Hogmanay Forecast

Edinburgh -- city of arrogance, pseudo-culture, and the worlds largest collection of drunken Australians (outside of Australia)-- all on display the last day of every year. Sadly, while the first two are regular exhibits, the "slurring down under while up north" presentation can only be seen at and around the Edinburgh Hogmanay street party. Which just happens to be the largest street party in Europe.

Without parents near enough to make the threat of dismemberment credible, I've been debating whether to hop on the wee train and see the mayhem first hand. It would be like christmas candy, just with blood and puke and public urination... which is so much better!?! Right?

The Glasgwegian syndicate of Mr. Miyagi in the highly acclaimed "Hypothermia, Puke, and Burgers for £6" gives rookie party goers 7 basic guidelines. 5 of the 7 involve handcuffing yourself to friends so as not to get separated and/or singly mugged (apparently group muggings are considerably more enjoyable). The remaining two rules involve copious amounts of warm clothing and a transporter beam (to make a fast exit if and when necessary).

Alas, I won't be making it to this annual mother-of-all-destruction since I'm base-jumping in Glasgow that night. And ya'll thought I hadn't any common sense.

Attack of the Brussel Sprouts

Christmas dinner in Scotland includes wonderful tasties. The turkey (basted in a 1/2lb of butter), the gravy, potatoes, and carrots only begin the list. Most delicious of all, is the mound of perfectly prepared brussel sprouts. One, two, ten... is not enough. The mind demands more more more!

Every year, in the wee hours of Boxing Day, scientists see a dramatic increase in GHG levels. That's right -- every year! (Not to mention a funny odor.) Olfactory infiltration aside, this is a serious problem in need a credible response. We need to end our unsustainable dependence on the almighty brussel sprout.

The development and use of alternative vegetables for turkey dinners needs to be promoted; both in the scientific community and in primary education. To do so will not be painless, costless, though it will make our noses happier. But your culinery sacrifice may well be the greatest gift you ccould ever give a child.

So decide today to make a difference.

Because, together we can make Boxing Day less flatulent for future generations.

a tale of two shows

ER nurse 1 :"Doctor... Doctor... the patient is crashing. Tell us what you want us to do."

(camera pans, slows, speeds up, gets a bit blurry... indicating uncertainty, time-space suspension, time-space acceleration...basically confusion....)

ER nurse 2: "Doctor! You have to tell us what you want us to do. Now."

intern 1: "Alright, push one of epi and ventilate. Charge paddles to 250. Clear...

(monitor shows normal heartbeat)

nurse 1: "Now what doctor?"

intern 1:"Page neuro... And get fashion up here. Stat!"

(Intern leaves room and is stopped by angry resident in hallway)

Resident:"Dyou want to tell me whaut just happened? Because, I, think, I saw you, sittin on your behind, waitn to be told what tadooh. Yuh are a docta, act like it!"

(Resident waddles off muttering something disparaging about interns)

later...

Attending neuro: "Who is presenting?"

intern 1: "Mhairi Anderson. Age 19, student at Glasgow University. Admitted early this morning with multiple seizures."

Attending neuro: "Cause?"

intern 1: "Nothing in the patient history. But her skin... its orange."

Attending neuro: "Humph. Are you suggesting that the fake tan is somehow seeping into her brain? Interesting. Get her up to CT and get a full lab work up."

Attending fashion: "We don't need a CT. What this girl needs is a catwalk. I mean look at her... look at what she's wearing: pink striped bubble skirt with boots pulled up over the green polka-dot leggings. Unless she bought this all in the last 24hrs, that application of fake tan isn't explanation for what is going on here."

intern 1: "Do you want a psych consult?" (raises eyebrow)

Attending fashion: "No, between my stints with Mayo and Project Runway I spent a few months in glasgow. This is a classic case of fashion-myopia-glasgwegium... Glasgow Syndrome. Do your homework, I'd expect you to know that!"

Attending neuro: "I still want that CT. Sure, you have a hunch but.."

Attending fashion: "Look, run your tests, but I've seen this hundreds of times... with and without the fake tan. The fashion patterns around the campus at Glasgow uni cause seizures. Its like overexposure to strobe lights... but in this case its toxic levels of really bad clothing choices. Mismatched fashion is dangerous-- but, not operable. (Pause) Unless of course you are one of a handful of fashion surgeons who know how to separate fetal blood vessels... I mean... separate a girl from pink fishnet stockings and furry sweaters. Lucky for her, I am."

intern 1: "But she's wearing polka-dot tights."

Attending fashion: "Exactly. We only have a small window of opportunity before she's auf'd."

Drops of Jupiter

I suppose its cliche to note that day-to-day life is an often surprising conglomeration of non-consequential incidental amusing events. Not to be confused with trivial. A life is defined by this odd-assortment and only the silly (or wicked) would be foolish enough to pretend that the proverbial "box o' chocalate" isn't important in a unique little big way. Its enough to unsettle even the hardiest cliche-slayer into a doubting depression, Is my life really little more than an over-used cliche? who will then curse the ridiculous redundancy of their thought.

Of course, embracing the fact that life maybe just won't be as serious as your alphaness demands might be a tad more... shall I say... livable. But before you dance al0ng the light of day, and though you act like summer, walk like rain, listen like spring, and talk like june, remember, that the big it isn't away out there.

For what its worth, my theory on the location of it... and one should note that while T, K, P, L, and J were all instrumental in this formulation, none should be held responsible for the end result... is that those drops of jupiter are adjacent to the fish bones.

Ok, not actual fish bones... metaphorical ones!!!

At the End of the Term

Tomorrow I attend the final lecture of the fall term. Monday the major assignment is due. By Wednesday, the small econometrics report will be finished. Christmas break starts Thursday.

I'd love to describe what the last 3 months have been like. And words don't fail me to describe the various new experiences, insights, friends, reflections, and desires that have grown in this time. It would be easy to write a "snapshot." Place a short caption on the back-- Growing Up 9/06-12/06 -- move on.

But I'm not going to do that.

The chalk cliffs of Dover are no secret. In the harbour below is one end of the world's busiest ferry service. Immortalized in song and film, by the rendering of artists and digital cameras alike, one way or another, the world has seen their striking beauty. Snap the picture, move on. Beyond the pure white limestone flecked with flint is an austere subtlety. For within the pretty face, these cliffs are endowed with character and silent strength. You just know. A caption is insult to the manifested grace.