Whew, am I tired. Knackered. Shattered. Kerplonked. You know. I'm even too tired to think of anymore "tired" slang terms. As Hard-Fi says, "I've been working all week and I'm tired." Nine hours a day, five days a week on my feet. Although, if it wasn't for the cd player in the stockroom I'd go mad -- the music in the shop drives me off the wall. Our big summer sale is getting kicked off soon, so that's going to be lots of fun. And by fun, I mean work. I've not really had a weekend to rest for awhile, either. Last weekend Stephanie came and visited me in Edinburgh and we had a grand time. Not going to get much rest next weekend, either, as I'm going to Paris for the first time since I was nine.
Also had a great day in Glasgow last week, visiting the radio show Tallah's working for. It's on the BBC. So Katie and I went to the BBC! The building is amazing, it's right on the Clyde River in Glasgow. Made me want to work for them. Or just any amazing radio station.
Other than that, my life has been gorgeously unexciting. Call me a scrubber, but I miss being able to go out on week nights and stay up past midnight. So what's coming up in my fascinating life? Going to see Nine Black Alps tomorrow night here in Edinburgh, Paris for the weekend, and lots and lots of of prep for Fresh Air coverage of the Edinburgh festeival. I'll be going part time in August when the festival is, so I can devote more time to my duties as Press offices Liason/Reviews Coordinator and as a festival crew member.
That's all I have the energy to write about tonight. More later when my life is thrilling again.
Sunday, July 8
Tuesday, July 3
Second Adventures in Dublin and the Night I Almost Spent in Glasgow's Bus Station
So I went to Dublin last weekend to visit my friend Stephanie, who I went to Eastern Europe with. It was a good weekend, but I was flying in and out of Glasgow Airport since that's where I could get the cheapest flight. In case you've had your head under a rock, this should explain why alarm bells should be going off in your head right now.
I flew to Dublin Friday night, so no problem there. Had a good weekend with Steph, did a little shopping, had a night out on Saturday, walked around Trinity College some on Sunday... all in all I really enjoyed my second trip to the city. Dublin seems like a very cool town, a good sized city that, while lacking huge numbers of tourist attractions, feels to me like it'd be a really cool place to live -- kind of like Edinburgh. Lots of culture, lots of energy... lots of pubs. Anyway, enough romanticizing about Dublin, I'm sure the winters (and summers) are just as cold as Scotland.
I was due to arrive back into Glasgow on Sunday night about 9.45, but thanks to flight delays I got in about half past 11. I'm still amazed that the airport was open and functioning, though I wish they'd re-routed my flight to Edinburgh. When I got in, the terminal was all cordoned off and smelt of burnt rubber. They weren't allowing traffic anywhere near the airport, so I and a bunch of other passengers had to walk over to a bus stop way out under some overpass, next to a gas station. Finally the airport bus comes and I get back into Glasgow Buchanan Street Bus Station about 20 past Midnight. Thinking that, like any other night of the week, there were busses at 1, 1.30, and 3am I'd be ok for getting back to town. Oh no.
So the 900 bus pulls up, and I head over to it to ask the driver if he's going back to Edinburgh right away since it was a bit early for the 1am bus. He looks at me and informs me that the next bus is at 5.30am. Clearly, at this point, I am screwed.
So I'm sitting in the bus station, not wanting to spend the night in the bus station, but least of all wander around Glasgow in the middle of the night looking for a place to stay or to catch a 100-odd pound taxi home. While considering my fate and how I was going to manage staying awake until 5am, a tour bus pulled into the station and one of the station workers came up and asked if I was trying to get back into Edinburgh. Hearing the desperationin my 'yes' he recommended that I go over to the coach that pulled in, as he had a hunch the driver was going back and that I might be able to get a lift. This was indeed the case, thankfully, and the driver (grudgingly) gave me a ride. So I arrived back into town well into the early hours of the night. And I say nothing good ever happens to me.
Why would you attack Glasgow? Honestly. I know it's the biggest city in Scotland, but the airport's not exactly a hub and as far as mental significance goes, Edinburgh is the capital. Besides, weegies aren't a good bunch to choose to mess with. They will go after you -- and they have knives.
Anyway, I'm safe now. At least when I fly to Paris in a couple of weeks it'll be in and out of Edinburgh.
I flew to Dublin Friday night, so no problem there. Had a good weekend with Steph, did a little shopping, had a night out on Saturday, walked around Trinity College some on Sunday... all in all I really enjoyed my second trip to the city. Dublin seems like a very cool town, a good sized city that, while lacking huge numbers of tourist attractions, feels to me like it'd be a really cool place to live -- kind of like Edinburgh. Lots of culture, lots of energy... lots of pubs. Anyway, enough romanticizing about Dublin, I'm sure the winters (and summers) are just as cold as Scotland.
I was due to arrive back into Glasgow on Sunday night about 9.45, but thanks to flight delays I got in about half past 11. I'm still amazed that the airport was open and functioning, though I wish they'd re-routed my flight to Edinburgh. When I got in, the terminal was all cordoned off and smelt of burnt rubber. They weren't allowing traffic anywhere near the airport, so I and a bunch of other passengers had to walk over to a bus stop way out under some overpass, next to a gas station. Finally the airport bus comes and I get back into Glasgow Buchanan Street Bus Station about 20 past Midnight. Thinking that, like any other night of the week, there were busses at 1, 1.30, and 3am I'd be ok for getting back to town. Oh no.
So the 900 bus pulls up, and I head over to it to ask the driver if he's going back to Edinburgh right away since it was a bit early for the 1am bus. He looks at me and informs me that the next bus is at 5.30am. Clearly, at this point, I am screwed.
So I'm sitting in the bus station, not wanting to spend the night in the bus station, but least of all wander around Glasgow in the middle of the night looking for a place to stay or to catch a 100-odd pound taxi home. While considering my fate and how I was going to manage staying awake until 5am, a tour bus pulled into the station and one of the station workers came up and asked if I was trying to get back into Edinburgh. Hearing the desperationin my 'yes' he recommended that I go over to the coach that pulled in, as he had a hunch the driver was going back and that I might be able to get a lift. This was indeed the case, thankfully, and the driver (grudgingly) gave me a ride. So I arrived back into town well into the early hours of the night. And I say nothing good ever happens to me.
Why would you attack Glasgow? Honestly. I know it's the biggest city in Scotland, but the airport's not exactly a hub and as far as mental significance goes, Edinburgh is the capital. Besides, weegies aren't a good bunch to choose to mess with. They will go after you -- and they have knives.
Anyway, I'm safe now. At least when I fly to Paris in a couple of weeks it'll be in and out of Edinburgh.
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