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.