Awkward....

For the first time in my three-year undergraduate career, I ended up in the wrong room for the wrong class. I was trying to be at the Group 6 tutorial meeting for my Statistical Methods Class, in Room 5325 of JCMB, at 4pm on Thursday. This is where I was told to go. Apparently, this is not where I was supposed to be, for after the professor passed back all the graded work, I still hadn't received mine. After checking my name against his various rosters, which mainly consisted of asking me if I was one of the five girls enrolled in the class ("Are you Claire Fergusson?" "No..." "Elaine Rodgers?" "No... maybe check under--" "Let's see, you're Maggie Wu?" "Uh, no..."), my crazy scottish professor determined that I wasn't enrolled in any of his tutorials. I decided to shorten the pain, told him I'd figure out the trouble myself with the course secretary, and dashed out of there. And of course I was the only girl in the room (it's a 2nd year maths course, I mean come on). Nothing says "dumb American" like a blonde with roots in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Did I say roots? Yes. After 9 weeks of teaching swimming this summer, outside 4 hours each day, the sun had gifted my hair with a platinum sheen usually reserved for the beach bunnies and movie stars of SoCal. While this hair color is natural, this is not the color that my hair grows out as. Normally this wouldn't matter too much since I'm out in the sun all the time in California enough so that it more or less balances out, but grey Scotland has taken its toll. So now I've got a nice inch or so of sandy blonde-ness at the base of my mane. Plus my tan's fading too. Come Christmas, I'll involuntarily have a whole new look: pale and dark-haired. (Well, darker haired, I'm not going goth or anything.)

In terms of the weather, it's so windy you have to walk with your head down, ploughing your way through the wind, squinting your eyes lest you get some dust, leaves, or I daresay your own hair blown into your face. The fall leaves are everywhere, though not on the ground very much. It's "raining biotic bullets from the sky" as it was so eloquently put by some of my lovely fellow djs on Fresh Air, the student radio station.

Also went to go see The Datsuns last night, at this really cool little venue, called Cabaret Voltaire. They put on really really good show, and the lead guitarist even came out to the pub with us afterwards! See? It does pay to be in the radio station! The opening band, The Sound Explosion, was quite good as well. It's the first concert I've been to since our John Peel Night, but that doesn't really count 'cause I was working the door half the time -- so I count this as the first proper concert I've been to since coming to Edinburgh. It was good fun, and I absolutely always love live music.