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.

Day 9: Turn Around

So many turn arounds today, of the literal and metaphorical senses.

I went to the part time job fair at campus, where I filled out a bunch of applications, feeling pretty productive and in high hopes about getting a job, and guess what I turn around and I've already heard back from one place who wants an interview!, and I then went back to City Centre on the bus to the bank to set up an account. Where I realized I didn't have my passport, but I know I had it at the job fair. CRAP. I LOST MY PASSPORT. I lost my passport...I LOST. my. PASSPORT. Then the application at the bank blanked out on me anyways, so there's one more thing not accomplished. Oh well, I have to do something, turn around I have to find this passport. Almost break down in the bank, almost break down on the way home, hold it in, call my mom, talk to mom, she calms me down. It'll be okay. Almost break down anyways. No, turn around, go back to the campus. Get there. They see me and they know I'm looking for my passport! They have it! Turn around, go back home! One tragedy for the day cured. Get into bed, continue reading Wuthering Heights. Feel like bum-bum. Olivia skypes me, turn around, feeling better, she's a cheerer-upper. It's almost time for the young adult thing at St. Peter's. Go. Still feel low and a little nervous about my entrance into this unknown dominion of Scottish Catholics. Turn around! They're great. All super friendly. Adoration begins, TURN AROUND--Why you feelin' low, Abi? "for with the Lord is UNFAILING LOVE"/ "when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, 'Lord, save me!' IMMEDIATELY Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him, and said to him, 'O you of little faith, why did you doubt?'"
Adoration is over, walk out of the worship space, and make the decision quickly, do I keep walking and just exit smoothly? Or do I hesitate and stand for those awkward few moments not knowing what to do before someone will talk to me. Wait. Good decision. Great people! First real friends!
This community of young Catholics seems like it will be great and a vital necessity to me during my time here. They're active, they're friendly, they're funny, and they like food! All good things. Turn around and walk out the door with my new friend Rachel; it was her first time at the Young Adult group, too. She's a second year at Aberdeen Uni. A Glaswegian, or Weegie, as I learned they call themselves from Glasgow.

Oh! and literally three people today didn't think I was American. I introduced myself to the first guy I saw at St. Peter's and he asked where I was from and I said America, and he said "Oh, you don't sound American," and then Father Keith thought I was Irish?! He musta not heard me too well. And then another girl said she couldn't tell, eitherrr. I'm pretty sure I sound Amurican. I ain't got no accent. America is accent-free; y'all are the ones who be talkin' funny.

Kinda silly though. Maybe I'm just such an international spirit, it emanates.

Class tomorrow will be early, but it will be good.

Goodnight, world.

Day 8: Its Official

Had my first class today. It was as good as a class can be, I think.

I read and took a nap again today. Cooked dinner again today. Ate berries again today.
Got myself organized. No class tomorrow but lots of errands and stuff to do.


No pictures again today.

Today today today tomorrow.
Hey, Scotland, here I come.

Day 7: Monday Funday

Today was an Aberdeen public holiday. So no school for me still. Jenkins and I went to Union Square, a mall type place, to check out the SWEET DEALS FOR STUDENTS. We got to go to a movie, FO' FREE, but the movie was "Killing Them Softly," and it was horrible. No thanks, Brad Pitt. Oh well, it was FREE.
We also got a bunch of free food samples from the different restaurants. Lunch, yum.
Then for dinner we headed over to a church on Union street that was hosting a welcome dinner for International students. A bunch of the Christian churches from the area got together to put it on, and it was a nice little get together, plus I got free food, didn't have to cook, and TWO desserts--Whapow.
Got some contact info from a couple people and made some friendies that I will hopefully meet again. There's a Christian dealio on Tuesday nights with RGU students meetin', so I might go check that out tomorrow.
OTHERWISE------classes start tomorrow and I gotta be there by 9. So, ughhh, I gotta wake up early, make breakfast, eat it, get dressed, and get to the bus by like 8:30. Wish me luck.

No pictures.

Day 6: Explore. Dream. Discover.

My weekend has been full of those three things. I've done much exploring and discovering; Aberdeen is beginning to make sense to me, at least the City Centre where I live. And I've ventured outside of it in a few directions, too.
On Friday, I had to be at school by 9:30, to gruelingly get through the last of the necessary steps to become a legitimate student at Robert Gordon University. My passport was cleared, and I was instructed on many educational and pertinent topics, none the least pertinent of which was the possibility of TB in international students. Except I'm from 'MURICA. and there's like less than 25 cases of TB every year. But that's okay, it was only one of the many, boring sessions I had to sit through.
I got home around 4, and might have taken a nap--that's where the "Dream" part of the post title comes in. I've done quite a bit of sleeping. However, after dinner, I was chilling in the apartment, takin' it easy, and then Jenkins invited me to go out with him and some of his friends, so I agreed, but he had locked his keys into his bedroom and was wearing a white tee and flip flops and sweatpants. Needing to change we waited about an hour and a half for someone to come let him in his room, and so it was about 12 before we got out on the town. We went into one club, danced, watched ridiculous people dance ridiculously, then we headed to the Student Union to check out the party that is always bumping below us as we try to sleep, but the place was practically deserted, so we just walked around and then made a food stop where Jenk got some pizza to cook and I got a box of cereal. We went home and dined and watched a Bill Burr stand up routine on Netflix, at Jenkins' suggestion. Won't do that again, but thanks anyways Jenkins. By the time I went to bed it was 4 am.
So on Saturday I slept til 12, and then got out and took a long walk to the Girdleness Lighthouse. I sat on the coast for a while taking in the glorious view and embracing the breeze even though it was colder than any beach would be at this time of the year back home, and chilling my fingers. I then explored Aberdeen's "Coastal Path" which is a foot path that follows the Aberdeen Coast for I don't know how long. I was the daintiest flower as I traversed this path so gracefully in my flowing skirt. Sinking into black mud, slipping on the dewy grass and almost falling down the slanted cliffs, death-gripping onto daisy stems or long grasses or anything in my reach so as not to fall back to the water's rocky edge from whence I came. My sanuks were covered in mud, my feet were soaking wet, but my spirits were high, and my sense of direction was only slightly befuddled, with the coast and the lighthouse as reference.

I awoke chipper this morning for my first mass in Scotland. St. Peter's is less than a 10 minute walk from my apartment and I got to the old church and fell in love with the global awesomeness of the Catholic Church. Not only were we in Scotland, but there were so many different nationalities at mass, I guess because this is an oil and university town and draws people from all over. It was great. The Catholic Church is the Catholic Church everywhere, and its great.
So then I got home from church and....took a ...nap? For five hours. Whoops.

If you look closely here you will see three girls out swimming! No wetsuits or anything! I better get on it!

I don't have class tomorrow still because of the Aberdeen Holiday. The possibilities are endless.

Day 3: Friends!

I begrudgingly started the day with my alarm going off at the hour of 6. Ha. Turned that one off. (Told you I wouldn't make it to 7am mass.) And then slept until around 8:10 when I had to get up to get ready for the day which began at 10. One delicious breakfast later and I was out the door, alongside Jenkins, both headed for the bus stop to make it to the Garthdee campus by 10 o'clock. The commute is just over 20 minutes by bus, and I got there with about 15 minutes to spare before the beginning of my course information session.
In this session, I met the leaders of the course as well as everyone who is on the journey to get their MSc Information and Library Studies with me. There are around 20 of us. I'm the only one from the US, but there's a Canadian girl, a Grecian, a couple Irelanders, one Bulgarian, one Frenchie, annd I think the rest from around the UK either England or Scotland. This session calmed some of the anxiety that had started to exist due to the fact that I really had no idea what I was getting into. But as the course description that I read so long ago mentioned, this program starts at the very beginning, building from the ground up. The faculty seem very nice and super willing to help the students, the class schedule is not too shabby, and the way the program is set up doesn't seem like it will be anything I can't handle.
The one curveball I was thrown was when he asked how many of us were planning on doing our dissertation to get our Master's rather than stopping after the taught semesters with just a graduate diploma and all of us raised our hands so he began to talk about the dissertation. Due the first week of October. OCTOBER?! WHAT? My lease. Ends August 30. Laurel's wedding, is September 7. I thought. I. Uh... Oh, what? We don't have to be here AT ALL during the dissertation time period? We can turn the thing in electronically? Well good! Though I'm still stuck here til August due to my lease, when I now realize I really only have to stay til June for the program, it is good this way, because I will stay focused and in a good work environment and not kill my momentum by moving back home or anything.
There was a long break between that session and the IT one which came next. So I wandered around campus and then eventually found a bench upon which to sit, organize my thoughts, write out my schedule, poemize, and doodle. It was pleasant.
As we were waiting for the IT thang to start, I talked to several of my fellow Librarian Wannabe's and they all seem very nice. Yay- My first friends! Excited for classes to start on Tuesday....never thought I would hear myself say that. But other than waking up, I think it will be quite grand.
Also, I want a bike so I can stop paying for this stupid bus everyday.

PS Wish me luck on the weekend...Who KNOWS what I will do. Don't really want to be a bum though.

Day 2: Please Run Down the Hill Screaming

Today I awoke, only slightly chilly, on the right side of the bed. Literally. I usually sleep on the left but my bed had a lot of stuff on it, and it was easiest to push the stuff to the left when it became time for bed and I needed to spread my twin size fitted sheet out on top of a full size mattress.
I awoke and ate the free personal size box of Krave cereal that was in my welcome box from the university, and Jenkins was nowhere to be seen. Alas, I took my time, got ready, and then made my way to my campus for the first time. I rode the bus, but having really no idea about the fares I took an educated guess and threw some change into the bus' fare-taker, and the driver said nothing to me, so I was good to go. I got to the Garthdee campus and bummed around getting info and necessary knowledge for future ongoings.
Then I walked to the nearby supermarket and picked up some goods: full size sheets, towels, pillows, bathroom trashcan, and the like.
I took the bus back home and made the first homecooked meal in the apartment. It was delish. I hung around, figured out how to get wifi in my apartment, spoke with my mom, made plans to walk to the ocean before I went to the Young Adult group at St Peter's Catholic Church, cancelled my plans to walk to the ocean before the Young Adult group at St Peter's Catholic Church, took a nap instead, woke up, walked to the Young Adult group, but couldn't find the Parish House at which they said they meet, rebooked my plans to walk to the ocean, basically rock-climbed up Broad Hill and upon reaching the top, the North Sea opened up before me.
There were trails winding all around Broad Hill and signs every so often with funny statements/rules given by the Order of Me. Things like, "No Kissing on the hill" and then a few feet away "Don't Tell Anyone, but this is where my Ma and Pa first kissed" or "Just Think, a long time ago bears were here." All of them had on the bottom "By Order of Me." You will see the pictures below. I was laughing. I sat on a bench up top for a while, looking out at the sea, and watching some Scottish men playing "football" below. All I could hear from them was accent--couldn't really make out any words, just a lot of grunty, exclamatory Scottish. I liked it. I like accents. I like boys with accents. I know this one guy, back home, who has a pretty cute accent.
Once the sun set enough so that I could be certain my way home would be cradled by darkness and all the eerie that comes with it, I left my bench and descended from whence I came. Going down the dampened hill was a bit riskier than climbing it and with each step I knew I was going to fall, to slide, to end up on my face or butt somehow, and I knew the man approaching me would end up being my husband by the end of the movie, or just someone I completely embarrassed myself in front of for no reason... Do you vote option B, Thomas? Well, I didn't fall. Of course I didn't, who do you think I am? I knew I wouldn't fall, slide, or end up anywhere except for my own two feet like the graceful champion I am.
I stopped by another supermarket on the way home and picked up some hangers and dish soap/sponges. It's a tough life being so domestic.
Dinner was delicious. Only a slight variant of lunch, subtract yellow pepper, add onion, egg, and fajita seasoning. I just finished my dessert of apple, strawberry, and blueberry fruit salad.
Tomorrow I must awake earlier, get to school by 930 for enrolment and then sit through some course information sessions. I will see if it is possible for me to awake early enough to make it to 7 am mass. That could be pushing it, but anything could happen.

 Here's the link to the story behind the signs:
http://otheraberdeen.blogspot.co.uk/2011/02/by-order-of-me-at-broad-hill.html

oh and PS, they sell duvets for different seasons here, like "All Year" and "Winter"....like sleeping bags...this scares me for the cold that is yet to come. There was only ever one type of duvet in Virginia Beach......................

Next Chapter: Scotland

The days before my departure, heck, the WEEKS before my departure were seriously maybe the most stressful days of my life. Not only was there the stress of having to slowly and surely say bye to all of the people who have been most important in my life for a whole year, but then there was fiasco after fiasco in dealing with my visa, my accommodation, my flight. It was madness, but I got through it with a lot of prayers and only a few minor breakdowns.

Then. Yesterday came. It was finally here, the day I actually lifted off and said "Goodbye" to my homeland. Honestly, the thing I was scared of most was getting my bags from baggage claim to a taxi, for some reason this haunted me. I had three huge suitcases and two carry ons and could not foresee myself handling this with grace. One pound and a luggage trolley later and I was in the taxi fine.
Long story short, airports are annoying, blah, and THEN I WAS FLYING OVER SQUARES AND POLYGONS IN SHADES OF GREEN AND BROWN, DOTS OF WHITE WOOL LAZY ATOP THE CREEK VEINED GEOMETRY. I was taken to another life, a life where I was sitting in front of the TV watching Babe; I awoke as the crisp greens broke into a wiry brown stutter, waves breaking against. The ocean! MY ocean, thousands of miles away from where I left it-- it followed me, and here it was now on these unknown, craggy shores, rolling in just like home. Warmth crept up inside of me, and the nerves I had built up were dissolving.

I got into my apartment to find it empty, my roommate hadn't moved in yet, I guess. I took my time unpacking and resting, and then went for quite an excursion throughout the city. No instant GPS on my phone without the 3G capabilities presented by Verizon, I set out with no real destination or course in mind, and walked lost for a couple hours. It rained not 10 minutes after I began walking, but in another 10 minutes the rain had completely passed and it was a gorgeous day filled with beautiful, petite, hydrangea-laden gardens and rose beds on the sides of public streets, and street signs that read "Twenty's Plenty" or "Elderly People" or "Give Way," all official but all humorous in their own way.

I found the river (I say "the" river, but I don't know which river it is, or if there are any others, so it becomes the only until my horizons are broadened) and walked along it for a while, then followed the sight of a steeple above the other buildings to guide myself back to City Centre. On the way back home I stopped at an agreeable grocery store and bought some essentials.  It was about this time that I realized I needed to stop walking, after putting on so many steps from terminal to terminal and gate to gate in four different airports carrying a 40 pound carry-on plus a back pack on my back, not only were my shoulders and forearms aching under the not-so-heavy weight of the grocery bags, but the skin on my feet was beginning to yell at the canvas of my shoes, and the blisters did as they always do and got in the middle of that altercation.

I don't know how much I learned about the city on my outing today, but I think I familiarized myself at least a little bit. And I came to the understanding that children with Scottish accents are the cutest and save the fact that its not America, I could imagine it being pretty cool to grow up here. Everyone has been friendly so far, though I haven't spoken to many people at length yet. Which brings me to my next topic! Jenkins!
My roommate (Jenkins) arrived shortly after I got home. He's from NY but his parents are from Ghana and live there so he's kinda repping both places. We ate fish and chips together and got to know each other a little bit. He seems like he'll be a swell guy. I was already chilly, but by the time we had walked back from dinner I was almost freezing. I took a hot bath because I couldn't get the shower to spit out hot water. But it was super relaxing, and the scalding water that I filled the tub with from the faucet relaxed my muscles and raised my body temperature enough. The heat is working nicely in my room though, so I shouldn't freeze tonight. Though I am wearing long johns, wool socks, and a sweatshirt.

Tomorrow I have school-related stuff I have to go to. I'm excited.

My blogging changes a bit when I have a key board doesn't it?

Also, I don't feel jetlagged. I feel like I'm already on Scottish time. Score. We'll see if this continues.

And: Bonus of living in City Centre, I am listening to the jams and conversations/screams from the club/bar/party (?) behind us. They only listen to American music here.........................but duh.