for the week out of the ATM that I use for free thanks to my bank, and got breakfast. I had pancakes, if you're wondering, because I've been craving them. They were actually really good, as they were sort of thin and not super cake-y or anything. It was less than 3 GBP, which is about what I would have paid to just buy a mug on its own somewhere else. I'm all about the bargain. After that, I took a long walk through a part of the city that I haven't really explored much, and then it started raining. It was a nice walk, though. I also got 10 GBP for participating in an international students focus group for the university. That was sweet.
Saturday: I went to dinner with the large group of SC people who were up from London and elsewhere in the UK for the weekend. We then saw Equus, which is an awesome play, though disturbing. And I have seen Lily Allen's little brother naked, for a prolonged period of time. Not too shabby, I must say. After that, we went out on the town, which involved going to a club, deciding the cover was too much, and then taking a taxi somewhere else. The somewhere else was a "club" that was more a multi-level bar. It was kind of cool, and drinks are reasonable if you don't think about the exchange rate (which I've learned not to do), so it was a successful night.
Sunday: church and nothing.
Monday: class. I even went to my 9am lecture. I also went grocery shopping and decided on eggs as my lunch foundation for the week. It's an exciting life I lead, as I've said before.
Um, other news. None. I'm probably going to enter that NYT contest, mostly because Stephanie's entry pisses me off so much. I just need to figure out how to make my sordid sexual history something entertaining and profound. And I have to write 2 2,000 word essays besides that, due March 20th. Basically, 6,000 words in a month, both voluntary and mandatory. Considering the fact that I wrote 20 pages in a night, I think I'm set. I do need to go to the library and make copies of the sources for my papers though. Today or tomorrow's task.
And now, I am going to make eggs and pancetta. Life actually is pretty exciting, from my vantage point.
- C
Now with added links:
(For clarification purposes, as I often forget that all of the pieces of my life aren't actually fully interconnected yet.)
Mostly I've been trying to figure out what's going to happen this summer, both with me and my baggage. I have a somewhat large suitcase that I don't want to cart around when I go traveling, so I've started looking into what options I have. Those are: excess baggage shipping or short-term storage. There are lots of boring details, but yeah. No decision yet. Shipping is moderately expensive, but it's also less for me to worry about. But that's still in the future, and it's the boring part of planning the summer.
So far, I know that Lena is coming to Scotland for spring break, which will be tons of fun (obvs). I have to look into what day trips are possible from the home base of my flat. There are a lot. Scotland's a good country for staying one place and seeing lots of others.
As far as the summer goes, I have very, very preliminary plans with people to see: Belgium (with Ashley), Sicily (with high school friends), Dijon (sort of a homecoming trip with Ella), Zurich (to visit a friend who's on co-op there, if I can ever get in touch with her), and then Eastern Europe with Lena before Kate arrives for our grand tour. That's a lot of traveling, actually. And I still don't know the actual dates of my finals, so I have to wait and see how this all shakes out. Also, how much money, now that I have a little bit more at my disposal, plus a tax refund.
This weekend was mostly uneventful, really. Thursday was a WOLS (whisky) meeting, with a representative from Glenmorangie. It's a really big distillery here, and the whisky is good, but slightly sweet for my taste. Whisky, like wine, can be fruity, believe it or not. I know, I owe 'SC Winos a whiskey post. I'll get to it eventually.
Friday: I woke up somewhat early to walk over to Princes Street for breakfast. I've been living without a mug for these past 2 months, which means no tea or hot chocolate at home. That wasn't really working for me anymore, and McDonalds is having a "buy a breakfast meal, get a free mug promotion." That's my sort of bargain. So I went to the mall, got money for the week out of the ATM that I use for free thanks to my bank, and got breakfast. I had pancakes, if you're wondering, because I've been craving them. They were actually really good, as they were sort of thin and not super cake-y or anything. It was less than 3 GBP, which is about what I would have paid to just buy a mug on its own somewhere else. I'm all about the bargain. After that, I took a long walk through a part of the city that I haven't really explored much, and then it started raining. It was a nice walk, though. I also got 10 GBP for participating in an international students focus group for the university. That was sweet.
Saturday: I went to dinner with the large group of SC people who were up from London and elsewhere in the UK for the weekend. We then saw Equus, which is an awesome play, though disturbing. And I have seen Lily Allen's little brother naked, for a prolonged period of time. Not too shabby, I must say. After that, we went out on the town, which involved going to a club, deciding the cover was too much, and then taking a taxi somewhere else. The somewhere else was a "club" that was more a multi-level bar. It was kind of cool, and drinks are reasonable if you don't think about the exchange rate (which I've learned not to do), so it was a successful night.
Sunday: church and nothing.
Monday: class. I even went to my 9am lecture. I also went grocery shopping and decided on eggs as my lunch foundation for the week. It's an exciting life I lead, as I've said before.
Um, other news. None. I'm probably going to enter that NYT contest, mostly because Stephanie's entry pisses me off so much. I just need to figure out how to make my sordid sexual history something entertaining and profound. And I have to write 2 2,000 word essays besides that, due March 20th. Basically, 6,000 words in a month, both voluntary and mandatory. Considering the fact that I wrote 20 pages in a night, I think I'm set. I do need to go to the library and make copies of the sources for my papers though. Today or tomorrow's task.
And now, I am going to make eggs and pancetta. Life actually is pretty exciting, from my vantage point.
- C
Now with added links:
(For clarification purposes, as I often forget that all of the pieces of my life aren't actually fully interconnected yet.)
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
I might as well be Polish.
Before I get back to the matter at hand, which happens to be the football match, I'd like to express a sudden desire that I have: to go to Poland. Totally random and weird. Mostly, it's because I've rediscovered a love of Polish food, and I think it would be a fascinating place to go. And what led me to this realization was pretzels. In Tesco, I looked high and low for pretzels. British people eat crisps (potato chips) pretty goddamn exclusively. They love LOVE their crisps and have more flavors than I would even know what to do with. Fortunately, I've given up potatoes for Lent (seriously), so I don't have to tackle them yet. Flavors like prawn cocktail and pickled onion and steak. I can't even begin to approach the strangeness of British crisps. But pretzels, yeah. They don't eat them. But, in searching the Tesco, I found some- in the Polish section. What? Are pretzels Polish? I thought they were German. Anyway, I've since fallen in love with the Polish section, because I can also find things like sesame sticks and chocolate covered gingerbread filled with strawberry jelly there. Poles are brilliant. And my love of Polish food isn't completely random, as I had a Polish babysitter when I was really small. This old couple who were the parents of one of my aunt's best friends from high school (complicated, I know) used to watch me, and I loved them, from what I'm told. The old man died before I can really remember, but I saw the woman a lot up until a few years ago, and we all called her Ciocia (Polish for aunt) Helen. She used to make kielbasa and sauerkraut, which was my absolute favorite food for a long time. Unfortunately, no one in my immediate family makes it ever. Maybe I'll teach myself, since she died a few years ago. Also, chruscik (which are sort of cookies, and my favorite ever [I ate a whole box of them when I went home for Christmas]), pierogies, and stuffed cabbage (which isn't only Polish, obvs). We eat a lot of Polish food in my family, I've just realized. Right, so, Poland. Anyone interested? Mainly you, Lena, since that makes the most sense.
Also, I am so grateful for Blogger's auto-save function. Really.
On to the matter at hand, which happens to be the football match on Sunday. I met Glenn outside a bar/restaurant sort of halfway between our apartments (his is off the street that I live on), which he chose. Except I've realized that to get there, he had to walk the opposite way of the way that we actually had to go. His flat is closer to the stadium than our meeting place was. So he walked out of his way to meet me there, which is sort of odd, but it's not like anything here is that far away. We walked to the stadium, which is over in New Town. The walk was super pleasant and sunny, so that was nice. It's adorable how much Glenn misses the sun, and you can sort of tell he's absorbing it whenever it happens to be out. He's one of those people that'll just stand with his eyes closed, face up to the sky. Also creepy how closely I observe. God, whatever. He was in charge of directions, and there was a moment in the middle where he was fake exasperated at the fact that one spot here can have 3 different street signs designating it. It is totes confusing. But we found the stadium without having to do a huge circle like at the British Museum, so points for us. Once we figured out how to buy tickets, and I did that because he didn't have enough cash (I am owed 4 GBP, ensuring that we'll have to hang out again sometime), we went into the stadium. I wish I had taken a picture of the ticket booths, because they're so goddamn shady. Think an amusement park, but with plywood structures to walk through that are barely person sized. And then you have to go through a revolving metal thing, like at the exit to some subways, that is also barely person sized. As Glenn said, "There is no way that somebody who is overweight would get through that." It was basically the hardest thing ever, and I annihilated my heel (not on the foot that hurts now, randomly). Aside: I am referring to this as a stadium, because it is called Easter Road Stadium and holds 17,000 people (hah), but you'd really never know it. Granted, we were on the side that hasn't been redone yet, but still. It is tiny. This is mainly because the Hibs (like the Hearts) are abysmal. Seriously awful.
We got into the stadium and looked at the food stands, and they don't jack up prices at sporting events here like they do in the US. It's thrilling. And as to what foods were available, I saw pizza, chips (w/ or w/o curry, I have no idea), delicious-looking burgers, and meat pies. All of which can be, and is, eaten with brown sauce, the condiment of choice for Brits. I was curious about this brown sauce when I got here, so I bought a bottle. It is A-1. They put steak sauce on pizza. Never will I understand their eating habits.
As for the match itself, awesome. Football matches are incredible, even when you're watching a team as dismal as the Hibs. There were chants, many of which used the word "bastard" (I think one was actually "You're a bastard") and one of which was to the tune of "Lord of the Dance." I couldn't understand the words to most of them, but everybody else sure knew them. There was this guy standing in front of us (because nobody sat in the side of the stands that we were in, the seats were just stood on by people) who was the stereotypical old football hooligan. I have no problem believing that he's stabbed somebody for being a fan of an opposing team. He was terrifying and totally amusing at the same time. Football matches are very much a male pastime, though there were a few women there. No children younger than probably 10 or 11 though. Which, the amount of cursing being taken into account, not surprising. Not really the place for small, impressionable children. The guy sitting next to Glenn, who had no front teeth, was there with his son, and their bonding involved screaming curses at the opposing team/fans. Sweet.
All said and done though, the Hibs won. It was a fairly exciting game, for how poorly they played. Both Glenn and I were yelling, and he hi-fived me after all of the goals ahaha. I love enthusiasm for sports, and he's certainly got that. It's infectious and, again, adorable.
And there you have the football match. I would love to do that again, because it's such a good way to pass the better part of a day.
Other than that, nothing exciting has happened in the last few days. The fire alarm went off at 5am today, so we all had to evacuate and stand outside in the cold, waiting for the firefighters to come. That was thrilling, let me tell you. It only lasted like 15 minutes though, so not too bad. Still, an unpleasant way to be awakened from a deep sleep. I don't know why it went off either, probably someone upstairs burning food or something. And my apartment no longer smells like chemicals, so I'm not going to die from poisoning or anything.
Now, I really have to do my reading for tomorrow. No more procrastination tonight.
- C
Also, I am so grateful for Blogger's auto-save function. Really.
On to the matter at hand, which happens to be the football match on Sunday. I met Glenn outside a bar/restaurant sort of halfway between our apartments (his is off the street that I live on), which he chose. Except I've realized that to get there, he had to walk the opposite way of the way that we actually had to go. His flat is closer to the stadium than our meeting place was. So he walked out of his way to meet me there, which is sort of odd, but it's not like anything here is that far away. We walked to the stadium, which is over in New Town. The walk was super pleasant and sunny, so that was nice. It's adorable how much Glenn misses the sun, and you can sort of tell he's absorbing it whenever it happens to be out. He's one of those people that'll just stand with his eyes closed, face up to the sky. Also creepy how closely I observe. God, whatever. He was in charge of directions, and there was a moment in the middle where he was fake exasperated at the fact that one spot here can have 3 different street signs designating it. It is totes confusing. But we found the stadium without having to do a huge circle like at the British Museum, so points for us. Once we figured out how to buy tickets, and I did that because he didn't have enough cash (I am owed 4 GBP, ensuring that we'll have to hang out again sometime), we went into the stadium. I wish I had taken a picture of the ticket booths, because they're so goddamn shady. Think an amusement park, but with plywood structures to walk through that are barely person sized. And then you have to go through a revolving metal thing, like at the exit to some subways, that is also barely person sized. As Glenn said, "There is no way that somebody who is overweight would get through that." It was basically the hardest thing ever, and I annihilated my heel (not on the foot that hurts now, randomly). Aside: I am referring to this as a stadium, because it is called Easter Road Stadium and holds 17,000 people (hah), but you'd really never know it. Granted, we were on the side that hasn't been redone yet, but still. It is tiny. This is mainly because the Hibs (like the Hearts) are abysmal. Seriously awful.
We got into the stadium and looked at the food stands, and they don't jack up prices at sporting events here like they do in the US. It's thrilling. And as to what foods were available, I saw pizza, chips (w/ or w/o curry, I have no idea), delicious-looking burgers, and meat pies. All of which can be, and is, eaten with brown sauce, the condiment of choice for Brits. I was curious about this brown sauce when I got here, so I bought a bottle. It is A-1. They put steak sauce on pizza. Never will I understand their eating habits.
As for the match itself, awesome. Football matches are incredible, even when you're watching a team as dismal as the Hibs. There were chants, many of which used the word "bastard" (I think one was actually "You're a bastard") and one of which was to the tune of "Lord of the Dance." I couldn't understand the words to most of them, but everybody else sure knew them. There was this guy standing in front of us (because nobody sat in the side of the stands that we were in, the seats were just stood on by people) who was the stereotypical old football hooligan. I have no problem believing that he's stabbed somebody for being a fan of an opposing team. He was terrifying and totally amusing at the same time. Football matches are very much a male pastime, though there were a few women there. No children younger than probably 10 or 11 though. Which, the amount of cursing being taken into account, not surprising. Not really the place for small, impressionable children. The guy sitting next to Glenn, who had no front teeth, was there with his son, and their bonding involved screaming curses at the opposing team/fans. Sweet.
All said and done though, the Hibs won. It was a fairly exciting game, for how poorly they played. Both Glenn and I were yelling, and he hi-fived me after all of the goals ahaha. I love enthusiasm for sports, and he's certainly got that. It's infectious and, again, adorable.
And there you have the football match. I would love to do that again, because it's such a good way to pass the better part of a day.
Other than that, nothing exciting has happened in the last few days. The fire alarm went off at 5am today, so we all had to evacuate and stand outside in the cold, waiting for the firefighters to come. That was thrilling, let me tell you. It only lasted like 15 minutes though, so not too bad. Still, an unpleasant way to be awakened from a deep sleep. I don't know why it went off either, probably someone upstairs burning food or something. And my apartment no longer smells like chemicals, so I'm not going to die from poisoning or anything.
Now, I really have to do my reading for tomorrow. No more procrastination tonight.
- C
Sunday, February 17, 2008
My mother fails.
Not really, but while I'm waiting for her to make her weekly call (I have class at 9am tomorrow, let's hurry this up now), I'll update you people on my life. Granted, I could call her, but it uses like a billion minutes on the phone card that I have. It's cheaper the other way round.
This weekend was both fun and not. Here we go:
Friday night: After updating this, Alice and I decided not to go to the young adults' thing, because it was at somebody's flat and had a high probability of being awkward. Instead, we went pub crawling. The first place we went had a live band playing blusey-rock stuff, with some covers appropriate to that genre (CCR "Fortunate Son", for example). The bar itself was underground and suitably cave-like. Again, appropriate to the type of music that was being played. The next place, we met up with Alice's friend Jenny. This place was a pub, with live folk musicians. Think pub (not the super dark Seven Grand-type), and this should be the type of place that comes to mind. Unfinished wood floors, dark bar and wainscoting, white walls and ceiling, etc. Awesome. Third place was Bannerman's, which is a bar that a lot of students go to, and to which I've been before. There's a back room where they have a place for bands to play, and it's usually punk. So there are also a lot of punks milling about a lot of the time. Basically, I love that place. When that closed at I have no idea, we went to Opium, which, as Glenn told me today (getting to that), bills itself as the "only rock bar in Edinburgh" or something. It's more a club, in my estimation, though the music is generally brilliant. From what I remember. I know that "Arms Race" was played, as well as "Cute Without the E," and, last song of the night, "Don't Stop Believing." And yeah, I danced. With a boy even. Granted, it was more that I was dancing next to a boy who would not leave me the fuck alone and get that I wasn't interested (he kissed me on the cheek when he left. wtf), but still. I've now been clubbing twice since I got here, which makes twice in my entire life. And yes, I was drunk. Obviously. That's a lot of scenery changes.
Saturday: Didn't leave my flat, so I was completely bored and somewhat morose all day. I hate not leaving, but I really just had nowhere to go. I could have gone to the movies or something, but I'd rather go to the movies alone on a weekday. Actually, wait. This is how my Saturday started off. When I got home at 3:30 in the morning or whatever, drunk, I attempted to go to sleep after coherently replying to an email from Kate. What actually happened was, I got into bed, tossed and turned, had the window open because it was too hot. At some point, a huge amount of noise starts up outside. Dudes talking and yelling and shit. The sound of a wheeled trash bin being moved around (think smallish, plastic dumpster). And then my room starts to smell like burning plastic and chemicals. Uh. For fear of being poisoned in my sleep, I got up to shut the window. I vaguely remember seeing a plume of smoke when I did this. Anyway, I still have no idea what the fuck happened, but my room definitely still smelled like chemicals in the morning. And then I woke up at 9:40, because other people outside were being loud, and I just couldn't sleep anymore. So I was tired and vaguely hungover for most of the day, sitting at my desk watching House and Psych reruns, with nobody to talk to. It was an odd, sorta shitty day. And I sent Glenn a Facebook message at like 8pm to figure out what his plans for today's match were, and he hadn't replied by the time that I got to bed. Mostly, yesterday was disappointing.
As Kate and I were talking about, going to a city where we know people/going to grad school with our friends in mind is going to be important to us after SC, because neither one of us ever wants to have to do this whole "making friends" thing again. It's one thing to meet new people, but it's entirely another when it's either make friends or be alone all day, every day. This way is lame. Having at least one person to hang out with at all times is integral, I've learned.
Today: Woke up and went to church. Didn't go to coffee hour (which is a very Episcopal thing wherein the congregation gathers to drink coffee and chat after the service), because the football match was at 3, and I was still hoping beyond hope that Glenn would have responded to my message by this morning. The damn service didn't end until 12:10 as it was, so I hurried home. And lo and behold, I had a Facebook message. Thank fucking God. So after eating lunch and getting quickly changed (I spent a stupid amount of time contemplating my outfit, by the way), Glenn and I met up at 1:15 and walked to the stadium. So yes, I did actually go to the football match with Glenn, thereby making my entire weekend about a million times better. But I think I want to do the match in a separate post, because right now I'm fucking tired and apparently I have to call my mother because she doesn't actually love me.
Goodnight for now. Sorry for the cliffhanger. And Houdini, if you actually still read this, I apologize for being a total girl. I've caught the dumb or something.
- C
This weekend was both fun and not. Here we go:
Friday night: After updating this, Alice and I decided not to go to the young adults' thing, because it was at somebody's flat and had a high probability of being awkward. Instead, we went pub crawling. The first place we went had a live band playing blusey-rock stuff, with some covers appropriate to that genre (CCR "Fortunate Son", for example). The bar itself was underground and suitably cave-like. Again, appropriate to the type of music that was being played. The next place, we met up with Alice's friend Jenny. This place was a pub, with live folk musicians. Think pub (not the super dark Seven Grand-type), and this should be the type of place that comes to mind. Unfinished wood floors, dark bar and wainscoting, white walls and ceiling, etc. Awesome. Third place was Bannerman's, which is a bar that a lot of students go to, and to which I've been before. There's a back room where they have a place for bands to play, and it's usually punk. So there are also a lot of punks milling about a lot of the time. Basically, I love that place. When that closed at I have no idea, we went to Opium, which, as Glenn told me today (getting to that), bills itself as the "only rock bar in Edinburgh" or something. It's more a club, in my estimation, though the music is generally brilliant. From what I remember. I know that "Arms Race" was played, as well as "Cute Without the E," and, last song of the night, "Don't Stop Believing." And yeah, I danced. With a boy even. Granted, it was more that I was dancing next to a boy who would not leave me the fuck alone and get that I wasn't interested (he kissed me on the cheek when he left. wtf), but still. I've now been clubbing twice since I got here, which makes twice in my entire life. And yes, I was drunk. Obviously. That's a lot of scenery changes.
Saturday: Didn't leave my flat, so I was completely bored and somewhat morose all day. I hate not leaving, but I really just had nowhere to go. I could have gone to the movies or something, but I'd rather go to the movies alone on a weekday. Actually, wait. This is how my Saturday started off. When I got home at 3:30 in the morning or whatever, drunk, I attempted to go to sleep after coherently replying to an email from Kate. What actually happened was, I got into bed, tossed and turned, had the window open because it was too hot. At some point, a huge amount of noise starts up outside. Dudes talking and yelling and shit. The sound of a wheeled trash bin being moved around (think smallish, plastic dumpster). And then my room starts to smell like burning plastic and chemicals. Uh. For fear of being poisoned in my sleep, I got up to shut the window. I vaguely remember seeing a plume of smoke when I did this. Anyway, I still have no idea what the fuck happened, but my room definitely still smelled like chemicals in the morning. And then I woke up at 9:40, because other people outside were being loud, and I just couldn't sleep anymore. So I was tired and vaguely hungover for most of the day, sitting at my desk watching House and Psych reruns, with nobody to talk to. It was an odd, sorta shitty day. And I sent Glenn a Facebook message at like 8pm to figure out what his plans for today's match were, and he hadn't replied by the time that I got to bed. Mostly, yesterday was disappointing.
As Kate and I were talking about, going to a city where we know people/going to grad school with our friends in mind is going to be important to us after SC, because neither one of us ever wants to have to do this whole "making friends" thing again. It's one thing to meet new people, but it's entirely another when it's either make friends or be alone all day, every day. This way is lame. Having at least one person to hang out with at all times is integral, I've learned.
Today: Woke up and went to church. Didn't go to coffee hour (which is a very Episcopal thing wherein the congregation gathers to drink coffee and chat after the service), because the football match was at 3, and I was still hoping beyond hope that Glenn would have responded to my message by this morning. The damn service didn't end until 12:10 as it was, so I hurried home. And lo and behold, I had a Facebook message. Thank fucking God. So after eating lunch and getting quickly changed (I spent a stupid amount of time contemplating my outfit, by the way), Glenn and I met up at 1:15 and walked to the stadium. So yes, I did actually go to the football match with Glenn, thereby making my entire weekend about a million times better. But I think I want to do the match in a separate post, because right now I'm fucking tired and apparently I have to call my mother because she doesn't actually love me.
Goodnight for now. Sorry for the cliffhanger. And Houdini, if you actually still read this, I apologize for being a total girl. I've caught the dumb or something.
- C
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Absolutely fantastic.
I've watched every episode of Doctor Who and Torchwood in existence, so now I have to come back to this. Okay, wait, that's not true. I've watched all of the new episodes of Doctor Who. Because actually, that show started in the 60s (?), and there are approximately 30 series. I've seen the entirety of the new series, which are the last 3 seasons. Basically, when the Doctor was played by Christopher Eccleston and then (now) David Tennant (who you may also know as Barty Crouch, Jr., or, alternatively, my new future husband). Shut up, I'm moving on from Heath. And this is why I try not to keep a blog; the world at large becomes audience to my insanity. But really, David Tennant is brilliant, and so is the show. Torchwood is also good, though a bit more melodramatic and weirder (yes, weirder than a show about an alien who travels through time and space in a blue box). Also, the wearing of Chucks with full suits may be the most charming fashion statement ever. But as nobody else is watching either of these shows, I should move on so as not to bore you.
In case you were hoping to hear about my life of late, that's what the first paragraph was. Also, I've discovered that the BBC, like the major American TV stations, has an internet player for already broadcast shows. It's more efficient in that shows are available as soon as they've aired, but you can only watch the shows for a week after they've aired (unless you download them, in which case you have 30 days or a week from when you watch it). It's a very complicated DRM system, but whatever. I can watch the new season of Torchwood on Wednesday nights, and Doctor Who in the spring, and I don't need to buy a TV or a license. Which brings up another point: to own a TV here, you have to buy a TV license. It's about 140 GBP for a color TV and 50 GBP for black and white. So double that to get the price in dollars. You buy the license for a year, and it covers all of the TVs in your household. I have no idea why they do it that way, except that it may or may not help to pay for the BBC stations, which are all publicly funded.
Right, my life. Enough about TV shows. I also do exciting things like go to the library to do readings for class. And go to class, of course. When it isn't canceled. Which has happened, so far, twice, because the professors were sick, and then I didn't have Buddhist Art this week or last because the professor went on a delegation to China. Yeah, my schedule is much easier than yours, probably. But when I was in the library yesterday, I did see some amusing graffiti on the desk at which I was working. British students, and European students in general, are very political. So there were lots of things like:
FUCK THE ENGLISH, REMEMBER BANNOCKBURN
which earned the reply:
no I wasn't born.
And then there was stuff like:
GALICIA IS NOT SPAIN
which I found amusing because we learned all about that in my AP Spanish class in high school.
Of course, there were some nasty things about Americans, one of which involved being able to recognize the American students from a mile away because of their "stupid-ass UCLA caps" (seriously, fuck those guys). But the very best, for a variety of reasons was (Dan, pay attention):
If all economists were laid end to end, they would not reach a conclusion.
Even the graffiti is cleverer here.
Something that may be of marginal interest to people, I realize, is food. I haven't actually talked about what I can and can't get here much, and that's something that always interests me, and maybe other people as well. I mentioned the American chain restaurants here, but besides them, there's a variety of food types and ethnicities represented. Within a two-minute walk from my flat, I can get: Indian (which is the Chinese of the UK), Chinese, vegetarian (which I think is an off-shoot of Indian), Middle-Eastern, African/Mediterranean, Thai, Italian, pub food, sandwiches, and whatever I want from the 4 grocery stores on my block or the next. Also, there are a variety of uncategorizable cafes and coffee shops and little restaurants, and some place called Elephants and Bagels. I find that place intriguing. There are also tiny ethnic groceries in the same area, as you would expect. And, my personal favorite so far, Greggs. In the simplest terms, it's a bakery/sandwich shop. However, it's better than that, because 1) it's damn cheap and 2) they have savories, which are a variety of (as the name implies) savory things wrapped in pastries. Delicious pastries. For less than 2 GBP, I can get a really filling lunch, with dessert.
If I leave the immediate area around my flat, I can find anything else, I think. I've seen an American style place with burgers/pizzas/salads, though done in an expensive, take advantage of tourists way. I've seen multiple Mexican places, a tapas bar, lots of take-away places with things like falafel/kebabs/fish and chips, and even a Nepalese restaurant. I'm particularly intrigued by that one. Plenty of new things for me to try while I'm here.
As for grocery stores, I can basically buy the same stuff as you'd get in the US, except better quality. Like most places in Europe, Scotland (and the UK) is big on homegrown things whenever possible. So there's a large variety of local meats and cheeses, and fruits and vegetables also to some extent. What I really enjoy are all of the different flavors of things. Juices here are phenomenal. They mix things that we'd never even think of in the US, often involving apples. I love apple juice when it isn't too sweet, which tends to be the problem with the available types in the US. Here, they treat apples sort of like we treat cranberries, for lack of a better comparison, and basically I'm in juice heaven. Apple/elderflower is my favorite so far, but apple/raspberry and apple/mango are also delicious. I'm going to miss the variety when it's time to leave.
Also, ridiculous weather. Today, it was raining early in the morning. Then, it stopped raining and was overcast. Then, it started snowing, like full-on blizzard-style. When I left for class at 10:45, it was sunny. When I left class at 1, it was getting overcast again. When I left for my other class at 1:45, it was overcast. Leaving that class at 2:50, I walked out into a blizzard (and to understand that, imagine the huge, fluffy kind of snowflakes that turn you into a snowman because they stick and 30mph gusts of wind [they're rarely more than 5mph in LA]). It did that for about 2 hours, and then it stopped and got overcast again. The best thing about the weather is the wind. It's awesome to be in the library, or indoors anywhere, and hear it whipping around outside. The snow was also spectacular, as I haven't seen real snow in a few years now. I've missed it.
I think the theme of this post is: variety is the spice of life. I'm thinking that it's impossible to ever really get tired of a place where so much is available and so much is different from hour to hour. Not in the few months that I have here, anyway.
My life is thrilling, obviously. You guys should definitely aspire to be me. That's all.
- C
In case you were hoping to hear about my life of late, that's what the first paragraph was. Also, I've discovered that the BBC, like the major American TV stations, has an internet player for already broadcast shows. It's more efficient in that shows are available as soon as they've aired, but you can only watch the shows for a week after they've aired (unless you download them, in which case you have 30 days or a week from when you watch it). It's a very complicated DRM system, but whatever. I can watch the new season of Torchwood on Wednesday nights, and Doctor Who in the spring, and I don't need to buy a TV or a license. Which brings up another point: to own a TV here, you have to buy a TV license. It's about 140 GBP for a color TV and 50 GBP for black and white. So double that to get the price in dollars. You buy the license for a year, and it covers all of the TVs in your household. I have no idea why they do it that way, except that it may or may not help to pay for the BBC stations, which are all publicly funded.
Right, my life. Enough about TV shows. I also do exciting things like go to the library to do readings for class. And go to class, of course. When it isn't canceled. Which has happened, so far, twice, because the professors were sick, and then I didn't have Buddhist Art this week or last because the professor went on a delegation to China. Yeah, my schedule is much easier than yours, probably. But when I was in the library yesterday, I did see some amusing graffiti on the desk at which I was working. British students, and European students in general, are very political. So there were lots of things like:
FUCK THE ENGLISH, REMEMBER BANNOCKBURN
which earned the reply:
no I wasn't born.
And then there was stuff like:
GALICIA IS NOT SPAIN
which I found amusing because we learned all about that in my AP Spanish class in high school.
Of course, there were some nasty things about Americans, one of which involved being able to recognize the American students from a mile away because of their "stupid-ass UCLA caps" (seriously, fuck those guys). But the very best, for a variety of reasons was (Dan, pay attention):
If all economists were laid end to end, they would not reach a conclusion.
Even the graffiti is cleverer here.
Something that may be of marginal interest to people, I realize, is food. I haven't actually talked about what I can and can't get here much, and that's something that always interests me, and maybe other people as well. I mentioned the American chain restaurants here, but besides them, there's a variety of food types and ethnicities represented. Within a two-minute walk from my flat, I can get: Indian (which is the Chinese of the UK), Chinese, vegetarian (which I think is an off-shoot of Indian), Middle-Eastern, African/Mediterranean, Thai, Italian, pub food, sandwiches, and whatever I want from the 4 grocery stores on my block or the next. Also, there are a variety of uncategorizable cafes and coffee shops and little restaurants, and some place called Elephants and Bagels. I find that place intriguing. There are also tiny ethnic groceries in the same area, as you would expect. And, my personal favorite so far, Greggs. In the simplest terms, it's a bakery/sandwich shop. However, it's better than that, because 1) it's damn cheap and 2) they have savories, which are a variety of (as the name implies) savory things wrapped in pastries. Delicious pastries. For less than 2 GBP, I can get a really filling lunch, with dessert.
If I leave the immediate area around my flat, I can find anything else, I think. I've seen an American style place with burgers/pizzas/salads, though done in an expensive, take advantage of tourists way. I've seen multiple Mexican places, a tapas bar, lots of take-away places with things like falafel/kebabs/fish and chips, and even a Nepalese restaurant. I'm particularly intrigued by that one. Plenty of new things for me to try while I'm here.
As for grocery stores, I can basically buy the same stuff as you'd get in the US, except better quality. Like most places in Europe, Scotland (and the UK) is big on homegrown things whenever possible. So there's a large variety of local meats and cheeses, and fruits and vegetables also to some extent. What I really enjoy are all of the different flavors of things. Juices here are phenomenal. They mix things that we'd never even think of in the US, often involving apples. I love apple juice when it isn't too sweet, which tends to be the problem with the available types in the US. Here, they treat apples sort of like we treat cranberries, for lack of a better comparison, and basically I'm in juice heaven. Apple/elderflower is my favorite so far, but apple/raspberry and apple/mango are also delicious. I'm going to miss the variety when it's time to leave.
Also, ridiculous weather. Today, it was raining early in the morning. Then, it stopped raining and was overcast. Then, it started snowing, like full-on blizzard-style. When I left for class at 10:45, it was sunny. When I left class at 1, it was getting overcast again. When I left for my other class at 1:45, it was overcast. Leaving that class at 2:50, I walked out into a blizzard (and to understand that, imagine the huge, fluffy kind of snowflakes that turn you into a snowman because they stick and 30mph gusts of wind [they're rarely more than 5mph in LA]). It did that for about 2 hours, and then it stopped and got overcast again. The best thing about the weather is the wind. It's awesome to be in the library, or indoors anywhere, and hear it whipping around outside. The snow was also spectacular, as I haven't seen real snow in a few years now. I've missed it.
I think the theme of this post is: variety is the spice of life. I'm thinking that it's impossible to ever really get tired of a place where so much is available and so much is different from hour to hour. Not in the few months that I have here, anyway.
My life is thrilling, obviously. You guys should definitely aspire to be me. That's all.
- C
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Getting out and doing shit.
The last few days have been incredibly active, as far as me actually going out and doing stuff goes. You'd all be so proud. No riots or anything though, I leave that to you. I'll do a rundown of this by day, so we'll see what I can remember:
Thursday: I went to class etc etc. That night, I went to the first meeting of the Water of Life Society for this semester. That's the university whiskey (Scottish spelling: whisky) appreciation society, for those that I haven't mentioned it to yet. It was incredibly fun and extremely informative. I met a couple of other American students, so it didn't end up just being me, awkwardly sitting by myself. That was cool. We tried 5 different whiskeys, of varying types (though all Scotch) and got information about each of them. So I've tried 7 different whiskeys since getting here, though damned if I remember all of their names. Not too shabby. After the meeting, I tagged along to a bar and then a night club with the other Americans. They're with one of the big, multi-school study abroad programs, so it ended up being a fairly large group of people. Completely different than the USC abroad experience.
Friday: Went grocery shopping, as I was out of everything. That night was a Burns Night supper/ceilidh at the church I've started going to. Tremendous amount of fun. I tried haggis for the first time; it's actually quite good. All of the traditions and trappings that go along with Burns Night are also something incredible to behold. It's a meal where there's never a dull moment. I'm tempted to have my own version next year, but I don't know how successful I'd be at getting people to try haggis. I'll have to discuss this with Kate later. The dancing would also be a problem, as I don't know any Scottish dances. Though, I did do a few last night. No lie, I danced. With a lot more practice, I could be a pretty decent Scottish dancer I think. It wasn't at all hard once I got the hang of it. Though I guess it does help that the person that I was mostly dancing with was spectacularly good. After that, which ended at like 11:15, I went back to the Scottish economist's flat for Mah Jong and whiskey. And ended up staying there until 3am, just like last time. It's becoming a weekend habit. I'll be a Mah Jong master by the time I get home.
Today: I woke up at 10, which was disturbingly early for the time that I actually went to bed, and took a trip out to Rosslyn Chapel with the girl that I met from USC. It's about a 45 minute ride on a public bus from here, so no big hassle to get to at all. It was absolutely incredible. The chapel and the surrounding hills and valleys are just gorgeous. And it's made about 100x cooler by the fact that my dad's a Freemason (yeah, yeah secret society shut up), so I know a lot of the lore and symbolism involved in the carvings and the chapel itself. It's somewhere that I've wanted to go for a long, long time. After that, we had lunch in this adorable hotel right near the castle, and it was delicious and warm. The warm aspect of food is incredibly important with the normal weather here. Then, I came home, watched four or five more episodes of the new Doctor Who (totally addicted) and did laundry. Now, I think I might call home.
Also, if anyone's wondering why I don't really talk about feelings in this blog (not that you would be, but might as well address it), it's because it's so easy to find, really. Like, I have no problem talking about my general impressions of stuff, mostly how I'm feeling, etc., but mostly I'm focused on what I've actually, physically been doing. I don't want to talk about the crazy boring emotional stuff in a blog that's so out in the open, on my facebook profile and all. Also, I was going to give this address to my parents, so they could keep track of me. I haven't, for various reasons (like you guys making references to my reputation as a drunken slut etc) [kidding], but that kept me from actually treating this like my other blog as well. I have this thing where I only put on a brave face for them, regardless of how I'm actually feeling. It's dumb, as they're my family, and they, more than anybody else, should get to know when I'm terrified/lonely/homesick/falling apart or whatever, but that's not how I operate. I think crying in front of my dad when I realized that I wasn't going to be able to make the situation with my visa work was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in recent memory. And yes, I mean that, despite whatever else may have happened within the space of this last semester. I have serious problems, I know.
Now that I've broken the "no feelings" rule (aside: however the previous may make it sound, I am completely and totally content, I love this place and these people), let's move on to Heath Ledger. I am totally heart-broken about his death. I was going to marry him, somehow. Not even lying. I had a total delusion about that. It would have been one of my 3 wishes if I ever came across a genie. And his death was sort of like the death of my childhood, in one of those stupid, symbolic ways. But yeah, that's neither here nor there. But I do really appreciate the eulogy that Joel McHale of The Soup said for Heath, so I think I'll end this post with that. Something reasonable, one good guy talking about another:
True class.
- C
Thursday: I went to class etc etc. That night, I went to the first meeting of the Water of Life Society for this semester. That's the university whiskey (Scottish spelling: whisky) appreciation society, for those that I haven't mentioned it to yet. It was incredibly fun and extremely informative. I met a couple of other American students, so it didn't end up just being me, awkwardly sitting by myself. That was cool. We tried 5 different whiskeys, of varying types (though all Scotch) and got information about each of them. So I've tried 7 different whiskeys since getting here, though damned if I remember all of their names. Not too shabby. After the meeting, I tagged along to a bar and then a night club with the other Americans. They're with one of the big, multi-school study abroad programs, so it ended up being a fairly large group of people. Completely different than the USC abroad experience.
Friday: Went grocery shopping, as I was out of everything. That night was a Burns Night supper/ceilidh at the church I've started going to. Tremendous amount of fun. I tried haggis for the first time; it's actually quite good. All of the traditions and trappings that go along with Burns Night are also something incredible to behold. It's a meal where there's never a dull moment. I'm tempted to have my own version next year, but I don't know how successful I'd be at getting people to try haggis. I'll have to discuss this with Kate later. The dancing would also be a problem, as I don't know any Scottish dances. Though, I did do a few last night. No lie, I danced. With a lot more practice, I could be a pretty decent Scottish dancer I think. It wasn't at all hard once I got the hang of it. Though I guess it does help that the person that I was mostly dancing with was spectacularly good. After that, which ended at like 11:15, I went back to the Scottish economist's flat for Mah Jong and whiskey. And ended up staying there until 3am, just like last time. It's becoming a weekend habit. I'll be a Mah Jong master by the time I get home.
Today: I woke up at 10, which was disturbingly early for the time that I actually went to bed, and took a trip out to Rosslyn Chapel with the girl that I met from USC. It's about a 45 minute ride on a public bus from here, so no big hassle to get to at all. It was absolutely incredible. The chapel and the surrounding hills and valleys are just gorgeous. And it's made about 100x cooler by the fact that my dad's a Freemason (yeah, yeah secret society shut up), so I know a lot of the lore and symbolism involved in the carvings and the chapel itself. It's somewhere that I've wanted to go for a long, long time. After that, we had lunch in this adorable hotel right near the castle, and it was delicious and warm. The warm aspect of food is incredibly important with the normal weather here. Then, I came home, watched four or five more episodes of the new Doctor Who (totally addicted) and did laundry. Now, I think I might call home.
Also, if anyone's wondering why I don't really talk about feelings in this blog (not that you would be, but might as well address it), it's because it's so easy to find, really. Like, I have no problem talking about my general impressions of stuff, mostly how I'm feeling, etc., but mostly I'm focused on what I've actually, physically been doing. I don't want to talk about the crazy boring emotional stuff in a blog that's so out in the open, on my facebook profile and all. Also, I was going to give this address to my parents, so they could keep track of me. I haven't, for various reasons (like you guys making references to my reputation as a drunken slut etc) [kidding], but that kept me from actually treating this like my other blog as well. I have this thing where I only put on a brave face for them, regardless of how I'm actually feeling. It's dumb, as they're my family, and they, more than anybody else, should get to know when I'm terrified/lonely/homesick/falling apart or whatever, but that's not how I operate. I think crying in front of my dad when I realized that I wasn't going to be able to make the situation with my visa work was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in recent memory. And yes, I mean that, despite whatever else may have happened within the space of this last semester. I have serious problems, I know.
Now that I've broken the "no feelings" rule (aside: however the previous may make it sound, I am completely and totally content, I love this place and these people), let's move on to Heath Ledger. I am totally heart-broken about his death. I was going to marry him, somehow. Not even lying. I had a total delusion about that. It would have been one of my 3 wishes if I ever came across a genie. And his death was sort of like the death of my childhood, in one of those stupid, symbolic ways. But yeah, that's neither here nor there. But I do really appreciate the eulogy that Joel McHale of The Soup said for Heath, so I think I'll end this post with that. Something reasonable, one good guy talking about another:
True class.
- C
Friday, January 11, 2008
Now with internet.
I could wait and do this post on Sunday when I have nothing to do, but I'll probably forget stuff and have enough for another post then anyway. So I'll just do the big "first few days" post now. Get yourself a snack or something, this'll probably be long.
I left my house at 1:45pm on Tuesday, in order to make it to Newark for my 6:55pm flight. Newark is about the same distance from my house as NYC, minus the Lincoln Tunnel traffic, so I got there about 3 hours before takeoff. Yeah, awesome. My mom and dad both went to drop me off, and they were both crying when we said goodbye. It was terrible. I tear up thinking about it. Shut up, I'll bet a million dollars you've never seen me cry (unless we've watched Rome or certain movies together), and I've done it more in the last few days than in the last 20 years combined. I have a reputation to uphold. Anyway, I got to the airport, got through security in record time even with an "extra security check." Yes, I was chosen by the airline to get frisked. Whatever, I'm so threatening, I know. Then I sat at the gate and called people/read for 2 hours, until the plane started boarding. I have exactly $7 in American currency, so I didn't buy any food or anything. My grandmom had given me a bag with two chocolate covered pretzels, two or three packages of peanut butter crackers, and four Twizzlers, so I was obvs covered for days.
I got on the plane, sat in my window seat, and tried really hard to fall asleep. The plane left an hour later than it was supposed to, but the flight to London from Newark is slightly less than 6 hours, not the 7 that I was expecting. That was a nice surprise. Also, because it was a Continental flight going overseas, there were TVs in all the seat backs, with lots of movies and games and TV shows etc. That was entertaining for awhile. But yeah, I was completely unable to fall asleep, which sucked, because I lost 5 hours on that flight and got into London at 6:30am. In case you're wondering, I watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and most of Swingers while in transit. Skinny Vince Vaughn is terrifying. For dinner, I had some beef with noodles nonsense and salad and a roll. Breakfast (these two meals were served like 4 hours apart) was a fruit salad and a croissant, of which I ate half. That stuff doesn't really matter, except it's basically all that was sustaining me for the next 2 days.
Landed in London, got through immigration, reclaimed my bags. My flight from London to Edinburgh was a 10:30am flight, so I had some time to kill. How you're supposed to kill time in the entry area of an airport, I have no idea. Even if that airport is Gatwick, which is a ridiculous place. Fortunately, check-in for my flight started early, so I checked my bags (after paying $72 more because my bags were over the 45lb. weight allowance) and got my boarding pass. I then proceeded to sit in this weird limbo area for people on flights without gate assignments for forever. I was looking at all of the duty free shops (one of which was entirely devoted to whiskey!!) and being generally bored and dazed. Finally, a little TV told me to go to gate 1, so I did. Mostly that day was like wtf am i doing. Written exactly like that in my head.
The flight to Edinburgh was uneventful, mostly, except we had to go out on the tarmac and climb those rolling stairs to board the plane. That was exciting. It was a short flight, and I got the one hour of sleep that I had since Monday night. Reached Edinburgh, where it was damn windy, as I could tell because the plane was blowing around. I had a list of things that I had to accomplish that day, number 1 being "get keys to flat." The plane landed at noon, all of the things that I had to do would be impossible after either 4 or 5:00, depending. Okay, totally doable. Took my bags, got a taxi. The driver was young and cute and looked like Billy Boyd. Also, he called me "love," and, had he asked, I would have married him right off. It didn't take long, folks. I tried to be charming, despite my lack of sleep induced retardation. Went to the main residence halls, where I had to fill out paperwork, assure them that USC would be paying for my rent, etc etc. Finally got my keys and had to pay another taxi (this driver female and not as charming, though cheerful) to take me to my flat. Found the front door, after some questionable moments, through an archway that also happens to be the hangout for the local hooligans and right behind a mini-Tesco. Figured out which of my four keys was for which door. Couldn't get the door to my bedroom open, scared my flatmate by trying her door. Found out that she is Russian and named Marina. Got the key for my door to work, dropped off my stuff, asked Marina for directions to the main square of campus, headed out. It was lightly raining/snowing this day. Found the office of my Director of Studies, who is basically my academic adviser. Officially registered for classes and then went to the Registry to handle more paperwork. I also went to the art history office to pick up some stuff and get contact info/class locations/whatnot. At some point in those hours I ate a packet of peanut butter crackers as lunch.
All that taken care of, I needed to handle buying stuff for my flat. Namely, sheets, towel, pillow etc. Basically, the things that I would need to sleep and shower, because those were the foremost things on my mind. I wandered down my street to a store called Edinburgh Bargain, which seemed promising. Got the stuff I needed, though it required two trips. I also started the set-up of my internet at this point, because it is an involved process requiring the registration of your computer and whatnot. I bought an Ethernet cable and an adapter for my laptop plug, because I hadn't thought about doing that before. I unpacked my stuff. By this time, it was 6pm, and I just wanted to go to bed. So I did. Marina woke me up at 10pm to see if I wanted some of the soup that she made for dinner, which was really nice, but no. I ended up sleeping until 11am. At that point, I woke up and showered, and then I went to the library to find a computer. I should note, all of the door handles are the same in the library, whether you have to push or pull. Of course, I end up looking like an idiot every time that I have to use them. Still. I also went to the Re-Freshers Fair, which is the student activity fair, to see if there were any societies that I wanted to join. This being me, the answer was no. Insert the last packet of peanut butter crackers at this point. It was actually snowing, which was awesome. However, it was also raining, which meant that I was really just wet and cold. Hooray for "winter mix." I attempted to find the class and, as I said before, failed. So I went back to the library and waited for my 4pm tutorial (which is a discussion section). I knew for sure where that was supposed to be, since I had gone to the art history office the day before.
That went well. I'll talk about classes in a later entry, since I haven't had most of them, and it's just way too much for this novel. I went home and stopped at the Tesco to buy cereal, milk, juice, and water. After that, there was a welcome dinner for the USC study abroad group here at an Indian restaurant. Free food woo! A ton of food, actually, making it the best meal I'd ever eaten. Haha, mostly because it was my first meal in two days. And there was wine, which made me tipsy and conversational after one glass. Met some people, which was nice. After that, we went to this tiny pub called Bannerman's, which had Strongbow cider on tap. Again, free. So I went home, passed the hooligans outside of my front door smoking pot, attempted to call my parents (who weren't home) and then took two hours to fall asleep.
Today, I set my alarm for 11am, just because it can't be healthy to sleep as much as I have been for the last week. I actually woke up at 12:45. It's really hard to get yourself out of bed when the sun never comes out. I ate a lunch of cereal and juice, which was 20 times better than peanut butter crackers. I went to the library and sat on the computer for 3 hours. I then returned home and had dinner with another girl from the program. We walked to the city center and ate at a pub; I had pork sausage and mash and Guinness
Tomorrow, we are going to Edinburgh Castle. So excited. I will take pictures.
I know this entry is mostly boring, but it's all just logistical stuff. I'll get into actual impressions of the city and the people and post pictures later, probably tomorrow night or Sunday.
But here, have a picture of my bedroom:
Yes, my blanket is pink. My top sheet is purple, and the bottom one is teal. My pillowcase is tan. I grabbed what was cheap. I also have an armoire and a bookshelf that I keep all of my clothes on, which happen to be on the side of the room that you can't see.
Okay, I'm going to bed. I have shit to do tomorrow.
- C
I left my house at 1:45pm on Tuesday, in order to make it to Newark for my 6:55pm flight. Newark is about the same distance from my house as NYC, minus the Lincoln Tunnel traffic, so I got there about 3 hours before takeoff. Yeah, awesome. My mom and dad both went to drop me off, and they were both crying when we said goodbye. It was terrible. I tear up thinking about it. Shut up, I'll bet a million dollars you've never seen me cry (unless we've watched Rome or certain movies together), and I've done it more in the last few days than in the last 20 years combined. I have a reputation to uphold. Anyway, I got to the airport, got through security in record time even with an "extra security check." Yes, I was chosen by the airline to get frisked. Whatever, I'm so threatening, I know. Then I sat at the gate and called people/read for 2 hours, until the plane started boarding. I have exactly $7 in American currency, so I didn't buy any food or anything. My grandmom had given me a bag with two chocolate covered pretzels, two or three packages of peanut butter crackers, and four Twizzlers, so I was obvs covered for days.
I got on the plane, sat in my window seat, and tried really hard to fall asleep. The plane left an hour later than it was supposed to, but the flight to London from Newark is slightly less than 6 hours, not the 7 that I was expecting. That was a nice surprise. Also, because it was a Continental flight going overseas, there were TVs in all the seat backs, with lots of movies and games and TV shows etc. That was entertaining for awhile. But yeah, I was completely unable to fall asleep, which sucked, because I lost 5 hours on that flight and got into London at 6:30am. In case you're wondering, I watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and most of Swingers while in transit. Skinny Vince Vaughn is terrifying. For dinner, I had some beef with noodles nonsense and salad and a roll. Breakfast (these two meals were served like 4 hours apart) was a fruit salad and a croissant, of which I ate half. That stuff doesn't really matter, except it's basically all that was sustaining me for the next 2 days.
Landed in London, got through immigration, reclaimed my bags. My flight from London to Edinburgh was a 10:30am flight, so I had some time to kill. How you're supposed to kill time in the entry area of an airport, I have no idea. Even if that airport is Gatwick, which is a ridiculous place. Fortunately, check-in for my flight started early, so I checked my bags (after paying $72 more because my bags were over the 45lb. weight allowance) and got my boarding pass. I then proceeded to sit in this weird limbo area for people on flights without gate assignments for forever. I was looking at all of the duty free shops (one of which was entirely devoted to whiskey!!) and being generally bored and dazed. Finally, a little TV told me to go to gate 1, so I did. Mostly that day was like wtf am i doing. Written exactly like that in my head.
The flight to Edinburgh was uneventful, mostly, except we had to go out on the tarmac and climb those rolling stairs to board the plane. That was exciting. It was a short flight, and I got the one hour of sleep that I had since Monday night. Reached Edinburgh, where it was damn windy, as I could tell because the plane was blowing around. I had a list of things that I had to accomplish that day, number 1 being "get keys to flat." The plane landed at noon, all of the things that I had to do would be impossible after either 4 or 5:00, depending. Okay, totally doable. Took my bags, got a taxi. The driver was young and cute and looked like Billy Boyd. Also, he called me "love," and, had he asked, I would have married him right off. It didn't take long, folks. I tried to be charming, despite my lack of sleep induced retardation. Went to the main residence halls, where I had to fill out paperwork, assure them that USC would be paying for my rent, etc etc. Finally got my keys and had to pay another taxi (this driver female and not as charming, though cheerful) to take me to my flat. Found the front door, after some questionable moments, through an archway that also happens to be the hangout for the local hooligans and right behind a mini-Tesco. Figured out which of my four keys was for which door. Couldn't get the door to my bedroom open, scared my flatmate by trying her door. Found out that she is Russian and named Marina. Got the key for my door to work, dropped off my stuff, asked Marina for directions to the main square of campus, headed out. It was lightly raining/snowing this day. Found the office of my Director of Studies, who is basically my academic adviser. Officially registered for classes and then went to the Registry to handle more paperwork. I also went to the art history office to pick up some stuff and get contact info/class locations/whatnot. At some point in those hours I ate a packet of peanut butter crackers as lunch.
All that taken care of, I needed to handle buying stuff for my flat. Namely, sheets, towel, pillow etc. Basically, the things that I would need to sleep and shower, because those were the foremost things on my mind. I wandered down my street to a store called Edinburgh Bargain, which seemed promising. Got the stuff I needed, though it required two trips. I also started the set-up of my internet at this point, because it is an involved process requiring the registration of your computer and whatnot. I bought an Ethernet cable and an adapter for my laptop plug, because I hadn't thought about doing that before. I unpacked my stuff. By this time, it was 6pm, and I just wanted to go to bed. So I did. Marina woke me up at 10pm to see if I wanted some of the soup that she made for dinner, which was really nice, but no. I ended up sleeping until 11am. At that point, I woke up and showered, and then I went to the library to find a computer. I should note, all of the door handles are the same in the library, whether you have to push or pull. Of course, I end up looking like an idiot every time that I have to use them. Still. I also went to the Re-Freshers Fair, which is the student activity fair, to see if there were any societies that I wanted to join. This being me, the answer was no. Insert the last packet of peanut butter crackers at this point. It was actually snowing, which was awesome. However, it was also raining, which meant that I was really just wet and cold. Hooray for "winter mix." I attempted to find the class and, as I said before, failed. So I went back to the library and waited for my 4pm tutorial (which is a discussion section). I knew for sure where that was supposed to be, since I had gone to the art history office the day before.
That went well. I'll talk about classes in a later entry, since I haven't had most of them, and it's just way too much for this novel. I went home and stopped at the Tesco to buy cereal, milk, juice, and water. After that, there was a welcome dinner for the USC study abroad group here at an Indian restaurant. Free food woo! A ton of food, actually, making it the best meal I'd ever eaten. Haha, mostly because it was my first meal in two days. And there was wine, which made me tipsy and conversational after one glass. Met some people, which was nice. After that, we went to this tiny pub called Bannerman's, which had Strongbow cider on tap. Again, free. So I went home, passed the hooligans outside of my front door smoking pot, attempted to call my parents (who weren't home) and then took two hours to fall asleep.
Today, I set my alarm for 11am, just because it can't be healthy to sleep as much as I have been for the last week. I actually woke up at 12:45. It's really hard to get yourself out of bed when the sun never comes out. I ate a lunch of cereal and juice, which was 20 times better than peanut butter crackers. I went to the library and sat on the computer for 3 hours. I then returned home and had dinner with another girl from the program. We walked to the city center and ate at a pub; I had pork sausage and mash and Guinness
Tomorrow, we are going to Edinburgh Castle. So excited. I will take pictures.
I know this entry is mostly boring, but it's all just logistical stuff. I'll get into actual impressions of the city and the people and post pictures later, probably tomorrow night or Sunday.
But here, have a picture of my bedroom:
Yes, my blanket is pink. My top sheet is purple, and the bottom one is teal. My pillowcase is tan. I grabbed what was cheap. I also have an armoire and a bookshelf that I keep all of my clothes on, which happen to be on the side of the room that you can't see.
Okay, I'm going to bed. I have shit to do tomorrow.
- C
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