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.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
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.
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