Exams, Finals, Over

That's right, you heard it, I'm a free woman! Now that exams are over, I don't have to think about them or worry about how I got a song stuck in my head halfway through my last exam: "The input of sunlight into aquatic ecosystems is... a tiny pony. NO, no no no, why did I write that?" The song in question is a spoof piece, called "Tiny Pony" (which you can download by clicking here), done by Tim from Narnia, one of people from Fresh Air. It's quite good, except when it comes to explaining how and why aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems differ and generally helping me on my Ecology exam.

Oh well. It's off to Barcelona for me for the weekend, if I can possibly get Ryanair to quit being so unhelpful. Long, boring, bothersome story not inserted here.

A Day in the Life of Scotland in December

Listen, I'm not kidding when I say the days getting really short. So here's a photo-blog to let you know exactly how short said instances of sun are. Tuesday, December 5th was a nice, sunny day, by Scottish winter standards. I've put on the "Date/Time" marker on the pictures so you can see exactly what it's like, as viewed from the window in my room.

6:04am.


7:18am. Still dark. (All you can see is the reflection of my curtains in the window.)












8:03am. Sunrise is scheduled for 8:24am.












9:10am. Still no sign of the sun.... Ahh, 9:43, here we go.












10:11am.











One hour later: 11:11am.

12:18pm. Finally, it's the afternoon.

1:02pm... Hey, sun....where ya going?

2:44pm. Ahem.

3:16pm. Sunset is at 3:40pm

4:16pm. Wait, seriously?

5:08pm. Pitch black again. Sigh.


I've discovered that here in Scotland the sun doesn't rise and fall; it goes side to side a few inches above the horizon. I just felt I needed to dramatize this point for you. Enjoy the sun, wherever you are on this earth thats less than 55 degrees North!

p.s. sorry for the strange formatting...

Labo(u)r of Love?

Or just two more nights' worth of insomnia? At any rate, I've put some pictures up of my time in Edinburgh so far. These two measly albums are far from complete as I've stupidly forgotten to bring my camera to a number of events, but beggars can't be choosers, can they? Also unfortunately, I've not included any pictures from my trip to The Highlands, as I'm still whittling the list of photos down (made it from 363 to 150... still got a long way to go).

September through Halloween:
http://ucla.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2110205&l=56cba&id=2507142

Halloween through December:
http://ucla.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2110286&l=62128&id=2507142

Enjoy!

Weekends

Ok, so this one isn't over yet, but I don't anticipate it getting very exciting.

These are some notes I wrote to myself last weekend about what to write in my blog for y'all:

saturday thanksgiving ceilidh (strip the willow!)
sunday's trouncing rugby victory
sunday night sky, beautiful blue colors
saw the sun again today!

I've got a general sense of what they mean, here's what I make out in translation: Last Saturday I went to a Thanksgiving lunch/Ceilidh (pronounced "kay-lee") that was hosted by the UC Study Centre here. Basically, I got to catch up with all the other California students on EAP (who I met at orientation in September) and then got to do some Scottish dancing. The Ceilidh band was made up of a fiddler, accordionist, and drummer (with just a snare), and were very nice and called the steps for us (think like in square dancing). Anyway, my favorite dance that I learned is called Strip the Willow (Shetland Style) and basically is linking arms and spinning around with each person down a long line. You're so dizzy by the end you just almost have to fall over; it's the greatest.

Last Sunday we (finally) won one of our rugby matches against a club team, Melrose, and it was by a sizeable margin. I forget what that margin was, but they didn't score (although they scratched and stomped like they expected to). As I was walking home from the pitch, I was struck by the beauty of the colors in the sky: the sun was down in the west, but there was a line of clouds sitting above the houses, making half the sky turquoise and the other half a dark navy blue. Ok, so it was only about 4:15pm, but I swear it was gorgeous. Oh, and the sun came out earlier that day, before it started raining in the rugby match.

So that sums up last weekend, but these past few days have been filled by food, mostly. Thursday night was our rugby Christmas dinner, officially, and celebration for winning SUSA, unofficially. We had a fantastic time, with dinner, drink, presents, and general debauchery. Friday, I again had an epic meal, as it was late-Thanksgiving at my friend Katie's flat. A whole bunch of people turned up, including a whole mess of Americans, (doing what we do best), bearing food. Two turkeys, two heaps of mashed potatoes, two vats of stuffing, and two pumpkin pies were there when I arrived, to which I added two pans of cornbread and a whole mess of candied sweet potatoes. And I got there early. Suffice to say a Scotland-held-American-Thanksgiving still knows no meaning of the word "moderation," which makes me happy. I did have to walk across town to find a Mexican deli to buy the cornmeal to make the cornbread, but it was SO worth it. Good food, good friends, cheap wine (hey, give us a break, we're students) all made for an enjoyable evening, with most people buggering off by about 9 to go home and sleep it off.

Today, however, I've chosen to convalesce at home as my chest cold decided to make a particularly nasty resurgence. I think I've been only been awake a total of four or five hours today, and that was just to make some tea. Hopefully I will feel well enough to get out and/or study tomorrow; exams wait for no illness.

That's all, over and out.

Windy City

Today the wind is violent enough to strip the bark off the trees, and I'm surprised it hasn't yet. Not a lot of rain, but it's blustery enough to make you feel like any contact your feet have with the pavement is a blessing. Everyone's hair dances above them like spirits trying to escape from the tops of their heads.

At least it's not raining.

SUSA Champs!!! Wahey!!

I have excellent, important news: Today's 91-0 rugby victory over Stirling University made us, the Edinburgh University Ladies Rugby Football Club, the rugby champions of the Scottish University Sports Association. Not only that, but we are undefeated and not a single try (or even point) was scored against us. What does this all mean? We (1) get a fancy trophy, (2) are going to have an awesome night out tomorrow after our Christmas Dinner social, but more importantly (3) go into the BUSA Playoffs. (BUSA = British Uni. Sports Assoc.) There's two playoff rounds, quarterfinals, semis, and then the finals at Twickenham(!!!!) in London. Oh, we're so gonna make it. It's a tough road, but we're going into BUSA with the best record we've ever had, the only shut out win of SUSA we've ever had, a lot of talent, and a deep bench. Having lots of awesome subs is the most important, especially since last year we lost against (I think) Leeds Metropolitan Uni by 3 points with four starters injured and off the pitch (including the fly-half with a dislocated knee). I'm so excited. The first match is sometime in early March... which gives me enough time to start a weights program after Xmas break. Bring it on.

Here's me jumping in the line out (first pod, with superlifters Bunty and Lucy) during warm-ups:


And here we are, after the match! (note the bloody knees, their pitch was really gritty, argh):


I'm so excited. I think I'm going to go have some cookies to celebrate.

Thanksgiving

I attended what is perhaps the oddest combination of events yesterday. Of course, Thanksgiving is not at all a British holiday, so classes and business as usual were all in order and on schedule. A little after 5pm, I headed over to the Princes Street Gardens to watch them switch on the Christmas lights, which was supposed to take place at 5:15. Things were running late, as is expected with these sorts of events, so the "program" started at 5:20. This "program" consisted of several exhibitions by local figure skaters/ice dancers of various skill levels, including a synchronized skating team called Starz! and a snowman who lazily zig-zagged around waving at people for 3 minutes to music. Eventually the fireworks went off and the 7-year-old 4th place winner of some recent competition threw the switch and all the lights in the trees and rides nearby came on. A lovely spectacle, but I had icicle stumps for feet by the time it was all over.

I stumbled home on my immobile feet and began helping to cook Thanksgiving dinner. Some of the girls in the other flats organized a big dinner for all of us on the floor. Obviously, since corners had to be cut and various jobs delegated, the end result wasn't quite traditional. Our flat was in charge of vegetable dishes, so my two English flatmates took it upon themselves to make cooked carrots, leeks in cheese sauce, and baked parsnips. I don't even know what parsnips tastes like. Anyway, I couldn't stay for the actual dinner itself, so I did miss out on the chicken, peanut butter cookies, and parnsips. Yep, that's what happens when you leave Thanksgiving to the Brits. I got some of the leftovers when I came back from my previously scheduled evening plans.

Last night, I attended the Edinburgh University Amateur Boxing Club's Fight Night 2006 to see one of my rugby teammates make her boxing debut. It was a sold out event, with music and an MC and a real ring and referees in silly white pants and bowties. When Leah entered the ring we yelled and cheered, and then cheered her all the way through the fight. The bell rang, signalling the end of the final round and we anxiously awaited the judges' results... drumroll, please... it wasn't scored because it was a ladies' exhibition match. What?! That's some real old bullshit! That disappointment aside, Leah fought a great fight and it was the most exciting fight of the evening. I sort of expected to see a hint of the "majesty" or "beauty" in the sport that is always mentioned in movies like Rocky or Million Dollar Baby, but basically it was just a bunch of guys trying to give each other black eyes. In terms of gracefulness, I still prefer rugby.

So, figure skating and boxing, cooking and then having left-overs for Thanksgiving. Not a bad night.

In other news, I saw the sun today! Yes, it's really been that long.

Oh, nothing important...

No, really, nothing exciting is going on in my life, I just realized that October had about 20 blog entries while November has something like 4. I'm just trying to make up for the disparity.

We had a rugby game today against St. Andrew's, and beat them 29-0 or 37-0 (I forgot to count). Either way, we shut them out. It was a scrappy game on a very muddy field, the kind that just sucks your feet in and makes it 20 times harder to run. Now we're all knackered and can't move, myself included.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the good ol' US of A, but tomorrow is only the first of two Thanksgiving dinners I'm actually going to be attending. I'll be honest, I don't mind, even though it means I'm going to have to cook twice.

My hair is growing out in a lovely shade of sandy blonde, and now I've got between 1.5 and 2 inches of it. Roots, anyone?

Um... that's about it. I'm sitting at my desk eating chocolate buttons. I've got to finish a paper before I go out tonight. That's my exciting Scottish life for you all!

Oh, and I'm going to Barcelona for a few days in December after exams. Que bueno!

Who needs better blogging motivation than Insomnia?

It's 6.15am and I can't sleep, so I suppose a nice update-y blog is at least somewhat better than lying in bed and staring at the ceiling.

I'm absolutely loving being in Edinburgh, it's a fantastic city. Pretty much every day when I'm walking down the street I look around and just think, wow, I'm really here. The city is gorgeous, with the various styles of architecture and long windy streets. Sure, it's frustrating that the same road changes names with every bend, every three or four blocks, but to be honest it's just part of what makes Edinburgh funky and unique. (For example, the street I live on is South Clerk Street, then Clerk Street, then Nicholson Street, then South Bridge, and then North Bridge as you travel northwards from my flat, all in less than a twenty-minute walk.) And speaking of walking, that's about all I do here to get around. If it's raining hard (which doesn't happen nearly as often as I thought it would) or I'm going some distance away or I'm really really lazy I'll consider hopping on the bus, which is easy as pie as it's only £1 and the busses go everywhere. But other than that, I walk, especially since I have all my classes down at King's Buildings (called "KB" for short, they're all the university science and engineering buildings). They're a 25-30 minute walk south of my flat, so I spend a good hour or so on foot every day. Now that it's November, it's cold and windy a lot, but after a couple of minutes at brisk pace you warm up and, to be honest, it's really quite enjoyable. It gives me time to think and listen to new music and look at the sky and the cool buildings I walk past.

On to the weather. As previously mentioned, November = wind + chill + chilly rain. Though I have gained an appreciation for walking, I haven't yet extended the same warm feeling towards the weather. The bad news is that it's going to get colder. A lot. (And maybe even some snow.) The good news is that I bought an amazing red scarf that's about 6 feet long, 18 inches wide, and practically an inch thick. To top it off, it's fuzzy and soft and was cheap at H&M. Essentially, this is going to allow me to spend the winter looking like a yenta or a furry red mummy from the neck up. But there's more bad news: the days are short and getting shorter fast. It's dark if I get up too early in the morning, the sun starts setting around 3:30, and it's dark before 5pm. Gaaaah.

It's getting late into the semester and everyone is swamped with work. Essays, projects, presentations, and just plain old studying (or "revision" as they call it here) for exams are in the house. I myself am lucky enough to be similarly blessed, with an Ecology paper and Stats assignment both due Monday, on top of everything else. Wahey.

I'm keeping up decently with the news and zeitgeist at home via any news that's big enough to break on the international version of BBC, a few of my favorite columnists (Mark Morford, Dan Savage, and a few others), and online episodes of South Park. I do miss California (and its weather), UCLA, NorCal, wearing flip flops in the rain (I think my feet would fall off or shatter if I did that here), my friends, my parents, my pets, burritos, sushi, dim sum, and plenty of other stuff about home in general. But y'know? It's worth it just to be here.

That's my life. It's not in shambles. (Although I am in dire need of a pair of slippers... my feet are constantly cold...)

The Week of Silence

Sorry, everyone, for being so remiss in updating you all to my every doing. In my defence, this is how I felt this week:



Yep, my bag lady reputation is unrequiteably international. Hoo-rah. (It only works it if you say it like Jamie Foxx in "Jarhead.")

SO I've done lots of stuff this past week, like:
-Climb up Arthur's Seat to watch the fireworks across the city for Bonfire Night, and fortunately climb back down before the brush fire (caused by a stray firework getting blown into the dry gorse. "No DUH" say the Californians.)
-Ended up in the wrong lecture (NOT AGAIN! I swear the universe is shifting on me as the days get shorter...)
-Had my first radio broadcast on Fresh Air (Aherm, if you missed it, you can catch it every Tuesday on www.FreshAir.org.uk from 9-10.30pm GMT!)
-Been in battle with a nasty cold that's trying to convince my lungs to escape from my chest via coughing fits
-Ran headfirst into a Dundee Uni player during a rugby game in an attempt to do something useful (instead giving myself some nasty headaches); but we still won 12-0, so all's well that ends well, eh?
-Attended the Edinburgh Uni Men's Rugby Ball with the ladies' team, in all its vomitous squalor (them, not us)
-Shared a lovely (and gratis) evening meal with the lovely ladies of my rugby team, (pre-men's rugby ball). It was much more civilized.
-Err, and lots of other stuff I'm sure!

But when not feeling like crap, I'd say I clean up quite well! For contrast, here's some of us ladies at the rugby ball (note the terrible lack of sobriety in the background):



Coming up in the next few days (so you can pre-emptively live vicariously through me) I'm going to the Scotland v. Romania Rugby Match at Murrayfield (THE Scottish Rugby Stadium), playing a rugby game in Glasgow, and then going to see Art Brut in Glasgow. Quite a bit of rugby and quite a bit of Glasgow! Sometimes I wonder what city I live in!

Last thing, I swear. I've also discovered the TV show Little Britain which is hilarious. I highly recommend it, it's a great show about Brits spoofing Brits. (You can find links to it here, but shhhh...) The best quote? "Fancy a holiday and all the seats to the Arctic are booked? Why not try Scotland!" Ahh yes, winter is soon to be upon us here.

Of Utmost Importance!

Listen up, people! Yours truly has just gotten her own radio show on Fresh Air! It's called "Rhymes With -Unk" and is on Tuesday nights, 9-10:30pm here, which means it's on 1-2:30pm in California and 4-5:30pm on the East Coast. I expect you all to listen! No excuses! Just go to www.FreshAir.org.uk to tune in. (And if you want, you can be a creepy stalker and check out the webcam on there as well.)

Regarding the name of my show:
I'll play mostly old funk and punk
Maybe even a li'l crunk
(Though I think it's mostly junk)
NO, I won't show up drunk.
Also, philosophical musical discussions
about which I've thunk.

Anything I'm missing? Maybe an interview with a hunk?

Halloween and STUFF

Halloween, here in Scotland, is a much more pagan celebration than in the US. Rather, there is a pagan celebration for Halloween. Tuesday night, I and a few friends went to watch the procession, which snaked its way down from the Royal Mile to The Mound. You're supposed to follow the parade down to a stage for a little theater, where Winter battles and defeats Summer or something symbolic like that. There were four main groups: green nymphs, red devils, black wolves (some on stilts, some as drummers with really cool white face paint), and some white angelic/druid-y looking people in flowy robes. Oh, and there were also a few people in blue who ran around the whole procession hitting people in the crowd with large branches. I'm not even kidding. Anyway, each group put on it's symbolic bit of theater, most of which I had a hard time seeing as I was buried halfway back in the crowd. However, I did eventually get a little closer in time to see the battle between two green men wearing only kilts and weilding a variety of weapons, including swords, sticks, and a flaming ball on the end of a length of chain. One defeated the other by choking him with his bare hands, then a blue lady came onstage, revived the dead one, and "married" the victor. Oh, and there were giant, flaming antlers as the backdrop on the stage and crazy pagan drumming and singing as the soundtrack. It was pretty sweet and like nothing I've ever seen, to say the least. Best part? This happens again, and in about three-fold size, in May. The closest equivalent I can draw for you readers at home is that it was like a Berkeley Co-op party. Except about 40,000 times cooler. And with less nudity.

Then guess who I saw down at the Hermatige Braid during my Ecology project on Wednesday morning? I'll give you a hint, they were dancing around a bonfire, naked, and several still had body paint.

OhMANohmanohmanOHman I am going to FREEEEEZE when winter actually gets here. The past couple of days, the weather has been unusually cold (in the 30s) and I've been just holding on. As soon as I stepped outside on Tuesday, all intentions of holding out and keeping my winter coat in my closet until the mid-November flew away about as quickly as a plastic bag in a tornado. I do have more jumpers I can pile on underneath my coats, thank goodness, so I'm not at a complete loss for future warmth, though I could probably do with a few more thermal shirts.

Also in the climate front, the days have already begun to be massively shorter. It's only November 2nd, and the sun doesn't rise until about 7:30am, and begins to set around 4:30pm. It is completely dark by 5:30. You look out the window at 6pm and you think, "Agh! Where did the day go?! It's night, I have to start getting ready to go out! Oh, wait... it's only 6:04. I've still got 4 hours..." Before I know it, the sun's gonna be up at 11am and down again by 2:30pm, or something like that. It'll be as light at 3pm as it is at 3am. I don't know. I'm just trying to prepare myself for the worst. Sigh, I hate being 55 degrees North.

And now for something completely different, how come no one told me that habeas corpus got shot in the face by George W? (And Congress, for that matter.) I just found out about it yesterday! Sigh, I don't miss having to put up with that kind of crap at home, but it's almost worse putting up with it over here because I have to make a sheepish attempt at explaining it and be the immediate terminus for ridicule of All Things American. It's a similar feeling to the one I get when people decide to tell dumb blonde jokes around me, even when they insist I don't qualify as one.

A touch of Americana

A slight departure from the usual report on my activities tonight...

This is from October 5th, and normally I'd say anything from MSNBC is crap, however this is ACE (as we'd say here):

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.

Check it Ouuuuuut!

This summarizes our rugby match this past Wednesday far better than I ever could:

http://www.eusu.ed.ac.uk/st/content/newsweek7#WomensRugby

(Plus, we had a great night out afterwards!) Woo, we're famous! Look ma, I'm on the internet!

Tired Tuesday

Still very tired. It's one third rugby recovery (yes, still from Sunday), one third coming down with a cold (*cough*COUGH* pity is nice), and one third dj-ing on the radio for three hours this afternoon. "Say what?" you say? No no, YOU say, "What?" and I say, "Say..." Oh this is getting silly.

Yes, I got to fill a time gap in the scheduling this afternoon, from 3:30-6:30pm, and dj to my little heart's content. Fortunately, I had enough music and a friend came in for a chunk in the middle to chat, so I wouldn't have to dj alone... for three hours.... in the cold, dark studio.... with no water... and only the mice to keep me company.... Ok, seriously, I need to stop.

I'm going to sleep now. My life isn't that interesting, but I'll tell you about it tomorrow.

Sunday's a (Glorious) RUGBY DAY!

I. Can. Not. Move. I am SO incredibly tired after today's rugby game. We played a big club side, the Hill Jills (which I'm guessing is short for something, but I don't know what that something is), today in Glasgow. The score is unimportant, suffice to say we lost, but played really well and fought hard the entire time and KILLED in the scrums. I started and lasted all 80 minutes as #5 and spent every last bit of energy I had, barely walking off the pitch at the end. It was glorious. The other team was friendly and played an awesome clean game, which seriously made all the difference. Never before has the sport of Glorious Rugby been so aptly named. (That's a little jab to all the ultimate frisbee players out there... if you can shorten ultimate frisbee to "ultimate," we get to call it "glorious rugby" or simply: "GLORIOUS.") I was also awarded the "Forward of the Match" title for today's game, which was really really cool.

I'm seriously too tired to type any more. Plus I have to go do my dishes and finish a Stats assignment... sigh... I hate having class on Mondays. Or any day for that matter.

A very Posh night out

Friday the 20th. October, Autumn. Time for glowing parties after dusk while a chill descends outside. The golden windows exuding the sound of tinkling glasses and honeyed voices from within. A nice picture, but it sounds more like a page out of The Great Gatsby than my own life. First stop, a “P” Party in Cowgate (read: party central), followed by a cocktail party in Marchmont (read: way far across a scary park to be in at night).

For economy’s sake, I dressed for the “P” Party as “Posh” so I could continue straight on to the second function. There were some fantastic costumes in addition to the expected Pirates and Princesses, including Photosynthesis, a Pair of Palm trees, Pippi Longstocking, a Private eye, Punk, and (my favorite) a Public display of affection. Sadly, I couldn’t stay long as my posh transportation to the cocktail party was on a time schedule. In the most elegant terms possible, I boarded a the number 41 bus to make my way safely to Marchmont, whilst clutching my posh £4 red wine I picked solely because it said “Toro!” on the bottle. I may be posh (or at least for yesterday evening), but I’m a bit of a wine dunce – I only differentiate between red and white, corked and screw cap.

One quick, posh public transportation ride later I arrived and, failing to read my own handwriting (was it number 34 or 39?), I headed for the loudest building on the street. My gamble paid off, as karma delivered me into the apartment of smartly dressed friends mixing inventive new cocktails. The invention of the Red Hat cocktail ensued (whose only ingredient I can remember is grenadine…), being named after THE best accessory there, a very fetching red hat. A very good evening, lasting into the wee hours.

Then I woke up this morning still slightly drunk. Poshly, of course.

Trust me when I say that it was no small miracle that I ended up so posh last night. I arrived back at my flat from rugby practice looking like “a crazy homeless person who decided to go run around in the mud,” as my flatmate Maisarah put it. I even had mud in my hair. To the shower! I scrubbed until my legs hurt and then realized that you can’t wash off bruises. Finally, I was returned to my proper clean (posh) state and prepared for the evening.

Oh, and in other news, I just sorta chopped my bangs off this afternoon. Oops. Gotta love that DIY hairdressing…

New Colors

I got bored of the plain white. Blue is always nice, no?

The Ugly American

Americans always complain about anti-Americanism abroad, but from what I've observed so far, we pretty much bring it on ourselves. Either that or we're just a sensitive people, taking cultural differences to heart and thinking it means no one really loves us. Yeah right. For example...

Saturday night I went out to a Mexican-themed birthday evening, consisting of dinner at a Mexican Restaurant (one of two in Edinburgh, I think) and then pub and dancing later. For the pub, we decided to go to the old student union, Teviot (which is basically just one giant 5-floor bar), dressed like Mexicans as we were, in ponchos and sombreros (although I, personally, was a "bandita" in boots and leather jacket). Anyway, we were standing around having some drinks, when an American guy came up and asked Nick where he got his sombrero. Nick was trying to explain what the store was called and where it was, but the American dude was just confused, so Ben (the birthday boy) just came over and interjected that it was from Mexico, that it was indeed a true mexicano hat. And then came the fantastic American reply: "You don't buy no fucking hat like that in Me-hee-co, I been to fucking Me-hee-co and they don't sell no fucking hats like that one. That's a fucking pussy hat." I turned around to see who this fool was; it was hard to tell where he was from based on looks and accent, but I'm guessing he's some old riche New Englander who goes to USC and just happened to go to Cabo for spring break one year. I would label him with a lovely american term that they don't have over here: douchebag. Anyway, I was about to tell him off and ask where he'd been in Mexico, 'cause they certainly sell hats like that in TJ and Ensenada. I decided starting a loud argument of clashing egos would have been even more American, so I let it slide. Too bad, I could have made him look like even more of an idiot, although he did the job quite well himself. He wasn't even trashed -- just inexcusable. I just sighed and sipped my Newcastle, and then apologized for my countryman once he was gone.

Oh, and the picture is "Salty Sombrero," the salt cellar we dressed up at dinner, with Ben's birthday cake and a tequila sunrise. Precioso, no?