Saturday, October 28, 2006

From Right Where I Am

It rains in Glasgow. Frequently. Usually it's not really a wet rain... more of a descending dampness. Sometimes though, the grayness opens into a soaking downpour. Then umbrellas open and folks attempt to avoid contact between the respective 'instruments of relative dryness'. In the wind, the concern is centered on keeping the umbrella right side in; a losing battle. As the unreliability of inanimate objects is again demonstrated, sorrowful and annoyed glances appear. Like most days, the rain has emerged victorious.

Maybe this cycle is why I refuse to use an umbrella. I accept the reality of a good soaking in exchange for the chance to be on the winning side of inevitability. I hold my head high as I march past those cowering next to buildings trying to get their inside-out umbrella ready for a second go. I smile at the unfortunate few who left the umbrella at home and now are hunched over, eyes squinting, trying desperately to stay dry.

Or maybe, I can't be bothered to carry an umbrella around when its not raining. Or possibly, I'm cheap and won't spend that 4quid. A few knowledgeable voices would argue that my chronic forgetfulness has impeded the purchase of an essential item. I won't lie, the above all ring true... to a point.

In the end, getting wet isn't that much of an inconvenience, provided of course, that one isn't desperately trying to stay dry. It's relaxing, it's beautiful, and in Glasgow it's inevitable.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Descriptive Statistics

44 days, 28 cups of tea, 14 classes, 13 shortbread cookies, 12 new (crazy) friends, 11 soccer practices, 10 pages of assigned reading, 9 sweaters, 8 loads of laundry, 7 rounds of golf, 6 shots (not inclusive of penalty of two-strokes for ball hitting my person, per rule 19.2b) to exit a St. Andrews fairway bunker, 5 kilograms, 4 attempts to like curry, 3 wrong buses, 2 cartons of goat milk, and 1 really lousy hamburger from Burgher King (moment of infinite weakness) later... I have decided upon my dissertation topic. Isn't that great?

Eden








St. Andrews: cow pastures gone wild...with an amazing view

(and this sorta tingly goosebumpy feeling behind the knees)

Monday, October 09, 2006

If You "Wish They All Could Be..."

Upon arriving at church last evening, one of the greeters informed me that three girls from California had stopped in for the service. Like many of his fellow countrypersons, he labors under the impression that I am acquainted with most of the roughly 36 million people in the state... or at the very least, any Californian lost in Glasgow! After being provided a minute description I scurried upstairs to grab a spot in the non-arthritic- hip pew area... but only after promising to say hello if I saw my fellow Calinationals.

As I assume is traditional Scottish presbytery style, the balcony area forms a thick U which is supported by three walls and numerous dual-purpose support beams (the other being to obscure any view of the speaker for those unfortunate to be seated on the ground floor.) I'm describing this so as to not be accused of twisting around in church... for just across the U, were three girls roughly matching the police-sketch I'd received. In the end, I could have ID them anywhere. Only California girls would ever-so-coolly sip Caramel Macchiatos during a sermon.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Baby Blue

For the two weeks preceding the commencement of school terms, I inevitably recall how much I hate lectures, homework, and the overall structure that academia enjoys. Generally, this feeling absents itself until the time in the semester when all the major essays are due; at which point, I have been known to whip up favorite childhood ailments such as chicken pox or appendicitis to give myself genuine reasons for procrastination. Say what you like about procrastination... it gives the procrastinator a tremendous feeling of accomplishment. After all, it takes persistent dedication to accomplish so little over such a great amount of time.

I digress.

Classes began on Tuesday and I rediscovered that in actuality I am not entirely antagonistic to school. To be sure, it was slightly disturbing when the professor started lecturing on thermal dynamics but in the main, I have managed to find my way to the economics lectures.

In other news:

Golf in Scotland is fantastic though I did have quite the shock last week when two Scotsmen and one Irishman decided that it was "too wet and muddy" to play an afternoon 18. The disillusionment was comparable to discovering that Santa still brings gifts for the "naughty" children as opposed to the promised switch. (It is only when you are older that you discover that Santa is a code word for the World Bank.) As we left the parking lot, a threesome of middle-aged women wearing waterproofs last seen sported by fishermen on some decrepit haddock boat, informed us that "te cauz jist naight pliyaible." Who were we to disagree with such stalwarts of all-weather play?

On Wednesday I sported the 1 in my first proper 11-a-side soccer game. For those of you ignorant of soccer tradition, this is the jersey worn by the starting goalie. Looking back on the match it is difficult to determine which was harder on my ego: giving up a goal in the first 20 seconds of the game,wearing an all baby-blue uniform ( another "privilege" of playing in net is your own unique and ugly outfit), or having to change my shorts on field after my team realized that I had them on backwards!