Since the last time I wrote, Scotland has presented times where I thought the snow would never stop and my feet would never dry and also times where I thought the sun could not be brighter and warmer. It might just be foolish hopes, but in general it feels like Spring might be trying to peak her little face into the calendar. The days are getting substantially longer in what seems like leaps each day. (To all the folks that thought the darkness would bring me down, break my spirit, or affect my happy disposition, to you I say simply, Haters gon' hate. It did no such thing!)
I'm in full swing into the second and final semester of taught courses here at the Robert Gordon University, and feelin' fine about it. This semester is a bit more stressful in the sense that it is cramped because of the month-long placement in April that we must be finished with lessons before. And speaking of that placement, as of now there are two options before me. Either working in the Aberdeen City Archives, or working on a Special Collection project at the University of Aberdeen. We shall see what the Lord provides and where He calls me!
Otherwise, Life, as usual, is a crazy whirlwind of thoughts, ideas, plans, dreams, and songs.
I went to karaoke both Friday and Saturday of last weekend, both times being impromptu escapades, but well worth it. I wish I could get paid to be the party picker-upper, aka whenever there is a lull in enthusiasm or people shying from the microphone, they'd just throw me into the spotlight and I'd rally the people from their whiskey-fringed timidity.
5 days ago was my 5-month anniversary of being in Aberdeen, which basically means that Time has slipped the blind over my eyes and gone rampaging forward without my consent. That rascal. Now that I've been here for a substantial amount of time, my friendships have also become substantial, and, even as I write this, a wormy feeling is growing in my stomach about leaving them. It's an awesome blessing to be able to develop these international friendships, but it also means that little pieces of my heart will be scattered across the globe, living between different date lines, and waking to different pieces of sky each day, never reunited as a whole again. Except maybe at my wedding or something, but even then, you can't expect everyone from California to India to be able to attend.
On the topic of broken hearts, y'all....Gone With the Wind. What. wut. whuuuuuuu.
Finished that near 1,000 page saga yesterday, loving everyone moment of it, if by love I mean being torn into more and more pieces at so many moments. I suggest everyone read it, and don't think about the page number, because really I wasn't bored once, and would have read it much faster if it didn't have grad school and sleep as competition. I won't spoil anything really. I will just say RHETT--WHY. ASHLEY--UGH. MELLY--WHYY. SCARLETT-WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
Song of the day: To Make Her Love Me- Rascal Flatts. (On shuffle on iTunes right now, and just let me say, I love when iTunes understands me so well, as it has been doing for the past half hour.)
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Day 133: Pride and Prejudice
So in the past 2 weeks I read Peter Pan and Pride and Prejudice, and while I would like to continue on the "P" title trend, I am headed to the library today with my sights on Gone With the Wind as a first choice or, if that's not in the stacks, another Austen.
I enjoyed Pride and Prejudice, mostly for the style of writing. I can't get enough of the language from that period. And since I have never seen the movie Pride and Prejudice either, I was kept in a bit of suspense as to how things would turn out, though it was no real surprise (*spoiler alert*) that the cold indifference of Darcy would melt away and that he, the best looking, most affluent man in the story, would end with Elizabeth, the voice of the novel and the cleverest girl. It had to happen. And I'm glad it did.
"Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness again, wanted Mr Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. 'How could you begin?' said she. 'What could set you off in the first place?'
'I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I know that I had begun.'
'My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on uncivil. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?'
'For the liveliness of your mind, I did.'"
Oh, if all rich, handsome men fell for smart girls because of their brains..
To finish my thoughts on the book, I will say, I wasn't so infatuated that I can understand why so many girls are so consumed by it. Jane Eyre is much better, but maybe that's because I relate with the heroine more closely. Or maybe it's just because Jane Eyre is da bessssst. I would like to read other works by Austen, because her writing is quite good and these other stories might excite me more.
PS I start classes tomorrow--Woo, Boy!
I enjoyed Pride and Prejudice, mostly for the style of writing. I can't get enough of the language from that period. And since I have never seen the movie Pride and Prejudice either, I was kept in a bit of suspense as to how things would turn out, though it was no real surprise (*spoiler alert*) that the cold indifference of Darcy would melt away and that he, the best looking, most affluent man in the story, would end with Elizabeth, the voice of the novel and the cleverest girl. It had to happen. And I'm glad it did.
"Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness again, wanted Mr Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. 'How could you begin?' said she. 'What could set you off in the first place?'
'I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I know that I had begun.'
'My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on uncivil. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?'
'For the liveliness of your mind, I did.'"
Oh, if all rich, handsome men fell for smart girls because of their brains..
To finish my thoughts on the book, I will say, I wasn't so infatuated that I can understand why so many girls are so consumed by it. Jane Eyre is much better, but maybe that's because I relate with the heroine more closely. Or maybe it's just because Jane Eyre is da bessssst. I would like to read other works by Austen, because her writing is quite good and these other stories might excite me more.
PS I start classes tomorrow--Woo, Boy!
Monday, October 8, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
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.
"So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth." Rev 3:16
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, September 24, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
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.
I don't have class tomorrow still because of the Aberdeen Holiday. The possibilities are endless.
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! |
Thursday, September 20, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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......................
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.
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......................
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
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.
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.
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