Day 89: Obligatory Procrastination Post

But this time it's real, fellas. Like, I have no idea how to start this assignment or how to finish it before I leave early Wednesday morning. I'm not stressing though.
Sometimes I wonder if a little more stress in my life would be a good thing. But then immediately I'm like, Pah! Hakuna Matata.

I leave for London in two days time. This is marvelous. I shall see Michelle Salvato, my VB homegirl, in the city, party hard, then be off the next morn' to enter the City of Love, Roma, where Zach has told me about a rampant population of pick-pockets and "bag-slashers," my mom has warned me of "aggressive Italian men" who apparently have odd mindsets about American women, and I've also had several of my friends comment in regards to possible heinous occurrences, as referenced from the movie, Hostel, which I am glad I haven't seen.

All in all, I'm super excited.
All in all, life is good.
All in all, if I fail out of this Master's program, the only people that will care are my gracious parents. Just kidding, parents, I won't fail.

But really. What is this degree in Information and Library Studies worth if not further assurance that the world is my card catalog(ue) and I am the catalog(u)er, and I am choosing the classification scheme, and THERE SHALL BE NO facets or coherent shelving order, because I'm also the user and it's more fun to find my stories and adventures at random, and Dewey nor the UDC-police can stop me because my classmarks make NO SENSE, and a transition from print to digital is unnecessary here because my collection is only available to those who make the effort to be with the physical books, so MARC can remain, because he's always been a nice guy, and I think XML is just a bit too big-headed, WHY ELSE would he think he can make the word "extensible" begin with an "X"? So boom, library world, come join me in my labyrinth of unpopular and outdated ideas, because I'm bringin' em to the future, and if that's not irony then students don't suck at seeking information.
You can read that as metaphorically or literally as you wish. Or just not read it. Or think about it ever again.

Hakuna Matata

FOUND (old post): 27 Days?

Oh no, oh no no no no no.
Summer? Don't leave. Yes, yes, I know, Mary Washington, this year is going to be great, with great roommates, a great new apartment, and all that great college independence and fun, buttttt I don't want to leave summer yet.

I have less than a month, and still so much I want to do.
Life's been sick. Literally just beach and work.
Tomorrow morning I leave for Kill Devil Hills for a week and it's going to be glory.


(As I was searching for posts that seem to have gone missing from this summer's bike trip, I found this little guy in my drafts. It's from summer 2010, before my sophomore year! Haha, thought I would post it since it never made it to the limelight. Even though it really doesn't say anything of importance, it's funny to read from over two years ago. I do still love summer and the beach and I still don't want time to leave. And the Outer Banks is always one of the best times of the year. I can't believe how much has happened since this post though. I've had two summers --one pretty much the same as the one I was wrapping up when I wrote this post--, had my first boyfriend, gone back to life with no relationship, torn my ACL for the second time, done two more years at Mary Wash, graduated from Mary Wash, ridden my bike across the US of A, moved to Scotland, started grad school, and so much in between.)

Day 84: If I Could Be

Anyone but me (I would be someone who isn't writing a blog post at 1 am while I am supposed to be staying up in order to complete some coursework), but really, it would probably have to come down to a tie between Maria from the Sound of Music, Scarlett O'Hara, Jane Eyre, and Pocahontas (Disney's rendition).

The desirable qualities:
The voice, personality, talents, faith, and situations of Maria are obviously all I could ever want--she (Julie Andrews and Maria are kinda intertwined for me) has the most beautiful voice ever, she's bold, she rocks the short hair (a trait I can only admire), she dances and plays musical instruments, straight about to be a nun because she wanted to give her life to Jesus but obviously she wasn't meant for the convent, annnnnd she ends up with her perfect man(the Captain could be anyone's perfect man, though, eh? Oy) even after she thought she lost him fo'eva.

The Southern charm, the undeniable beauty, the intense will, and the strength to survive through the worst of times define Scarlett O'Hara. However, her stubborn nature causes heartbreak for her in the end, which you can't help but feel sorry for, even if she put it completely upon herself (why didn't you just appreciate the love Rhett wanted to give you?!) A strong, southern woman is something you can't help but embrace though.

Jane Eyre is just the best character; she is so very independent, she is smart, she uses her words so perfectly and prudently, and though she is plain, her beauty shines through to the only man she will love, and she is too humble to realize he loves her (ugh it's just the best story). Honestly while reading it I kept seeing myself in Jane, and others have said so, too, but I think its mostly that I just wish I were her. The biggest contrast is my lack of ability to hold my tongue when it would be best to say nothing.

And Pocahontas just has the best, flowingest, long hair and runs so perfectly down those hills with her bare feet and tumbles through sunflowers like it's her job and has a little raccoon and hummingbird and talking tree to consult, and she looks bad ass with the upper arm tribal tat. (yeah this one is purely surface level, but whatever)


Guys, I'm so happy about Advent. Baby Jesus is coming, and I get to greet his arrival while in Rome with my favorite siblings. This time of year is just so joyful in so many ways, and though it doesn't feel the same living alone and being in Scotland and not smelling my mom's baking, there is still so much good. Ultimately, it rocks because even when the world and my surroundings leave me feeling alone or empty, I can become even more full, a fullness unreachable with the world even on the most worldly-fulfilling day, through the love of a God become man in that little manger under that bright star in that little town in a country far away all those hundreds of years ago.
Marinatha!

(Sidenote though: above, it sounds as if I'm having an awful time and am lonely and hating life here, but no, I'm not; I just mean in the grand scheme of things life can be hard and hollow compared to what Jesus has in store for us.)

Day 78: My Life is in Shambles

I actually remember saying this a lot last school year. Because my life was actually in shambles. Never, if you could live parts of your life over again, would I do what I did to myself: the last semester of college is supposed to be chill, college 'laxin'. Not 18 credits with a thesis, and ZERO days with a full night's sleep. Not even time for naps. ABSURD.
But, my reward was righteous, and I had the best summer ever.
However, now I'm over in Aberdeen and I have found myself in a whole new set of shambles.
Not overworked and overstressed about school or anything-- completely different. This time it is the realization that everything happens too fast. I REALLY REALLY REALLY mean it when I say that it feels like last Christmas break was only moments ago; all the pictures taken seem so fresh when I look at them now. This makes me sad about how fast time flies. A wise man at the restaurant a couple nights ago said, "Don't wish any time away, even the time you spend doing things you don't enjoy doing." Because he remarked on the hectic-ness of the night, and I agreed and said "at least on nights like this the time goes by faster." But as soon as his response was out of his mouth, I was agreeing. Wholeheartedly.
I've been here the better part of three months now and only have one more week of classes left, which means a third of my work is done. One more semester of classes, and then a semester of dissertation-writing. Those two periods will go by even faster than this first one has, for I'll have my placement, I'll be travelling, I'll be having people visit me, and it might even get warmer (fingers crossed). Then, before I know it, I'll be back in the US, hopefully starting a job reasonably soon after. I shant wish any time away ever again.And this brings me to the next part of my shambling realization.
All of my friends back home have either just finished their exams or they are about to begin them and in a week they will be heading home for Christmas break. This is my last chance for a Christmas break (and I'm doing it right, with a sibling Eurotrip). But there will never again be a month where my Virginia Beach friends all come back home and spend time roaming around together with no responsibilities, eating our parents' food and sleeping in our childhood beds. It won't be like that again. I have such warm feelings about these breaks. About VB. About those I care about most, still living in VB. And my heart is breaking to know that becoming an adult means forsaking certain awesome student perks.
There is no doubt I am happy to be out of undergrad, and less of a doubt that I will be happy to be out of postgrad come next September, but then what? It's not that I don't plan on doing something that gives me joy and an awesome life, I surely do, duh, who do you think I am (I'm Abi, checking one life dream off my list at a time). But, being a kid rocks. I'm ready to admit that being in college is still being a kid, and I'm simultaneously ready to admit that I'm not ready to stop enjoying that life.

Alas, that is life; it comes at you before you're ready, and you live anyways.

Day 74: Retreat Street

I just got back from a retreat this weekend in Dalmally, somewhere out in the west of Scotland, about three and half hours from Aberdeen. It was great. Very Holy Spirit-filled and rejuvenating. And a very worthwhile distraction from the coursework I need to finish before Friday. It's just like the old days, of late nights and procrastination. Except there are no old days; those are the only days.

Real quick I'd just like to say, if you haven't gotten the picture already, that this blog has pretty much become not as much a journal for where I travel, but more a glimpse into the travels of my mind. How lucky you are, readers;)

Anyways, it was a great weekend full of many great things, notably, great words and conversations shared.
I won't go into too much, because I just don't want to right now right here, but please, ask me about it:)
Why I wanted to post a quick blog tonight: on the way home I was having a conversation with my friend John about music and its healthiness for body, mind, and soul, and I was kind of musing in my head while talkin. So, because it is the life I lead to be constantly inundated with The Sound of Music, a quote from the movie came into my head, and I had a short moment of inspiration. The quote was this one:

Captain Von Trapp: You brought music back into the house. I had forgotten. 

I thought of it, because it is the Captain beginning to soften, to realize his affection for Maria, and to heal from the wounds from his dead wife, all by the gift of music. 
Music can help in so many situations: it can break the ice when there's a group of people together who don't feel really comfortable, it can lift spirits instantaneously when you're having a bad day, it can bring back memories from places or people you didn't even remember you remembered anymore, it can set the mood, it can make the party. All of these things I knew and recognized about music. But in this recent instant of meditation on this quote I made a new realization.
For a man to say to a woman that she has brought music back into his house, his life, became translated by me into the most romantic phrase ever. Music, as a universal way to communicate feelings, particularly love, becomes a metaphor for Love in this quote. 
She brought Music into the house, but what she really brought was Love. 
I want a man to fall in love with me for the Music I bring into his life, for the songs that fill his heart when I'm with him, for the melodies he can't erase from his mind or his lips when he thinks or speaks of me. I want the love I have with a man to be his favorite song, listened to everyday all day not exhausted, sending shivers down his spine when he hears it, and bringing tears to his eyes when he feels it. I don't even know if boys cry when they hear music, but I do sometimes, and I'm not talking about the songs that sing of little daughters diagnosed with cancer or other sad stories, I'm just talking about crying for the music in and of itself, I don't even know why, it's just all the sudden I have tears rolling down my face because the notes strike my heart in such a peculiar, previously unfelt way. To be able to affect someone the way music can affect someone is what romantic love should be.

"You brought music back into the house. I had forgotten. Fraulein, I want you to stay. I ask you to stay."

If this isn't an obvious profession of his love, I don't know what is. In that moment, I would have died. O Captain, my Captain. 

Oops, sorry for that diary entry.
But music. Yeah. 

Song of the day: You Never Let Go-Matt Redman. That was quite the jam this weekend, and it had been so long since I had p&w'd it up.

P.S. SORRRRYYYYY for not posting any pictures with this, because honestly Craig Lodge, the retreat house in Dalmally was located so beautifully in a valley surrounded by snow-covered mountains and meadows with sheepies all over. It was wonderful. Sorry.

Day 71: Tomato, Tomato

Tonight on my way to work (I love the walk from school to work, it's so pleasant), as I was walking through the neighborhood, I got to the point where I am at the highest elevation of the walk and from atop the hill I can see over a lot of the city and out towards the harbor and the moon was still pretty low in the sky, and it just looked really bright and beautiful.

But it was weird, as I got to the top of the hill, I felt like I could see the moon beams lighting on my home across the ocean. It immediately sounded in my mind like the cliche you hear in movies when two lovers speak about sharing the same sky so they don't feel so far from each other, and I'm sure I've said something similar to people before, too. But this time it felt real; the sky was actually connecting me to those thousands of miles away. If I had a periscope or something, I could have held it up and through it seen my family, my friends by the light of the moon that hadn't yet risen for them.

The song that goes "tomato, tomahto, potato, potahto, let's call the whole thing off" always seemed like just a joke to me, because no one REALLY pronounced tomato like "toMAHtoe." But it is no joke. Yesterday I was host at my restaurant and the soup of the day was "Cream of Tomato," and you won't believe how many comments I got for my pronunciation. But I also got four US dollars when one guy found out I was American--his "leftovers"--I'll take it.

some of MY leftovers ;)

Last week was a school fail, since I was planning and preparing for Thanksgiving and then having Thanksgiving and then "continuing my Thanksgiving break". This week I tried to be a better student. I only skipped one day...But it was an accident! And in my defense, I spent the day working on coursework anyways.
Also in the news for this week: I get paid for the first time tomorrow (slash midnight tonight). I was given the greatest of early Christmas presents by my dear friend Taylor Cathey--a Premium subscription to Spotify for a month, so I can freely listen to music and sing all the Christmas carols I could ever want to sing. I am going on a retreat for this weekend to somewhere like 4 hours from here, closer to the west coast of Scotland. I left work sick tonight after eating some (apparently)tainted, vegetable cuisine they had in the staff room. Life.

Quote of the day (from the movie Amazing Grace that I watched a couple weeks ago with some friends): William Wilberforce: No one of our age has ever taken power.

Pitt the Younger: Which is why we're too young to realize certain things are impossible. Which is why we will do them anyway.

a bridge on my walk from work to my apartment

a church on my walk from work to my apartment

Song of the day: Maybe Tonight-Margaret Durante (Thanks, Laurel)

Day 65: A Thanksgiving Post

my turkey brining the day and night before.

A wise woman once told me that I probably wouldn't realize that I was thousands of miles from home, or what I was doing there, or that I am stuck here for a lot longer until somewhere in the middle of November. (She was right.)
Things are starting to hit me. It's probably because one of the best holidays was just celebrated, and it happens to be American, and it happens to be about reflecting on what you are thankful for and for me a lot of those things happen to be back across the ocean.
I will list just a few things I am truly thankful for:
Country music
Warm covers
Functional legs
International friends that were willing to share a Thanksgiving feast with me and make the evening great
Family back home
Having people an ocean away that I care about enough to miss
Being American
& Thanksgiving leftovers.

So yeah, it's November, and I've been here for over 2 months! That's over 1/6 of my Aberdeen adventure over. But, even though I am not one to get homesick, there's a little baby pit in my stomach that longs to be with all those people back home, doing the things we'd usually be doing. (Black Friday shopping with Sam and Katie--scoring big deals and having big laughs, walking on the boardwalk and singing through the 12 days of Christmas with Taylor while eating ice cream cones even though it's too cold outside, hanging out with my parents and Johnny boy and eating my mom's homecookin', sleeping in my own bed, etc.)
But then it hits me, if I  had stayed home and not come to Aberdeen, it would have meant I would have made some other sort of life plan, and it wouldn't be the same anyways. I wouldn't just be a college kid coming home for Thanksgiving break. I might be a real person, contributing to the world as a working adult (writing that out makes me realize why I decided to do this instead). Where would I be IF? Weird. An unanswerable question, though.

Also, I decided I want to work for the National Park Service.


And, to end on a more important note, I've decided I can't choose just one country singer to be my husband. Because we have the heartthrob, Tim McGraw, an easy first pick. But there's also Josh Turner, whose perfect voice could melt the heart of Josef Stalin. Then I'm like, CRAP, what about cutie blue eye half smile baby Luke Bryan? And if you figure in the fact that a beard and a love for the beach can get me every time, plus writing lyrics that sing to my soul doesn't hurt, you also have to throw Zac Brown into the game.
Not choosing any one of them is the only logical thing to do. So I'll have them all, Thanks.
Don't tell their wives.

just two pics from my little walk/hike with the Carrolls last weekend.

Day 53: Carrying Your Love With Me

by George Strait. is playing right now. and it is just the sweetest of songs. I miss country music. Praise God for Grooveshark.

Anyways,

Maybe it's the glass of red wine I had tonight, or maybe it really is the fact that there is so much good in my life and that I have been holding the hand of the greatest Man all day today, but whatever the reason, my insides are numb and I don't even know how to process.

My day started with a 10-mile run, and I swear it was the best run of my life. I saw great things, felt great while seeing them, and embraced the Aberdonian sun on my face and the warm 45 degree weather on my bare arms and legs. 

I showered and ate and skyped Katie and cleaned my room before I was picked up by Kyli, who's husband and her had invited me to their house for the evening, to dine with them and their family. It was set up through something I had signed weeks ago at the RGU International Student Fair, saying that I was interested in being contacted by a host family. Rob and Kyli are a married couple with two children, Cassidy and Luke, 13 and 10, and one brown dog, Ginger, from Anchorage, Alaska. They've been here for a year for Rob's job. It was a wonderful visit with wonderful conversation and I LOVED being in a house. I was JUST speaking to friends about how I missed the comfort of being in a house, since I haven't been in one since I've been in Aberdeen (sometimes it's just the little answered prayers that make life so amazing).

The lasagna dinner was delicious, as was the birthday cake that followed, to celebrate Rob turning 37 tomorrow.

We talked a lot about the funny/surprising differences between America and here, and another girl, Carmen, from Romania, was also there, so she threw in some great Romanian perspectives.

From the whole over-4-hour visit, the best thing was watching Rob and Kyli interact with each other and interact with their children. It was a waterfall of love within that house, and it literally made my heart swell. I was so happy happy happy to see a home so full of love and respect and the normal kid-parent confrontations and challenges. 

It was the simple things, like hearing Rob read out the "You're the best, funnest, coolest daddy" card given to him by his kids while they were arguing in the background over the fact that Luke wanted the card to only be from him, and how after we had opened presents and cards and eaten cake and the kids had left the room and we were just talking, Rob stood up randomly and suddenly and stepped over to his wife, lifted her chin, and kissed her on her lips, sweetly, seemingly in the middle of the conversation, then thanked her for everything and she responded in a smile and "You're welcome, anything for you." And it wasn't mushy, and it wasn't weepy, and it wasn't awkward, and I didn't feel like I shouldn't be watching. It was just real and honest; she really meant it and so did he, and I could have bursted in that moment.

I have so many blessings in so many forms in my life and to list all of the ones that I am thinking of today and why they are great would take far too long and far too many words. I love families and happy marriages and dogs and America and Dads and wine and all food. But I will leave it at that for now and I will fall asleep in the hands of the One who pursues my heart everyday, who loves me so deeply I can't even understand, and who runs/walks/stands beside me at all moments, when I'm at my weakest and when I feel like I'm standing on top of the world. Thanks, Jesus, for answering my call and holding my hand all day.

Day 48: Election Day

I wish I could be home in America on this big day for my country. I'm praying for all of you.
There is so much I could say on the election, but I won't.

I can't believe I've been over here for 48 days.
Here are some trivial opinions I have formed on certain things:

I like the candy
I don't like the ice cream
I like haggis
I don't like the bacon
I don't like the currency
(or the exchange rate)
I do like that I will convert pounds to dollars at the end of the year when I go home, though ($$$)
I like my courses alright
I don't like my campus

And now here is an analogy I'd like to share with you:

Praying is like blowing snot rockets while jogging--
You start off never doing it, it's not even on your mind, then one day your nose is super runny and you don't know what to do about it, so after suffering through the snot and wiping your nose on your own sleeve for a while, you check to make sure absolutely no one is around, and then you engage the rocket. You feel so relieved. Then the next time you have a runny nose, it is the first thing you think to do, but again, you check to make sure no one is around, and then you go for it. As this goes on you begin to see that snot rockets are the best way to cure the runny-jogger's nose, and the sleeve isn't an option anymore, so, you start to do it more freely; you still make sure no one is looking your way, but you don't need the streets to be completely clear anymore. Your comfort with the act continues to grow, and soon you realize just how vital this act is, that you barely hesitate in doing it; at the first sight of a sniffle, your finger is poised to close one nostril. The snot rocketting becomes enjoyable, a pleasure, fun, even, and as long as someone won't be directly assaulted by the rocket you stop caring who is watching you, or who knows you are blowing snot rockets. After all, it's a runner's life, and you gotta keep yourself able to breathe somehow.

Day 41: It's going to be a Good Week

And it has been a good week.
I am pretty much in full swing of working mode, aka, I'm still "the new girl," but I know my way around spare a few details, and I've been handed the full load of responsibility that comes with my position.
I worked breakfast for the first time on Saturday, after a closing shift on Friday; which equalled 4 hours of sleep and then being picked up at 5:20 am to start work at 6. I enjoyed the shift though, before it got busy I was standing at the back of the room, surveying the few people that had already arrived, watching them as they quietly ate their buffet breakfasts in an almost silent room. I didn't realize that I had any sentimentalities connected with hotel breakfasts, but as I stood there I was whisked back to the early mornings of soccer tournaments I traveled to with my mom. Awake and cold and miserable and surrounded by 20 other girls with sleep-crusted eyes and ponytails, at the crack of dawn, trying to eat healthy before we had to be at the field. It made me miss several things: one) playing soccer, two) my mom, and three) being on a team.
Then I was transported to another, newer affiliation, of my most recent hotel stays, over the summer with Thomas, when we cherished the few times we got to stay in a warm bed and eat complimentary, all-you-can-eat breakfasts of cereal, muffins, fruit, bagels, and juice the next morning. What a life I lived this past summer.
And what a life I'm living now.
I experienced many new things this past week. First, I found myself smiling while I was running, out of the blue, grins just appearing on my face as I do one of the few things in the past that I said I hated. Secondly, I tried the British equivalent of the Mounds bar, but I'm pretty sure it's better here, and it's called Bounty, and I never wanted to stop eating it. Thirdly, I experienced snow on the 26th of October. And it went on for hours, and it stuck. Though by the end of the next day it had mostly melted.
Anyways, I am in high spirits as I begin this new week which will usher in the month of November (and I think part of the reason for my cheer is that I have had two comments/compliments on the length of my hair in the past two days--it's almost getting there again!). November is a great month which holds the date of one of my favorite holidays, Thanksgiving, and I have already begun plans for how I will carry out the American traditions in a land far from America.

Oh yeah, and Halloween....I'm not doing anything that I know of. A bit sad, but I guess I've never really been super into it, slash people here don't seem to be as into it?
My room and the living room have officially been feng shui'ed. It feels nice.

Day 34: Monday

Me. And Carmina and Bruno. Not this past weekend, but the one before.

So I know I told you that these would become less frequent, and the last one was only on Saturday, but I just have to write because Monday is a day for ideas and inner workings and frustration and discussion and standing firm in beliefs and being American.....for some.

some sights on my recent walks around town. to prepare you for the blog post that is to follow.

University of Aberdeen. Prettier than Robert Gordon :(

The River Dee. 

Today in Digital Age I was again forced to sit through a lecture where the lecturer and class all seemed to be pretty much in agreement on the topic in discussion while I was vehemently opposed and left squirming in my chair in the back of the classroom.
Today we were discussing privacy, on the internet, in regards to information, and just in everyday life. Of course this has already kind of come up, but not been the focus. We know my views: the government has no business in seeing/hearing/knowing anything/everything I do and say. Not only does this give the government too much control and influence in people's everyday lives, but it also causes people to become too confident in the "security" that is being provided to them and therefore they feel like they don't have to uphold the society's principles as individuals, because Big Brother will just swoop in and do it for them. Also, how safe do cameras actually make the world? Sure it might deter law-abiding citizens from committing some petty crime they might have been tempted to if they didn't know they were being watched, but are those the people we really need to worry about? Or do we need to worry about the real criminals who don't care about the cameras and who will act before a camera can do anything to stop them? Yeah. A video of a crime isn't protection against a crime.

I had a good and long talk on Skype with my bro, Zach, yesterday, discussing these things and further.

To sum up my views I will leave a few quotes.
First, applying this to the fact that the gov't doesn't have to and SHOULDN'T do everything for its citizens:
"Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." -JFK.
then, the one Zach showed me in our talk:
"They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety."-Ben Franklin
then:
"Give me Liberty or Give me Death!"- Patrick Henry

These are views that were admitted in the lecture today to not be held by the UK citizens as a whole. It's a different culture, and maybe it does go back to America's history and what we were founded upon, but I think there is a truth existent in a right to liberty that everyone needs to realize. My lecturer was quoted saying that there is "clearly not one right and one wrong," to which I laughed, because I disagree. I think I am right. (But many people will say "When do you not?") 
America is the most free country in the world, and just because other country's citizens don't WANT that freedom doesn't mean they shouldn't have it. 
I felt that my point was proven when the lecturer began discussing the idea of the perfect prison, using an omnipresent observer to observe the prisoners at any time randomly, when they don't know, so they don't misbehave because they can't know when they are or aren't being watched. He related this idea to society. Basically "people will behave and act uprightly if they know they could be being watched." So, great, we've created a society which reflects a prison, and the only reason people are acting well is because they are scared not to. Sounds splendid.

I will also note that when he asked if anyone was uncomfortable with the constant surveillance in CCTV, no one said they did, not even I, but later when the topic arose, I raised my hand and said "I didn't say anything about feeling uncomfortable about CCTV, but I do, the only reason I stayed silent was because this isn't my country, and I only have to deal with it temporarily."
American girl, from day one to my last day.
I love seeing the world and being in Scotland and learning so much and meeting so many people from everywhere, but I will not concede for even a moment that my country is not the greatest. Sorry I'm not sorry.

just some casual doodles that typify a day in the life of Abi in class. the four Cardinal virtues in Latin, of course. 

really pretty fall ivy spotted on my walk home from school today.

Also, I'm listening to Taylor Swift currently and it is provoking all sorts of nostalgic/sentimental feelings. Good times. I just love her.

Song of the Day: Fifteen- Taylor Swift. One, because it's great. Two, because I can't believe 15 was so long ago and I wish it wasn't. Three, because it was just on.

Day 32: "Cake and Dates"

Bruno's two favorite things. He loves cake and dates. I would admit, they are good things; it only got weird when he said he liked "dates in cakes" and I was like, uh, I mean, I wouldn't mind eating cake on a date, but a date IN a cake?...sounds strange.



fruit jokes.




ANYWAYS. This past week has been good and BUSY. I started working for real, three shifts, and they went well. I like waitressing. It's fast-paced, fun, and kinda scary, which makes it more fun. But I guess it will get less scary. Which might mean less fun...

My blog is going to become less frequent, in order to make you readers weak with anticipation and therefore more exultant when the next post is finally released!

I feel like things are kinda falling into place here in Aberdeen, after a little over a month. For one, today, the realization of how I want to set up my room finally hit me. I knew the layout wasn't preferable as soon as I moved in, but I couldn't quite grasp how I wanted it arranged. But I got it now, so I'm 'bout to feng shui the crap outta this place.

I've been walking and running everywhere, in order to get my exercise and avoid paying for the heinously-priced bus. I really like walking though, and the more I walk the more I like it, and the more I realize that if more people walked for transportation, the world would be a better place: People would know their community better, they wouldn't be in as big of a rush, they would say hi to their neighbors, they would notice how quickly flowers turn from blooming to bloomed to wilting and how pretty they are in each state, they would have more pocket change from picking up what they find on the sidewalks, they would be healthier, they would smell the seasons changing and hopefully less car exhaust, they would feel the drizzly rain on their faces but realize that it's not much more than a mist and it shouldn't banish you to the indoors.

I did my first loads of laundry today, too. Typical Abi.

I love anyone who reads this, really, and the few of you who have messaged me separately to tell me you're reading or that you enjoy the blog are just great, and it's meant a lot. I like knowing that people back home, or around me, are still interested in what's going on with my life. Don't forget me, America. :)
ALSO, read this article I wrote for a little online magazine, Off the Blueprint: http://offtheblueprint.com/2012/10/20/caged-in-flying-free/

Thanks!

Day 24&25: The Deer Pants

So apparently I was making an embarrassment out of myself without even knowing it, but that's not too hard to believe. Yesterday at choir practice (still sounds weird), we were thinking about singing a song with the first line "As the deer pants for water" and I kept making a joke about my deer pants (gotta go huntin' to make some new deer pants, in my most ridiculous redneck voice (WHICH BRINGS ME TO ANOTHER POINT: I had to explain to them what I meant when I said "hick" and "redneck" and when I tried to describe them using things like "drive around with confederate flags on their trucks or NASCAR, they didn't understand either of those examples. It was a crazy moment), etc.). But it wasn't until over an hour later when Harin casually told me how pants here are underwear, and what I know as pants are called trousers. Making people feel awkward since I can remember...
Anyways, I also skipped class yesterday, and it was great. I got a lot done at home actually, organizationally and took a nap and went on a run. All good things. After choir I introduced some friends to candy corn and THEY ALL LOVED IT and my heart was glad. Then we watched a Bollywood movie at Carmina's flat; thanks for that experience, Bruno..

Today, I woke at 9 and sent my absentee ballot back to the States and then went on a really great 40 minute run wearing just a t-shirt! Look at me! I'm adapting so well! I saw some really pretty big ol' mansion-house thingies on this run. Most of them had been converted to businesses or hotels or restaurants (the types of restaurants you go to if you're rich and middle-aged and have a husband who takes you nice places---or not rich and middle-aged but just have a husband who takes you nice places). I finished my run but hadn't reached home yet, and since I am going to be sticking to a specific training schedule I didn't want to keep running extra to get home even though I felt great, so I walked in my short-sleeves all the way back, and really wasn't even cold. I stopped in to the bike shop that I pass on my way to school every morning just to have a look around, and it was quite nice. Then I stopped in to the "American Candy Store" which just opened on Union street but it was literally just a British candy store. With American cereal. The only American candy they had was stuff that I assume is world wide, the big brands that I've already seen around, and Twizzlers, maybe those aren't usually here. Alas, it would have been too good to be true.

I then ate and stretched and took a nap. Then I found my favorite area of Aberdeen (so far) on a superb walk to the bicycle cooperative thang in Old Aberdeen, through the University of Aberdeen campus. I have decided that I wish I went to Aberdeen rather than Robert Gordon. The Garthdee campus is ugly and modern with its steel and glass buildings, but I have always put too much stock on my setting's aesthetics, I suppose.
Anyways, I went away bikeless. It's a cool scheme they have going, but they didn't have any bikes that wouldn't still be crappy even after they were fully functional. To be expected, I guess. I will possibly still concede at a later date, but for now my brain is working on a plan B.

Games games games and fun.

Day 23: Michael Jordan

23 is just Michael Jordan's number, and I appreciate that.

Also: Today is the day that marks the beginning of the Year of Faith in the Catholic Church! May we all be enlightened and encouraged as we grow closer to God and our faiths. Mass was great, and the bishop already knows my name, sooo, I meannn..I don't like to say this too often ya know, but..I'm kinda a big deal. (Also, Bishop Hugh's voice during the homily was reminding me of Count Rugen's...not a good thing, but at least the content of his message was quite different than anything that six-fingered man would say (go watch The Princess Bride if you don't understand this reference))

And: Life for me right now is hilarious and good. I received a package from my mother with CANDY CORNNNN and great socks:) She knows the way to my heart. I fear that I've already eaten more than half of the first bag of candy corn. Luckily this stuff is really good for me and my teeth and all of that. Basically a vitamin. SPEAKING OF HEALTHY: I went jogging through the cold Aberdeen streets today. Wound all around and had quite a nice little run. This is going to continue happening. Abi is shaping up. We'll see what happens when "Winter" actually gets here. Actually someone in my class today mentioned how Autumn is late in arriving this year... Oh really? Are you sure you don't mean it was quite premature and that's why we're living in an ice pit already?

But seriously, I exaggerate. It hasn't been too bad. Only at night really, when the sun goes down, do I suffer. And some other times. But all in all I'm still contentedly waiting until I really need to pack on the layers.

I can't believe there is no free gym membership at this university. Free freakin' healthcare and a university that is having hundreds of thousands of dollars (pounds) pumped into it by its faithful pupils can't even give us free treadmill use. Boo.

The trees are finally kinda starting to turn color though, but it seems like more of a pattern of Yellow then immediately falling off, rather than the great transitions we have in Virginia and other similar places. However, I shall continue to observe the development.

Day 22: Words

It's that moment when there is so much to say, you can't say anything.

I have done so much thinking since I've been here in Scotland. Some of it has come through on this blog, and you've seen that if you've been reading, but not all of it has.
I'm glad for all this thinking; I was predicting/hoping I would do this much thinking and reflecting. Being so far away from what I know is an obvious way to push me out of my comfort zone and force me to focus on what matters, what I want to do, where and who I want to be.
Obviously, I haven't gotten everything figured out, but pieces are falling together and more than ever I'm feeling God's presence.

So I won't pour out all the thoughts boiling in my brain, threatening to bubble out from my tongue. I will leave you with some of my favorite quotes that I've written in journals and such over the past year and that I read through today. I see even more relevant (and new) meaning in them now than I probably did when I scribbled them down.

"Leaving home in a sense involves a kind of second birth in which we give birth to ourselves." -Robert Neelly Bellah

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, Discover that I had not lived." -H.D. Thoreau

"And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness." -Sylvia Plath (but she's always a bit depressing, am I right?)

"There ain't no way you can hold onto something that wants to go, you understand? You can only love what you got while you got it." -Because of Winn-Dixie, Kate DiCamillo

"Nothing remains as it was. If you can know this, you can begin again, with pure joy in the uprooting." -Judith Minty


and maybe my favorite quote, from my favorite book (so far), Jane Eyre, "It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it."
 

Day 21: Three Weeks

To the tune of "One Week" by Barenaked Ladies (for all those to whom this is not apparent)

It's been..
Three weeks since in Aberdeen,
Cock my head to the side and say, "Really?"
Five days is like all it seems, saying
Gettin' it together, comin' so easy
In my flat, I stay in my room,
I realize that's most my fault, but Jenkins smells, too.
Really hope you're forgivin' me--
was a cruel joke 'bout my flatmate, and I say I'm sorry.

Hold it now and watch my rhyme skills
As I make you get chills
You'll think you're listening to Eminem
I put veggies in my dish, although I like the meat and Swiss
Too poor for sushi
And that is why I'm crying, man.
Just like my 5p when I see dimes
Get caught for fraud crimes
Because I'm using foreign currency,
Annie Lennox got the mad hits
She needed babysits, 'cuz this is where she went to preschool.
Gonna make a break and take a fake
I'd like a stinkin choc'late shake
Or a vanilla, it's the finest of the flavours
Just want ice cream though, cause don't ya'll know
Need my tummy to grow
Cause it's so very cold,
I've thrown away my shaver...

How can I help it if I think it's funny I'm post grad
Growin' up like a champ makes me feel sad
I'm the kind of "quine" who laughs at a funeral
Kilts underwhich there is none
Gimme quite a thrill.
I have a tendency to right my mind in my blog
I have a history of doing silly things

It's been three weeks since in Aberdeen.
Throw my arms in the air
and say "That's crazy."

Hope you appreciate.

Yes, yes three weeks, and isn't that lovely. My midweek weekend has started, I even had a class cancelled today. So I came home and slept for five hours...Normal.
Jenkins has informed me that he's trying to transfer to new housing. We shall see how that goes; honestly I haven't developed full thoughts on what I feel about this, but, I think as long as I get a new flatmate in his place I'd be fine with it.
If I don't, I'll just have to find other places to be a lot so I'm not lonely/ I'll just invite someone to come live with me, the school would never know there was an occupant in the extra bedroom. Anyone not tied down and trying to move to Scotland? Lemme know.

Day 20: On My Own

The deleting of my Twitter account happened yesterday. I don't even have anything against Twitter; in fact, I probably have less against Twitter than I do against Facebook. However, Facebook at this moment is a necessary evil and deleting it would mean severely limiting the contact I could have with my beloved Americans. Twitter, I enjoy, but it's a purposeless enjoyment. It might bring me a laugh or two on the daily, but I've found that I mindlessly scroll through my news feed too often, just because I am bored and feel like I have nothing else to do. Then, I post things that I could just write on this, or keep to myself, or tell someone in particular. I just realized that I don't really feel the need to broadcast my thoughts to everyone who follows me (not like its really much of a crowd).
If I keep more things to myself, maybe they will turn into greater things later that can inspire a greater thought process, rather than being an immediate splash of words for me to get off my chest and have others glance at momentarily, if noticing them at all, while I forget them completely.
Plus, I just kinda want to distance myself from this desire for social media and constant interaction. For almost a year I was completely devoid of any of it, and I enjoyed that. But when I came back to Facebook, I went all in and got a Twitter soon after, then a tumblr, and then a Pinterest. Well, I don't use tumblr anymore, and I won't get rid of Pinterest because more than anything its just USEFUL! and fun. so many recipes that I actually try, and it provides me with inspiration for art and such. But, the point is, I need to limit. Eventually I hope to get rid of the Facebook again, life was so much better and less wasted without it. But not yet, for now I must wait.

These ramblings were actually written last night, and hence, it is hilarious that for the second week in a row, my Sunday contemplations have led perfectly into issues brought up in class on Monday:

Mondays are setting a trend for being thought-provocative days. My Digital Age class again caused a fire to swell inside of me. Not this time with sentimentality towards the written book, but with a (I now see it as a truly American notion) vigor to protect and maintain my liberty and privacy. Big Brother is at it, all over Europe, but more so the UK apparently, and people are okay with this?! "CCTV" is watching people at all moments in public, on buses, on the streets, and in the universities and schools. "To protect the citizens and work as a preventative measure, for keeping the peace" or whatever, but now they're implementing audio tracking as well! So that hateful/prejudicial speech can be monitored and stamped out.
Maybe it's just me (and in my class today it was), but this view that cameras and recordings are the best way to keep a society in line is complete ridiculousness. A society should be able to function through the character of its own citizens, aka if someone is being a racist jerk, then the people around should be upstanding enough to tell that person directly, not wait for The All-Seeing Eye to send a minion out to swoop down and punish. This practice seems to be a demoralizing one. Why would people continue to feel responsibility in standing up for their convictions and for the Good, when they think someone else is already in line to do it for them, someone sitting behind a TV monitor...
This discussion was included in the broader discussion that the world is becoming more visible in all ways. People disclose their lives or most parts of it on Facebook, Twitter, and other ways that are seen by hundreds of "friends" and possible others, too. My teacher was saying that in ten years we will be laughing that we thought "audio recordings of our actions in public was something to be hesitant about" and saying that everyone will be used to having their lives in the public domain, it will just be written in their minds that it is "normal."
He was making the point that everyone wants to be normal, so if it is normal that everyone is hooked into social media to such a great extent, then everyone will do it. Likening it to the fact of everyone having a mobile phone now: if you don't, you aren't normal, you are strange; cell phones have become basically necessary since it is how everyone communicates. He then asked the class "who wants to be strange, or doesn't mind being excluded from society or regarded as normal?" I raised my hand. To hell with Society! Bah!
This is making me almost choose to not get a cell plan over here at all. Who WANTS to be normal? Not I and especially not on the platform that it means being so plugged in to the digital environment that I am losing touch with the REAL WORLD AROUND ME. The lands I travel to, the BOOKS I READ, the sights I see; if they are all seen through a lens of virtual existence then what even IS there?!
I hope that as a global community we don't continue to slide down this slippery slope, and that people will realize technology is a tool not a lifestyle.

Day 19: Pasta is Cheap and Pasta is Good.

Sunday, a day of rest.
Yes, indeed. I slept in.
I watched many episodes of Arrested Development. Which I also did yesterday.
I went grocery shopping with my last 14 pounds and now have 57 pence left. Alas, have no fear, for my bank account is opening, so I just have to transfer my money, shrink it, and boom it'll be ready to use!

I then made some bread and some pasta, left the dough to rise and the pasta to sit in the 'fridgerator, while I made my way to St. Mary's Cathedral for the first time since I've been here, to go to my second mass of the weekend and my second choir. Yes, that's right, I've found myself included in two choirs now.
Tea at the church after mass with a couple "already" friends and several new ones was nice. Zoli was a-playin' on the gee-tar. All the Indians were yelling in different languages and making fun of their respective states and laughing, while me, the American, Zoli, the Hungarian, and Martha, the Czech, plus Evelyn, the Old Lady, were left in unawares. Good times. We were eventually shooed out of the church when we found ourselves right outside in a brief sing-along session to Adele, Train, and the likes. We are currently in the planning stages of a karaoke night to come.
We walked back, and I popped the bread in the oven and ate my pasta. And I just have to say. Pasta is good without doing much to it. Carlay, I'ma give you a shout out, because I know you are Patron of Meager Toppings, and I can appreciate that. Some cheese, garlic and olive oil was all I had-- and all I needed-- to fully enjoy my dinner. Being poor isn't the worst. Just gonna be carb loading for a while, ya dig?
Now I suppose I shall do some work or something.
Good night. Good weekend.
Hello, Week.

Day 17&18: Ice Cream Factory

Thinking of names for these blog posts has become the bane of my existence.

Friday was a good day: class, then I went to choir practice, and then to a "movie" with some of the St Peter's young adults. Except the movie wasn't actually playing when we thought it was playing, so we settled for Pizza Hut after a long period of indecisive wandering. I had already eaten dins, so I got the "Ice Cream Factory" which is just all you can eat ice cream and toppings from their ice cream bar. Two bowls did me good. That was the first true ice cream I've had since I've been here, and I needed it. Hanging with Christine, Harin, Bruno, and Sean was quite fun, too. They got a little taste of my ridiculousness, loud laugh included.
Saturday, I literally did a whole lot of nothing, until I had to leave to get to vigil mass. I sang with the choir up in the choir loft, pretending like I was someone, except we hadn't even practiced the vigil hymns, so I didn't know them, except two which I knew just from growing up Catholic. But yeah, I caught on and blah di blah. We then went to the BISHOP'S HOUSE. Like, this is something that happens commonly over here. These kids, they just go and chill with the bishop. I mean, it was a designated event with adoration and a talk, but still, he knows all of them by name and is always around, and it's crazy. I guess their diocese (is it the same plural?) are just smaller over here because it's a smaller country, so there can be more interaction as such.
The talk was given by Sister Andrea from I-forget-the-order-name, but they help women in Crisis pregnancies. Good talk. On Sex and Babies. Always a good topic, eh? And I guess it was fitting given the readings for this Sunday, all that "men-and-women-shall-not-be-separated" stuff.
There was an intercession in the middle where we stopped for tea, and Bruno and I ate like 400 pounds of sour cream and onion chips, but it was just so good, because you know when you reach down to take a potato chip, assuming its Regular and that it will only be mildly good, but then its Sour Cream and Onion and the next thing you know you are in Chip Heaven and you JUST. CANT. STOP. YOURSELF. Well, whether you've experienced this or not, it's what happened.

Also, if anyone is wondering how I so casually didn't talk about getting involved in the church choir, thennn, yeah. I guess it takes me flying across an ocean to decide to want to sing for anyone. It's weird though.

Day 15&16:TCB

Wednesday is the day that I shall focus on:
So, I didn't have class; I awoke and got myself a new patient appointment at the doctor's for next Wednesday, to get myself fully into the National Health System and be registered in Aberdeen. Then, I went to an optometrist right down the street from me and got an appointment for a free eye exam, because honestly I swear I lose more vision ability everyday. Maybe its the fact that I'm reading boards/computers again now, being back at school, so I'm noticing it, but who knows. We'll see the diagnosis soon enough, that appointment is for next Wednesday as well.
The biggest issue with maybe needing glasses is....HOWWW is this happening now? Pretty sure I spent most of my elementary years wanting glasses, to be like my dad I suppose, but then I came to realize it is much better that I don't have them: I don't have to worry about losing them, or breaking them, or paying for them, not to mention that I have never put on a pair of glasses I look good in...

Anywho, I then made my way to the Thistle hotel in Aberdeen, for a job interview at 2pm. I mean, I won't say I was surprised when she practically begged me to take the job, but I did help her off her knees, because it was causing me to blush to have people see her grovelling at my feet just to accept a part-time job. But in earnest, the interview went well, and I'm excited to start working! Boss Lady told me I'll be working with mostly students, so that will be a good way to continue to meet people.
Getting this job also secured the fact that I didn't have to go back that evening to the horrible hotel to see if I got that job. Which meant I had the rest of the afternoon and evening free, so I treated myself to purchasing JK Rowling's new book and a lollipop from the sweets shop down the road from my flat. I spent a couple hours reading at a little park right down the street that I discovered on my way to the doctor's earlier that day. Then, I was off to St. Peter's for a delicious meal and intro to the Alpha course which will officially start next week. They're doing the Alpha course in lieu of the usual Young Adults group, and basically its a 7-week course specifically tailored/condensed for students, but anyone is welcome, to get back into their faith, rejuvenate it, and just learn more. It was quite fun, I met up with my friend from last week, Rachael, and talked with a bunch of others I had previously met. I also met a few new people, including...........the guy who sat down to work at the table in the library where I was sleeping. I figured/hoped I would never see him again, but lo and behold, in this secular continent, he happens to be Catholic, too, and the first thing he says to me when he sees me is, "You're the girl who was sleeping in the library!" and then he proceeded to tell everyone around the story and the ridiculousness of it all. So that's cool.

Then today, Thursday, I went to classes, this was pretty much the first day where real work was done/discussed/due(in a loose sense). I came home and my eyes were so tired and my head was kinda achey, but I meant to go out and shop for groceries and then cook dinner since it was already 20 til five. Instead, I fell asleep until 9pm. Casual Abi move. Dinner with what I had here ended up being delicious anyways, the best pasta yet (tasted like pizza from Busch Garden's Festhaus, if you can understand that) and roasted green beans in olive oil and Parmesan.

Day 14: A Digital Age

Monday, Monday, can't trust that day.
But seriously.
All I had course-wise was my 9am lecture that wasn't held last week due to the holiday. So, it was the first time meeting Scotsman Roddy Smith, lecturer for my "Digital Age" course. The course was fine and well until we began to discuss how the digital age we're living in will eventually bring an end to hard-copy books.
Yes,  yes I know things will continue to become digitized, and I understand the benefits of it in many aspects: need less room for storage, more easily accessible for everyone, and less cost to students buying textbooks per se. BUT to talk about how in a few years no one will be given textbooks, only e-books, and everyone will have an e-reader, the same as the shift to smart phones that started a couple years ago, is slightly mortifying. And when I say slightly, I am using that lightly. Because truly, my emotions were caught off guard and my convictions about this digital reading phenomenon surfaced not long into the class discussion. Yes, books will exist even after/if they stop being created, because no one is going to burn the ones in existence or anything, but the thought of a world where NEW books are no longer created, where kids don't wait in line for hours for the release of the next book in their favorite series or rush to the library/bookstore as soon as they finish one to gain the other, where people don't feel the pages in their hands and turn/fold/touch them til they're soft and brown, and where they can't smell a book to tell its age, but instead have a dead cold screen at their faces, is a depressing notion, and an unstoppable, confused sadness mixed with rage welled up inside of me. It was honestly a battle to keep tears from spilling down my cheek.
I was called to action. Yes, I have vowed to become a Keeper of the Books. And I hope many of you out there are with me, so that in my growing age I can join you at your houses and still see shelves full of your favorite and well-loved volumes.
It's funny because prior to class on Monday, I already had other new ideas spinning in my head from a whirlwind of a Sunday night. I've made a goal/challenge for myself: to not buy any clothing for myself during this year in Scotland. Following my thoughts from yesterday's blog, I just realized I was already becoming too wrapped up in creating for myself this new Scottish, postgraduate image. Not only do I not have money at the time to waste on frivolities of fashion, but once I do get money, they would still be a silly thing to spend it on (especially when there is so much delicious food to be eaten and so many great places to venture). If Scotland isn't fine with the Abi of the Cosby sweater, then it doesn't really matter anyways, because it's only a year that they have to deal with it. A second facet of this goal/challenge is, by the end of this year, since most of my clothing will have been well used/loved by me for years, I will cut myself from my attachments to them and donate them to a local thrift store, save my most cherished/necessary articles. This will let me lighten my shipping load on the return journey home, as well as giving me more room to tote the next part of my goal:
After Monday's class and the decision to be a Soldier for Physical Texts, I have decided that slowly and surely I must acquire any and all relevant/worthy/entertaining/classic texts which I can get my hands on, because even if I don't want to read them now and don't know when I will, I need to begin building my library to a greater extent so that in five years time, and longer, I will have a substantial testament to my dedication for the continued practice of reading books with paper pages.

Where is the magic in a mother scrolling through digital images as she reads her child a bedtime story? and where is the excitement in simply downloading the latest release? and where is the adventure in browsing through an electronically-produced list rather than foraging through stacks and stacks of colorful spines all aligned and waiting to be pulled off their shelves?

Also I went to Adoration on this feast of St. Therese of the Child Jesus and ate cake twice.
Good day. Stirring day.

Day 13: Talkos

As I attended mass yesterday, I was able to sleep in today and laze around until I had to be off for my interview thang which began at 3:30.
I decided to walk the three miles to the hotel on Garthdee road, because who's gonna pay for weekend buses? Not I. (I need a bike.) But the walk was actually really good, and since I kinda know where I'm going now, at least in that direction, I could take my time and pay more attention to the sights I was passing.
The interview was stupid to say the least. I have to go back Wednesday to see if I get it. But honestly, I might just not go back on Wednesday, because I don't think I really want to work for a stuffy B who thinks appearance is literally THEE most important thing in the world. Slash. Just. Ugh. There are ways to make a presentation about your business and there are ways which you should not.
But I had a good convo with another girl who came to interview for part of the walk back to my home, and then Jenkins made tacos for dinner complete with GUAC, and I still have cake waiting on me, so overall, worse things could have happened today.
Also, it was a BEAUTIFUL DAY. I was walking around in a tank top and felt great and wished I hadn't donned the stockings and boots.
After the tacos, Ije came over again (figured out the spelling of her name! short for Ijema, still pronounced eyejay though so don't read it wrong, ha) and Jenkins was out of the room skyping with his cousin most of the time, so hilariously Ije and I talked for almost two hours discussing Nigerian politics and relating them to broader situations, too. I learned a lot.
One great thing about being here, abroad, is that I have already learned so much from these international kids I'm meeting, just by talking to them and hearing their views and standings on different topics and issues. Honestly, some of it sucks to hear because of having to deal with hearing about US gov't crap, but the thing is that they seem to have a better insight into the way America should be heading than most Americans I've talked to. They understand and admire what America was founded on, something that we as Americans need to think back about.
Let's get back to our roots, America. Homework tonight: everyone go read our founding documents (I'm going to).

Why do people get so wrapped up in power, reputation, and personal gain? I see this everywhere, from the interview today to politics everywhere to half the people you meet in this materialistic, "Me" society. If people honestly were working for the good of others and not only acting when they thought they could benefit, the world would be a better place. But that doesn't just mean SAYING that's what you do/want to do, it means actually DOING. So yeah, my generation is all active and trying to change the world, but if we honestly look at ourselves and our peers, how many can say truthfully that our intentions and focuses aren't selfish/superficial a lot of the time? I find myself looking in the windows of all these nice European stores and desiring all the new clothes on display, creating and daydreaming of a new personal wardrobe... when I just crated like a million pounds of clothes over here and am looking foine in 'em. It's just this outlook. Why do I think I need new clothes all the time? WHY would I even waste time including CLOTHING in my daydreams?! Why do we post statuses/articles about these issues we care about or the way we want the world/country/school/friendships to be, but then spend our time addressing our own interests?
Now I know that I do put thought and care into other things and try to give back, and I know a lot of my friends and other people do, too. Good on ya, but. I really don't think it's the priority for most people, as much as we spit fire against the people who disagree with us or get revved up when we see things that go against our beliefs, we aren't seeking these things with our full heart at other times.
I should be on fire for my beliefs, my faith, my life at all times, not only when I realize someone's trying to extinguish it.

There is a truth, there can be peace, and there will be justice. 

 just sights from my walk to the interviewww

"So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth." Rev 3:16

Day 12: Archangels and Africans

A lazy and relaxing morning on the Feast of the Archangels turned into quite an eventful afternoon and evening.
First, Jenkins and I went shopping for the essentials. Then I was off to confession, adoration, and Mass at St. Peter's--all of which were great. I got home and began to prepare the cake I intended to bake for the feast day! (I don't need much of an excuse to enjoy baked goods) But I ran out of time and having just poured the batter into the pan, Jenkins and I now needed to ship off to meet the Rugby girl from yesterday (Eyejay is how her name sounds, but I have no idea how to spell it). We were headed to "Nox" a bar, for the African Caribbean Society's night of Karaoke and free drinks/food. It wasn't open upon arrival, apparently the coordinator had written 8pm when she meant for it to start at 9pm ("Nigerian time"/"African time" as everyone was calling it, and of which I just learned meant that Africans are always late so when you want someone there at 9, you need to tell them an hour or two before). Anyways, we went back to the flat to put my cake in, and sat until it was done backing, then took it out to let it cool so we would have it when we got back from the bar.
It was a hilarious night of karaoke, where no one would let just the person on the mic sing, but basically instead a too-small room crammed with too many people all having a very loud sing-along. The demographics in themselves were hilarious. There were a couple awkward white guys, one other white girl and then me, the crazy whitey who was taking the karaoke stage by storm. Jenkins and I sung Ignition by R. Kelly, and then Eyejay and I sang Love Story by T. Swift in an attempt to keep the crowd from singing along, so we could have the spotlight to ourselves...It only partially worked. And then later two middle-aged whities came in and cougar-ed up the place.

We left that dark oven of a room a couple minutes before the event was going to end, and then partied in the main area of the bar, dancing to the great music+saxophonist for a while until some "VIP's" needed the couches where our coats were laying. Thinking the necessary pick up of our gear for some washed up oldies claiming to be important people and taking our seats was a good cue to leave, we were off to enjoy our cake.
So we ate chicken and cake and talked until 2, when Eyejay left to go home and I went to sleep.

She eats the chicken BONE!!! Says it's normal in Nigeria? What?

Day 11: Catalogue Dialogue

I awoke again on Friday to get to 9am classes and was greeted into the classroom by one of the cheeriest and flattering remarks someone can make to you, "You're not a morning person, are you?" It's true though, I can't deny, my classmates jokes about me seeming tired and out of sorts were true. It was too early and I was dreading being on campus for so many hours and with no food as I had run out of time to pack a lunch.
Quickly though, my fatigue faded upon the entrance of Sir Alan MacLennan. The lecturer for the cataloguing half of my "Cataloguing and Classification" Module. (Not actually a Knight except in my heart), but for those of you back home, I completely see this guy's potential to reach a level of esteem reached by none other than Chuck Whipkey, Jack Bales, and maybe not Jean Ann, but...close.
Assuming his position at the front of the classroom, the hour lecture seems to be proceeding with all marks of postgraduate officialism.  Then you realize the link he was bringing up on the screen was an Alice Cooper song. He looked over the roll sheet and let out a sigh of relief that there was no one in the class named Kevin. (He has a tendency to use Kevin as a derogatory term, apparently). Then, in his Scottish brogue, he excused himself in advance for letting out any small profanities ("well actually they usually end up being very long strings of profanity"). He was. HILARIOUS. And it is to be expected that, though most people laughed at his jokes, I was the one who continued to laugh, or let out a giggle five minutes after the fact just because I remembered what he said. He began to describe the course and define cataloguing, and alluded several times to the fact that cataloguing is one of the nerdiest branches of library studies: it is the creating of bibliographic records so that people can easily find the books and documents these records stand in for, seemingly the quintessential librarian duty, a position upheld by those that MacLennan described as the leather elbow jacket-wearing, pipe-smoking folks, ("and the men aren't any better" haHA!), as the specialists that view card catalogues as sacred artifacts and collect them for their homes. However, he did mention that they like beer, so that could be a good thing for potential fun times, discussing the Dewey Decimal over some draughts.

After his lecture, I had three hours to kill before the next one. Not enough time to go home and do anything productive, so I went upstairs to find a "Silent study only" room in the library, tucked away in a back corner to have some peace, and opened the pages of my creased and worn copy of Wuthering Heights. Reading for two hours, my eyes had reached the point where they could barely stay open, and my head was consistently bobbing down to my chest. So, I did as any normal person would do...I pulled two chairs together, curled up, and laid down, falling asleep in the middle of the day in a school library. Luckily, as I napped, a boy came and sat at the same table under which I was sleeping, and I can only imagine what he thought as he entered the silent study area and saw it was being used for cat naps. I awoke, laid for a few moments thinking how I should pop up from such circumstances without it being completely awkward, and realizing it wasn't possible, I lifted my body, bid him a "Good Morning" as I donned my scarf and jacket, and made my way off to my next lecture.

After school was over, I got home, lazed around, read some more, and was ushered to one of Jenkins' friends' "Rugby game" against my will, only to find out upon arrival that it wasn't even a game! Not even a scrimmage! He was purposely conniving; we showed up to watch maybe the first practice of the year with about 10 girls, half of which had never played rugby before and were just joining the squad this year. Great entertainment...not.
But the evening looked up upon arrival home again. Jenkins cooked some chicken, I baked some delicious fries (chips), and we had our own little dance parties from everything from Alicia Keys to Blue Oyster Cult. It was hilarious, and then I slept.

Day 10: Let's Take a Moment

and reflect. I've been here for 10 days now. They've been grand, they've been super, they've been uneventful and quite eventful. They've been expensive, they've been cheap. We've had the worst of times, we've had the best of times.

But most necessarily I must address a few pressing questions that have been weighing on my mind about my experiences so far in this wild wonderland of Scottish fantasies:
1) Why have I not seen more than a handful of gingers? Is that Ireland? I swore Scotland would be full of 'em.
2) How is my Kasual Kilt-wearing Kount only up to 3?!
3) HOW DO THESE "PEOPLE" LIVE IN A WORLD WITHOUT CANDY CORN? Alright, mayyybe I can let it slide that they don't have Dairy Queens to fulfill the Blizzard cravings which will arise, and when they arise they shall clutter my conscious and plague my very being at all moments without rest, never ceasing until a long-awaited fate of frozen fulfillment can be reached upon an arrival back in the States. But I digress, if I can let a transgression such as this pass, I can certainly not conceive or bear a reality where the non-existence of candy corn on October shelves is permitted! I shall find it, and I won't rest until I do.
4) When will I buy a notebook for the taking of notes in lecture? My moleskine encourages far too much doodling in my already doodle-prone pen.

If I were Scottish, and had a Scottish accent and lived in Scotland with a Scottish family and birthed a Scottish lass, I would name her Sarah. Because I'm entranced by the way the Scottish accent enhances this name. SAYrruh (with a trill of the "r"s) so pretty.

I find myself thinking in some sort of Abi-manufactured Scottish accent. In all sorts of thoughts. Not just when I'm speaking with someone who has an accent. Just whenever. And it sounds quite convincing in my head, but I don't think my tongue would be able to produce the same results aloud.