It's been a long time coming... Ireland, Guy Fawkes day, MUSE, and events in between...

Well, I left for Ireland on Friday, Oct. 30th. There was a huge fiasco, which I will put into a list due to it's confusing nature.
1. I didn't check in online on time to print my boarding pass for Ryan Air, so I thought I would have to leave for the airport early ahead of the other girls.
2. I got on the wrong train to the Gatwick airport and ended up showing up 20 minutes later than the other girls.
3. Luckily, I still had plenty of time, due to the fact that there were no lines anywhere.
4. When we went to board the plane, the other girls couldn't get on because they hadn't checked their boarding passes in at the front, which I had.
5. So, I flew to Cork, and spent almost the entire weekend by myself. Which wasn't bad at all, just unplanned.
Friday night, I walked around Cork and got myself somewhat orientated. I got a slice of pizza, and had some old guy crossing the street try to take it from me. He stuck his hand out like he was going to grab it, and I just said, "hey!", jerked the pizza away, and kept walking. Friday night didn't go so well as the people above me were excruciatingly loud. All night. Until 7am, actually.
But, Saturday was beautiful enough to make up for the headache of the night before. I went to Blarney and toured the castle, grounds, and gardens for 3 hours. Then I ate "lunch" at 3pm at this place called "Mackies" in Blarney. I had traditional Irish Stew, which was beef, carrots, potatoes, and parsley in a bowl with bread. I also had Bailey's Coffee, which was incredibly tasty. After Mackies, I walked around Blarney a little more and waited for the bus. I heard a waiter talking to a group of American girls, and he said, "Yes, Americans are the loudest, but they are the most generous people. And the most polite and friendly." I was pretty happy when I heard that.
It's kind of frustrating sometimes, because there is so many misconceptions about Americans based on the government's actions. I think some people get the impression that since we are "of the people" that the people control everything the country does, and we (kids like me: individuals) are, therefore, to blame for the pain America has caused to other countries. Obviously, not all the British think that way. I have a lot of British friends that haven't so much as breathed a word of negativity towards me because of my nationality, or for any reason at all for that matter.
In fact, the majority of British people I have met are the most decent people you could possibly want to meet. They are considerate and kind. It's just a couple of them that seem to embody the nation's resentment towards America, but more afflicting, Americans.
Anyway, after I got back from Blarney, I tried to get in touch with the other girls, but I couldn't get a hold of them on their phones, so I set off for their hostel to personally pay them a visit. If they were there. I found them about 5:30 getting ready to go out for Halloween night. I am such a good sleuth: I deduced they would be there preparing to go out for Halloween, and I was exactly right. Haha!
This is going to sound strange, but there was the biggest pizza I have ever seen in that hostel. It was humongous! Bigger than Pizza Perfection's Monster pizza or anything. It must have been 3 feet in diameter AT LEAST. It was so big. There was a girl there also admiring the pizza from Philadelphia in Cork by herself.
Anyway, enough about my skills that do not so little resemble those of Sherlock Holmes....
OKay, so we had heard a rumor running around that there would be a Halloween Parade in Cork somewhere. So, out we went. We walked all the way down to the river, crossed it, then realized we were nowhere near the parade. Where was the parade in reality? Less than a block from the girls' hostel. Mm... It was mostly my fault because I had heard someone say it would be on main street... well, I didn't verify it, and although I knew where Main street was, um... yeah. It wasn't at main street.
You'd think I'd stop making mistakes like these, but sadly, I'm just getting used to making them.
Anyway, the parade was put on by a local church/community group and was really cool. There were lots of puppets and people in costume dancing and playing drums and acting out skits and neat things like that. I had a good time. The other girls left before the end, but I stayed until the last bow, and then returned to my hostel. I went to sleep early being so tired, and realizing I needed to catch the 9:30am bus for my flight.
I was just falling asleep when I was suddenly aware there was a very loud siren in my ears. I sat up in bed, I could barely hear myself think. What is going on? Is there a fire? I hopped out of my bunk bed in my pajamas and went ran into the manager of the hostel. There was no fire. It was the fog machine for the Halloween party. I really wish they had called on my expertise about fog machines. They are notorious for setting off fire alarms... Anyway, so for about every five minutes for half an hour, the fire alarm would just start going off. The manager just eventually shut down the whole system. And decided to see if it was still going to go off... at 11:30pm. After I had fallen asleep again. And it happened again at about 4 in the morning... mmm... But, otherwise, I was so tired from Blarney, I had a good night's sleep.
The next morning found me stealthily creeping from my room and onto the streets of Cork. I left quite early, so I had a little walk around for a while. And eventually got on the 9:30 bus to the airport. Once again, I accidentally got off at the wrong stop in the airport business park and ended up walking about two miles to the actual airport. However, it was a blessing in disguise because I had a few hours to wait at the airport and the exercise gave me a little more patience and cut into my wait time. It was also a beautiful, cold, clear, sunny day. And I got to enjoy more of it by walking than I would have otherwise. I into a couple of nice people in the airport hotel on my quest to find the airport.
At the airport (which was really nice, by the way) there were many sweet children, and the sunlight streaming through the warmed by back in such a lovely way. I ran into the girl from Philadelphia again and chatted with her for a bit.
Airports in the U.K. are so much faster than in the U.S. For international flights, you can get through check-in, security, and to your plane in under an hour. In the U.S. it takes HOURS just to get through check-in sometimes. I don't know why their system is so much faster. Maybe more people fly more regularly there and so they waste less time by being prepared. Or maybe the laws aren't quite as strict. You only have to take your shoes off here if they have metal on them, whereas in the U.S. everyone has to remove their shoes regardless of the kind of shoe it is.
I was so tired when I got back to my apartment that afternoon, being mostly sleep deprived all weekend. I tried everything to stay awake. I ended up reading some assignments, and then I went to bed early only to be woken up at 3:00am because of the fire alarm going off. Our whole building exited and stood in the courtyard awaiting the arrival of the staff. I swear, the staff for the halls of residence must think we are just an unlucky bunch. They are over here all the time fixing stuff that mysteriously stops working, or is broken.
Anyway, so that delayed my sleep again. It turns out it was, once again, fog that set it off. Except this fog drifted inside from a window on the third floor. Ugh.
So, for the remaining portion of the week, until Thursday, November 5th, I was rather lazy. I didn't accomplish much. Which seems to be an increasing trend in my schedule. I play ultimate frisbee on Wednesday, but otherwise, unmemorable. Except Tuesday the 3rd, a few of us flat mates went out to explore the culinary options of Brighton and wandered into the Franklin Tavern. Our curiosity being piqued by the painting of Benjamin Franklin on the wooden plaque outside of a colonial-style building. The food (mince pie, veg, and mash), was pretty good, although lacking a lot of flair, like a lot of British food. However, it was tasty in it's own right.
Thursday, however, was an explosion of excitement! Literally.
Guy Fawkes Day was one of the most bizarre things I have ever seen. More so because of the presence of a plethora of American iconography. The parades consisted of different groups in different themes walking up the streets of Lewes with banners, firebrands, and extremely loud firecrackers. Or, I would like to call them portable explosions. They were SO LOUD. Anyway, some of the themes of the parades included, American landing on the moon, Native Americans, American Revolution patriots, Civil War Confederates, Vietnam soldiers, World War II soldiers, and Mardi Gras costumes. Although, there were many British icons there as well: Dukes, kings, queens, and some Eastern, Asian, and African icons as well. It's just the amount of American icons there that threw me off. It was something totally unexpected. But England likes to do that to me: throw me unexpected curve balls constantly. I like it. Most of the time.
Me and a bunch of other Americans left our flat around 3pm, but while the other Americans decided to take the bus, I decided to go off on my own and take the train into Lewes since it would be, as I predicted, faster, and less congested. I bumped into Ed, a friend discovered in good ol' England and we rode in to Lewes together. We met with some other French people and explored Lewes a bit. A lot of the shops were boarding up their windows in the last dying hour of the day, foreboding a wild and intense night ahead. I wandered around with Ed, Vivi, and some other French people for a while, then met up with the Americans, saw a few parades, and then I split off from the group wanting to get a better view of events. I wandered up high street, bought myself a delicious toffee apple for one pound, and tried to keep my feet warm whilst waiting for the ensuing processions/insanity.
The heat was so intense. And once, a person in the parade so deftly sneakily pulled out a portable explosion, lit it, and it rolled casually to the curb where I happened to be standing. The crowd shrunk back in horrific anticipation, and then, the ground shook, a loud thud hit my eardrums through my hands, a light flashed for a blink, and then I was aware of a kid crying and screaming. Poor kid. It was rather exhilarating for me, but I can understand it being very frightening for a child. There was some sort of call and response which went something like this: "Olly olly (something)...." "Oi, Oi, Oi!". People were also covered in ashy coal and striped jumpers, their features blending into indistinguishable impishness, shouting angrily and carry their firebrands.
Eventually, I met back up with Ed and Vivi and the others and we walked outside of the main part of town towards one of the bonfires. However, once we got there, we discovered it was five pounds and would start for another half an hour. We decided it was not worth it, and returned to the main street, Ed and I seeing Vivi and the others off at the train station and then returning to the thick of it. We walked around the emptying main street and realized why the businesses boarded up their windows. There was mess everywhere. Glass, cups, streamers, smoldering embers, etc. We bought some festival food (I got a frankfurter with onions and mustard) and continued on our way, which eventually turned into a quest to find a bathroom. Or, toilet, as Ed would correct me with his British accent. So, instead, of course, we ended up standing in front of a humongous bonfire at least 20 feet high. Also, in the same place, was an impressive fireworks display that would give some 4th of July celebrations a run for their money, in terms of size and quantity of said fireworks displayed. Ed and I watched until the end of the fireworks show, and then booked it back towards the train station. We magically happened upon a bathroom, and a somewhat comical "Elderly People" sign. Then we found ourselves being squeezed from all sides by the massive crowd of train commuters trying to catch the train before the last one left the station at 12am. It was so packed, my weight was actually partially suspended and I wasn't holding my entire body weight up. Finally, we made it on the train and back to Falmer totally exhausted. We had been in Lewes with the explosions and fires for seven hours straight. It was some intense flame. I could feel my face burning all night with the fire rash.
Friday, the 6th was spent resting, baking brownies, taking a walk along the seafront, watching Men Who Stare at Goats at the Odeon, and playing ultimate frisbee. I was some what ill, it was windy and rainy, and so I was a little late getting to practice, but it was still pretty fun. Saturday was spent studying, amazingly. I looked up some references for my Propaganda class essay, which I will be writing about political cartoons. And I talked to one of my best friends Adam, which turned out to be a rather depressing conversation. But I still enjoyed it. The library is only open from 1pm to 4pm on the weekends, so I had to leave. I wandered around, I can't remember where, and spent the night in memory oblivion... I really don't remember what I did... I remember being alone most of the time because practically the entire building was gone to Paris that weekend.
Sunday, Ed and Vivi invited me to eat at Ed's apartment, and so I went across the road and down the hill to the other set of halls of residence and enjoyed meeting a new friend Stephane, another computer engineer from France, and a delicious plate of pasta, American TV shows, and a game of Hearts. A most pleasant way to spend and evening.
Monday brought a new week of classes, and Tuesday the 10th brought a new restaurant to my attention: Fat Leos. A very good Italian restaurant in the North Lanes. Afterwards, some of us went to the King and Queen to sing karaoke, which was good and bad, as always. That night I discovered that all Rum Hot Toddy's are not created equally. The Rum Hot Toddy at The Bear is a pleasant light drink with a lovely flavor, warm and rich. The Rum Hot Toddy at the King and Queen was a disgusting and just gross. I didn't even finish it. Blech. The taste still lingers sometimes when I think of it.
Anyway, Wednesday, brought another Ultimate frisbee session! Woohoo! However, it was played at the Sussex campus instead of the level, because it was a tournament of sorts. We got stomped every single game. And my left leg decided to stop working after the first game. It kept locking up on me, so I had to sit out the other two games that were played. An event which made me most disgusted. Anyway.. moving on to the awesome event on THURSDAY!
THURSDAY the 12th I SAW MUSE IN CONCERT IN LONDON!
Okay, for those of you who don't know, MUSE is one my of my all time favorite bands, right up there with David Bowie, The Killers, and Queen. Right up there at the tip-top of my list. And I got to see them in London, at the O2 Arena... They were absolutely amazing. They played nearly perfectly, but didn't play their music exactly the same as the album, which was nice. No, it was more than nice, it was freaking awesome!
Okay, I went to London shortly after getting out of my Genre and Film class, during which, ironically, guess what happened? The Fire alarm went off in the building during the lecture. So, after being desensitized because of all the previous fire-alarms, it came as no surprise.
But, I took the train to London, found my way on the tube to the O2 arena, then waited a couple of hours, grabbing some "traditional British Grub" at this place called S&M, which is like a Steak'n'Shake of British food. "British" but fast-food "British". Although, I was starving, and they gave me a lot of food to assuage my stomach pains, which was all I wanted, so I didn't go too in depth into the culinary expertise of the meal. The service was uncommonly bad, I but I really didn't care because I had time to kill. Although, it was interesting watching the staff stand around so efficiently. Their managers must be very proud.
The concert was incredible. I was happy I was in the very last row (U), mainly because I wasn't deaf when I got out of the concert, although it was a bit hard to see what was going on. However, I got to HEAR them live which is what I really wanted. The lineup was terrific, consisting of all of my favorite MUSE songs and more. The lighting design was fantastic, the stage design was also pretty awesome. Simple, effective, and dramatic. It was great. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, although I may have worried my fellow row occupants by head banging and dancing around a little wildly. But I just couldn't contain it. It was too much fun.
I caught the tube back to Victoria station, where I waited until 12:05 am for my train to Brighton to turn up. There was some guy who tried to cut in front of me at the coffee shop, which kind of pissed me off, but other than that, I had a good ride home. Although the trains were incredibly crowded, due to the MUSE concert, actually. The O2 Arena sits 20,000 people, and the MUSE concert was COMPLETELY SOLD OUT. It was a sight to behold. All of those people singing the same songs.
Surprisingly, a lot of the audience consisted of families and couples. There were also many youngsters. Not as many "young people" as I would have thought. And I did not see one single person immodestly dressed, which is what I was expecting, whilst typically thinking of a popular rock concert. But almost everyone was dressed in their hoodies, or long sleeve shirts, or suit jackets. It was pretty great.
Anyway, when I finally made it back to Brighton, of course the train to Falmer had left in an eon long ago, and so I walked out of the station, walked for about 20 feet, when the skies opened and began to dump rain on my head. I ducked and ran for about half a mile to the nearest Bus 25 stop. Running in the rain in little ballet flats, at two-thirty in the morning, was something out of reality. I was totally soaked, as I reached the bus stop just in time to flag down the bus pulling up along side me. I stepped through the doors like a wet draggled rat, my hair sticking to my face. I was so incredibly exhausted, but so happy, replaying the events of the night in my head.
The only bad thing about the concert was the one opening act for MUSE. They were terrible. They were called "The Pink", and they were the most screechy, one-note type of "music" I have ever heard. But, one interesting effect they had was the increased desire to hear MUSE (if there could ever be a stronger desire), and their act also brought a good bit of blood to my face with their flashing lights and high irregular guitar riffs. It also quickened my heart rate, much like a blood-curdling scream of a human or the howl of a pack of wolves would do. That's what it kept reminding me of. And it was just about as pleasant to listen to. But I figure their presence was to show how awesome MUSE was, and also to get the crowd woken up a bit, in case any of them were having trouble staying awake through all of the suspense.
Anyway, after finally winding down getting to bed at 3am I, needless to say, slept very late on Friday. I baked a large cake, and went to frisbee practice where I relayed all that I could about the MUSE concert to a fellow fan, and president of the frisbee club, Sam. After frisbee, we went to The Bear as usual and had a few drinks and played some darts. After which Sam, Pete, Dom, and I played frisbee at the Level under the dim sidewalk lights. It was so much fun.
Saturday, the American Office took us on a field trip to Rye and Bodiam. We saw Bodiam castle, which is a medieval castle (and one of the finest specimens in existence). It had a moat, and many cool chambers. We had fun playing all over the stone work and exploring every bit of the castle possible. We climbed to the highest tower and surveyed the country side and it started to rain. But quit again soon. Most of the field trip was spend in transit, so we didn't get to spend a lot of time looking around, but in Rye, we saw the old sea wall, which is now two miles away from the actual ocean, the old ship yard, and Mermaid Street, which is the oldest street in Rye, dating back to at least the 1300s. There was the Mermaid Bar and and Inn which has been in business since the 1430s, I think. Incredible history. Rye was a very beautiful town with narrow cobble stone streets and quaint buildings. Jen, Sam, and I ate at a local charity restaurant, where they help provide jobs for the mentally disabled and I had some terrific "Sausage Casserole", which was basically pork and beans, but oh so good. And English peas, which are still a favorite of mine.
After we finished, we went looking around in one of many antique stores. I saw some very interesting things... but we didn't have much time, so I couldn't look around Rye as much as I liked, and I got a Christmas present for one of my friends and we went back to the bus. We then rode back down the coast to Brighton, passing Eastbourne along the way. The wind was blowing so hard, the bus' windshield wipers were being blown off of the glass. The curling waves looked as if they were suspended in the surf with their white caps being blown in the opposite direction, all of the sea spray creating a salty haze in the sky and partially obscuring the sun. It was a wondrous thing to see. Eastbourne also has a pier, almost like Brighton's, except it seems to be run down and neglected. There were posters all over it saying, "You can Save this Pier!" and stuff like that. It was a good day. Sunday morning, So Young, Jennifer, Yeon Joo (all of whom are Catholic), and I went to a Catholic church near the seafront. It was a pretty nice church, but not having been to a church service in a couple of years, I got a rather different impression than the other girls, I think. The service was very similar to the Episcopalian services I have attended, although the sermon and gospel readings were more informal. The main "talk", I would call it, because it really wasn't much of a sermon so far as sermons go, was about the state of aid to developing countries, and those countries choices to invest their aid into weapons, which the countries providing the aid supplied to them. It was a very politically charged speech and was calling to light the importance of standing up what you believe in, even if it means death. All in all, it was not a bad service, but was not very well thought out. And the two priests did not seem to be very thrilled to be in each other's presence. It did make me rather yearn for an Episcopalian service, and perhaps this Sunday, I may make it to one...
After the service, we went and had an English breakfast at Bella's, a small cafe on St. James' street across the way from Morrison's. It was a very good breakfast. Then we rode back to the Flat, and I spent the rest of the day reading and listening to music until about 4 o'clock when I went out to play football with Vivi and some other French people out on the Falmer sports pitch. We played for about 2 hours, which I ran for almost the entire time. I was also goalie for a short time after having twisted my right knee a bit. After football, I cooked for Ed, Apryl, Stephane and I. And after we had supped, a conversation about Thanksgiving day broke out and the next thing that broke out was the paper and sharpie, and the next thing that broke out was a bunch of hand turkeys with emblems of "Americanism" drawn by Ed. I drew a picture of Stephane, and we just chatted away a bit. It was a really fun night. Monday, I only had one class because it was reading week for my Propaganda class. Monday night, I met up with one of my ultimate frisbee mates, Andy, and we went to the Brighton Ultimate shin dig in Hove. Since I had never been there before, of course we got lost. And ended up being forty-five minutes late. I was very stressed about it. I didn't want to be late to frisbee! But I'm glad Andy was with me, because he calmed me down a bit. We only got to play frisbee for less than an hour, which was only one game. Sad.
After that, Sam, Virgil, Andy, Ethan, and I chilled out in the pub by the Rugby field where we played frisbee and talked about our upcoming trip to Sweden (Jan. 26th- Feb. 3rd), which, needless to say, we are all entirely STOKED about! Andy and I caught the bus back home. I've noticed I spend most nights of the week in pubs. I only get a drink maybe twice a week at most, but it seems like half my time is spent in pubs. I guess that's the way they do it in England, because that's what the majority of my British friends do, even if they don't drink. But they are pretty nice to hang out in because they are warm, they smell of food (usually), you can stay until they close, and when it gets dark at 4:30pm, there really isn't much else you can do. Minus watching a movie which is more expensive, or playing frisbee in the dark... which is free. Am I a little obsessed? Yes, I think so. I actually start thinking of how I can work out so I can become faster and more effective at the game. I am going to join the gym next semester.
Tuesday the 17th, the weekly dinner night-out found us at the Gladstone pub at their Curry night, since the curry night at Falmer Bar (on the Sussex campus) was full... again... for the second time trying.
Ed and Stephane came along, and I had SPICY FOOD! It's the first real spicy food I've had since I've been here. And while it lacked a diversity of flavor, the spiciness was so nice to have tingling on my tongue, I didn't complain. I was just happy I was eating something that kicked me in the jaw. There was a quiz going on, which seemed like good fun, but we didn't join in, we watched instead. Next week, we will join in, probably. But Gladstone had decent food, the people were very nice. We had a good time. Most of us were bushed, though, so no King and Queen for karaoke, we went straight back to the flats and I showed Stephane and Ed the Homestarrunner and Trogdor, to which previously they were ignorant. I would like to think I educated them in www.homestarrunner.com, but I hardly think it would constitute as anything worth being educated in, however funny it is.
Wednesday, I had class again, and watched my weekly required movie for Genre and Film class. This week's movie being Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and analysing it through the criteria of the sci-fi genre. A very interesting movie, the basic point of which is memories and mistakes. It's a good movie. Definitely sci-fi, although there are no aliens or weird space ships. But it explored the mind as a strange world in which we live, and the people in our lives live as well. One of the best quotes in the movie was the patient is asking the doctor, "What about the risk of brain damage?", to which the doctor replies, "Well, technically, the procedure is brain damage".
Anyway, before I geek out about it too much, I will keep recording events.
Wednesday also saw more, guess what? FRISBEE! I am now involved in four different frisbee leagues (Brighton city, Brighton University, Brighton Indoor, and Brighton Women's), four to five days of the week. It is needless to say I am very hungry very often. But this makes me happy. Wednesday, last night, I left the pub early and wrote my Genre and film analysis, took a shower, and went to bed warm. Although, today, I woke up with a cough and feeling "like death" as they say. I went to Genre and Film class, took in Blade Runner which was a film I was most curious to see, and then came home, and I have been updating this ever since.
I know it has been far too long since I updated, and I apologize. It is now rectified, however, and pictures will be following shortly.
I must now take a nap before I go play frisbee tonight. Maybe if I get some sleep, I will feel better.
Speaking of sleep, for several days running, I dreamed peacefully of the ocean, whales, turtles and such. But for the past few nights, I have been having frightening dreams of violence in Africa...Weird.
Oh, and also, we got a new TV in our flat, which I watched last night. But, unfortunately, I watched the news... which was a bad thing to watch, because now I don't want to watch the new, flat screen TV any more. There was a bit on there about how the world population is going to almost double in the next 40 years, according to experts. So, what is their suggested solution? "Educate" women to only have one or two kids. Not because of food shortages or something like that, but because of carbon emissions. More kids would just create too much carbon, I guess! Well, it's a good thing they can tack all the responsibility on women. You know, it might be nice if they "educated" men about this "issue" as well, wouldn't it? But no, men, apparently, have no hand in controlling the world population. It's the women's "choice" to have less children. And somehow this will "empower" women. Okay, so if someone, a female, grew up in this "educated" system, and decided they wanted more than two children, would this make them uneducated?
I don't know if the news people spout this kind of crap with the intention of manipulating the information, or if it just magically happens by accident. But, this report deeply troubled me. Is still deeply troubling me. Since when did women just voluntarily have children on their own. Doesn't the responsibility of children also fall with men as well? I mean, just logically, it doesn't make sense. It takes two to tango. But, I guess no one organizing the clip wanted to talk about that.
I think this whole climate change thing has gotten out of hand. Oh, they said, they weren't going to make it like in China where it is illegal to have more than one child or whatever, it was going to be voluntary. But they made it clear that if A WOMAN didn't voluntarily comply, they would be "knowingly" dooming the rest of us to increased global warming. Thanks a lot to the UN for coming up with such an insulting solution. Thank you for blaming women for the increased numbers of children in the world and placing a large chunk of the responsibilities of the environmental issues on the heads of potential mothers and their potential children. To me, that's stepping in way too close to invading personal freedom. Educated choice. HAH. There can't be an educated choice if there is no alternative choices represented on equal footing. "Have one or two children and you'll be a good educated woman" Versus "Have more than two children and you will be part of the demise of the human race".
Uuuuuurrrgh.
Women consist of over half the population on earth. Why are we still treated and talked about as if we were irresponsible baby-producing-therefore-environment-destroying THINGS?! I just don't like the implication news stories like that disperse. It's in very bad taste and no logic at all. It's just sensationalist crap. And they always have people there to contest the the extremes of the view, the "yes" or the "no", but who do they have to represent the middle ground?! NO ONE!
ARRRRGH! The most frustrating thing is being a media student, and most of my studies revolve around how much things like this actually DO affect the culture. They aren't just things you can brush off, news has real consequences. Information is power. And when you package information in such a biased way, the power becomes biased. It helps no one.
I don't claim to be a feminist, but I do claim to be a humanist. We may have different body parts, and we may be different, but men are equal with women, and women are equal with men. End of story.

Cheers for reading!

Hannah

The Strange Addiction, goof ups, and Ireland.

So, since things have settled down a bit here, and I'm getting into my more set routine, a lot of things don't seem so shocking.
So, this is just a little general overview of what's going on across the pond... or in England, depending on where you are.
First of all, I am enjoying my classes immensely, although I must say that Genre and Film and Science, Technology and the Media are my two favorite classes (of the four that I am taking). They all strike a lot of interest for me. I'm not sure why I like the other two best, but they are the ones I look forward to the most. Maybe I like the tutors better, or something. The other ones aren't bad in the least, but I think the others are better.
Oh yeah, and I have fallen in love. With this little game called, "Ultimate Frisbee". It has got to be the most fun game I have ever played. Soccer was pretty fun, but ultimate frisbee beats all for me. I am now playing it three times a week and have met some very nice people, and had some very good times whilst enjoying the game tremendously. The core of the people that show up like it very much as well, which I think helps the attitude. We all love the game so much. I'm not sure if it's the high-speed pace of the game, the combination of hand-eye coordination with grace and imagination, but whatever it is, Ultimate has got it. It is the Ultimate game. I like basket ball a lot as well, but I think I like Ultimate. The others on the team talk about how great it would be if were broadcast on TV or something, but I think tha would ruin the spirit of it. If it became hugely popular. I just hope I can still play it without being up against mean, ruthlessly competitive "winners". As long as I can enjoy it, I will play it.
What else.
Oh yes, Olives. Olives. Olives. Black Olives in Brine. I have gone through almost an entire kg in a week. I do not know what it is. But ever since I have gotten here, I have had this thought in the back of my head, "mmm, some olives would be nice", but I would always toss it down and say, "Nah, I'll spend my money on something else". But, I caved in last weekend and bought a huge family sized jar of the little gems and they were gone by Monday. Throughout this week, I would be walking around and I just wanted an olive. Or two. Or a million. I went to the store, but thinking that my craving for olives was a tad abnormal, I decided I wouldn't get them.
But... as I was waiting for the bus today by Sainsbury's, I could hear something calling my name. The olives. And then I could smell them, and then I could taste them, and then I went in and bought me another big jar... That was this afternoon. The jar is now less than half empty.
Problem? Yes. I think so. But a delicious problem, so I'm not going to do much arguing.

The South Downs are absolutely beautiful, as are the sunsets on said downs. The view from about a 20 minute hike/walk from the apartment complex is something out of a dream. Terrific. Words defy me. I will have some pictures up soon-ish. Probably on Sunday or Monday.

I'm trying to decide if I'm actually crazy enough to write a novel for National Novel Writing Month (November), or if I should just forget about it.

So Young, a friend of mine from South Korea, explained to me what is going on with the North Korean refugees. But that is for another blog. It's horribly depressing and I don't have the time at the moment. But, I will write about it soon.

Some common ways to not make stupid mistakes:
1. Make sure you know which building you are actually walking into when you're trying to find the bank.
2. Observe your surroundings. If the signs do not say "Lloyds TBS", but "Northern Rock" and the decor is black with flaming pink accents, assume you are not in Lloyds TBS.
3. Apologize profusely to the person with whom you've just wasted 15 minutes before closing time. That was the most horrible mistake I have ever made in my life.
4. Don't stand up on the lower deck of the bus when you are seated on the elevated seats, especially if you are wearing high heels.
5. Look like you know where you're going. Even if you don't. Even if you know you don't. Look it. But this often leads you into problems... like going into the wrong bank.

Ireland:
I am leaving for Cork, Ireland tomorrow and will arrive there at about 4:15pm. I am EXTREMELY excited to see Ireland. I am going with one of my flat mates, Laura and a few other girls from upstairs. I'm leaving on Sunday afternoon. I expect to have a cracker of a time.
So, yes! Expect some news and pictures from Cork.

I hope everyone who is reading this is well.

Cheers!

Hannah

The Postmodernism Theory- Just some thoughts about my classes at Uni of B

For some reason, I feel my mental capacities to be totally awakened at the moment, so I won't miss this rare opportunity to tackle the liquid theory of Postmodernism.

The first thing that we must first understand about Postmodernism, is it's acute lack of understandability. It's an ideology that is to be accepted, not contested, and therefore "transcends" (or in my opinion, purposefully degrades) understanding.

For example:
Looking at my previous blog, I said, "I can't change my world".
That is a very Postmodern statement because I am accepting that things are just the way they are, and there's really nothing I can do about it. It's sort of a self-defeating theory because the word Postmodernism is a word employed to understand this thing or time-flux we currently find ourselves in.

Upon closer scrutiny of my remark, I do not actually think I can not change "MY" world. I can change MY world. It's very easy to change one's own world. But, I think what I meant more to say is that I can not change THE world. There are situations that, no matter how desperately I wish they did not exist (like child abuse, rape, murder, etc.), there is nothing I can do to stop all of these things happening to everybody. I can keep myself from these things, maybe prevent these things in MY world. But my world occupies only a tiny, infinitesimal space in the "real" world, if you will.

What I think Postmodernism is, more than anything, is the existence of individual spheres, each with their own unique mix of cultural identities, products, things, materials, knowledge, education, etc. Everyone has a unique and individual approach to life. Postmodernism simply "accepts" things the way they are by NOT imposing an over-arching social structure. In this way, Postmodernism accepts individuality as part of the inevitable, "That's the way it is" approach.
It is obvious that the Postmodern era is not an apathetic one. Issues are still hotly contested, fought over, and argued.
I think that we can't see what's under our own noses, however obvious it might seem once we step back (or progress forward in time) and observe the era in another context.
I always say it's impossible to self-analyze, because to analyze, you need a source of comparison, and if you're comparing yourself to yourself using yourself, you're just going to end up chasing your own tale/tail.
This is unproductive and looks quite silly.
And does anyone actually understand WHY a dog chases it's tail?

So, that being said.
I think the whole idea of Postmodernism, as regarding trying to decode it TODAY, as a source of understanding is silly. Because, like I said, the defining quality of Postmodernism is it's remarkable lack of the ability to be understood, or explain itself. It's just a piece of fuzz floating in this space called "time".
I say live YOUR life, and figure out how to define it after your actions have defined it for you.
In this way, my earlier blog referencing Two Face, still holds true to me. You make the best decisions you can based on the knowledge you have, or the odds in (or not in) your favor. The rest, is chance.

We can always change our own worlds, simply by the way we think. When someone has a revelation, or a spiritual awakening, what happens first? The way they think changes. They might no longer see God as a heartless dictator, or they no longer see the world as a truly unloving place. But it's their THOUGHTS about the world around them that changes, not necessarily the world itself. The "world" is a personal perception, and we all strive to get the clearest, most truthful and accurate perception possible. But who is to say this perception is "right" or "wrong" or "bad" or "stupid" or "good" or whatever, without first acknowledging their own perception of the world. How you shape your world is how you perceive it. And how you perceive your world shapes your actions.
Then, there is of course other people that are part of your world, and you are a part of theirs. Whether these other "people" belong to the metaphysical world, or the physical one, they still constitute an important aspect of the individual world.
The self-explanation that is very popular in America, the very definitive positions of oneself one hears all the time, what I like to call the "iCulture". Not only does this serve as a nice crossover of consumerism with a nice reference to the "iPod", "iTunes", etc., but taken from another spelling, "eye culture", it also explains that what we understand is what we "see", in a literal and metaphorical sense (hearing stories, gossip, recognizing stereotypes, etc.), and what we see shapes our world and what we understand as OUR culture. "Our" not so much in a collective sense, but "our" as in an individual sense.

In this way, Postmodernism, in my humble opinion, is bunk. Because, honestly, how can we say an entire era in a consumer democracy society (OUR society) can be defined under a single word? Postmodernism takes things as they are, because that's all the philosophers who came up with Postmodernism could think of.
Probably because they were slightly bored and wanted to use their brains for something (like me). But they couldn't figure out exactly what's going on, because like I said, self-analyzation is like chasing your tail.
The dog's going to run out of energy sometime. Or, he'll keep going at least until something else distracts him. Maybe Postmodernism is just waiting for the next distraction.

Postmodernism seems kind of A.D.D. and random to me...
Note the subtle tie to today's youth culture there?
I hope you did.

Thanks for reading my brain ooze.

Cheers!

Hannah

My Night Life

My Night Life.

The weather has taken a chilly turn in Brighton, bringing strong winds and clouds and rain with it. Today, it has cleared up and the sun is shining, but the wind is still blustering about robustly. Wearing sweaters or, "jumpers" are now a necessity for going outside (and even indoors if it's at our flat!).
On Wednesday, Ed, one of the people from the Ultimate Frisbee club, let me borrow a couple of large mixing bowls and so, on Thursday I baked some biscuits. They turned out pretty well considering I didn't have buttermilk, and I they were whole-wheat. I didn't realize I had bought whole-wheat self-rising flour at Sainsbury's. But, I guess I did.
I took them to ultimate practice on Friday, and that night when we were hanging out at The Bear (an ultimate tradition), all 17 of them were devoured quite quickly. I was happy they enjoyed the "American" biscuits.
Friday was a good night. That night I dreamed, among other things, that there were pianos sitting on every street corner and were open and free to play. Yesterday, Catt and I went to the pier to see if the aquarium was open. We got a Moo Moo milk shake, which was incredibly delicious (and heavy!). We played in the arcade for a bit, because we discovered the aquarium had already closed and then we were walking back to the bus stop, and WHAT should happen to be sitting behind our bus stop? Yep. A piano.
Dreams really do come true, you know.
We caught our bus back home. And I hung out in my flat for a couple hours until I decided I was going back. I was so hyper and keyed up, waiting for the bus to get there was almost unbearable. You'd think I was going to play at the Carnegie center, or something. I was so excited. I ran to see if it was still there. And it was. No one had moved it, it wasn't busted, it was just as it had been earlier that day. Words can not express the happiness I felt when I beheld that little worn, tired piano, sitting so patiently behind the bus stop at the Pavilion. I played on it for almost two hours, during which several people came up to me, talked to me, played their own music, and sang along to the songs I was playing (mostly, "Hallelujah", because I couldn't really remember any more). I did take a hat, just to see if people would pay me, but once I got there, I didn't really want anyone's money. It was just fun to sit there and play. It had been so long. It's ridiculous how much I enjoy playing the piano and singing. However, one person did ask me, "do you have a cup or something I can put money in?". So, I think it goes without saying that I could have made some money at it. But I'm sort of glad I didn't. Although, it is good to know that I could. I felt like I was dreaming. At one point, there were about five people singing "Hallelujah" with me and we were all trying to remember the next verses. I taught someone to play the little "fist roll" song, as I call it. Someone showed me how to play "Hey, Jude", and I played a couple of originals that received favorable feedback. It was the first time I actually had some conversation with strangers. They were all very willing to talk to me, which I have find to be kind of rare. A lot of people took pictures, too. But, for once, all those people watching didn't bother me. Usually, when I play the piano, the more people watching, the harder and harder it is. But not last night. I think I was so desperate for playing the piano, it didn't make a bit of difference to me. *sigh*, it was lovely.
I think next time, if there's no piano available, I'll go sing jazz tunes a cappella, or something. If I need laundry money. That's a joke.
But, THAT is my idea of a night out. I had the time of my life. And there are so many people who can play amazingly! It was so nice to hear them play. I enjoyed every second of it.
Today, daylight savings time kicked in, which means I get some extra time today, so I'm going down the pier again, to see if the aquarium is open today.
Who knows what's actually going to happen.
Life, like I had said before, is a never ending surprise.
And I have discovered I have a strange addiction to olives.
From me, having a blast in Brighton, to you: have a fantastic day!

Cheers!

Hannah

The Past Couple of Weeks

I can't remember exactly what date I left off, but since the last time I wrote, I have been to London again, which was a lot of fun. It was more of an over-view tour, walking along rather than stopping and looking at things in depth. I went for an interview in Greenwich about being in a band as a pianist.
I began my classes on Oct. 5th, and have since then already presented one of my required presentations (phew).
The last couple of weeks have mostly been spent in quiet reflection of the differences between British culture and American culture, listening to music, reading, drawing, watching movies, and playing ultimate frisbee. The most exciting thing that has really happened recently was receiving a black eye from playing a game of Ultimate frisbee. Last night (the 20th), I sang karaoke at the King and Queen pub, and had fun doing that. Slowly, but surely, I am becoming assimilated to the culture. It is taking me a while, especially since I know I will be here for many more months.
My classes are all of the media variety, which is good because I haven't taken a media class in a couple of years. I am taking:
1. Popular Music and the media
2. Propaganda, Persuasion, and Political Communication
3. Science, Technology, and the Media
4. Genre and Film

I love all of my classes and find them all so interesting. I've got some of my favorite subjects covered: Music, politics, science, and films. So, I am happy. The classes are mostly reading, class discussion, and analysis.
When something more exciting happens, I will post it. But for right now, that is all that has been happening.
More later.
Ciao!

Let's Play Catchup! Scotland day three and this past week's events:

Thursday, October 1st.
I woke up bright and early around 7:30 and started moving around. Apryl awoke shortly thereafter and we got ready for the day, packing and cleaning out the locker, getting ready to check out. We checked out and left out backpacks at the Hostel while we went out. We stopped by Starbuck's on the way out and I had and "extremely fruity scone" and a vanilla latte, which was probably the best coffee I've had a Starbuck's ever. We talked to a nice guy from Canada who was visiting Edinburgh with his son. We had a talk about children's literacy, or lack thereof, and he blamed it on the parents. While this is true, if parents do not encourage their children to read or do not read to them, this finger pointing still does not solve the problem. Kids need tutors. Man, I should really be a volunteer teacher or something. I don't think I would want to be an actual teacher, just like what my friend Mike does. A student helper.
Anyway, we went to the Edinburgh Castle and toured all the sights. The oldest building is St. Mary's chapel, which was built in the 1100's, I think. There was a bunch of theoretical history projected into the tour, just because they are not sure what exactly happened as written records are rare (or do not exist).
They redesigned the castle in the 19th century, and there were some plans for French Castle style, but thank goodness that didn't pull through. It did not fit into the Scottish style one bit. It was very ornate and floofy looking. Not something you would find designed, or thought up by, a Scot.
Anyway, the design was mostly applied to the main gates, although some of the buildings were fixed up a bit.
The Crown jewels of Scotland are stored there, along with the Stone of Destiny (Scotland's Throne, essentially). They were kept in hiding in a chest for 300 years. 300 YEARS!!! Until Sir Walter Scott asked the British government if he could open the chest. Many people were fearful that they were stolen long ago, but it turns out they were exactly as had been left, wrapped in cloth in the bottom of the trunk. In the exhibit, there was enormous buildup about the Scottish kings and Queens of the past, but not a whole lot of it had to do with the actual crown jewels (maybe during so-and-so's reign, a gem was added here, or the style changed a little there), but it is all rather dry and uninteresting, and there's too much of it for me to remember, so I hope you're not disappointed if I skip over to, what I think is, a more interesting part of the tour.
Anyway, after Sir Walter Scott got them uncovered (no wonder he is Scotland's hero), they went to England. They didn't not return to Scotland until the the 1990s, along with the stone of destiny, sanctioned by Queen Elizabeth II. I had not realized it was so recently. All of the Scots were very excited about the return of their Throne and jewels, which brings to light and interesting fact.
The political party in power in Scotland at the moment is the Scottish National Party (SNP). This party is very interested in reviving Scottish traditions (not the witch burnings) and bringing awareness to national pride. Scottish national pride (as if they needed any more of it). There were posters everywhere in Edinburgh saying, "Homecoming Scotland" and "Homecoming 2010" and things like that, with the Scottish flag waving all over the place. What this has to do with the stone and crown jewels is this: in a couple of years, if the SNP can pull it off, they are drawing it up now, there will be legislature petitioning to England and the U.K. to allow Scotland to (A. Have more rights and power as part of the U.K. (B. Remain in the U.K. as at present (C. Separate from the U.K. entirely and have a separate Scottish country. People are buzzing because the Stone of Destiny is resting in Edinburgh Castle now (the ruling place of Scotland), and it is said, as I said in an earlier entry that, "Wherever the stone lies, there Scotland shall be ruled"... Or something to that effect. Since the stone is now in Scotland, it would seem to follow that the Scots should get their own government again.
While I think this would be a great opportunity for Scotland, I think if they get a good amount of votes in favor for a separate country (like the SNP hopes), they are going to need to borrow a lot of money (for government setup, military defenses, etc.), and the world economic state, as it is now, might not be the best place to apply to.
I think, if they do get enough 'yes' votes, it will take many years before the separation actually occurs. At least, I would hope so. I don't think a violent break would benefit anyone. BUT! I am not a U.K. citizen, so I can't honestly say I am invested, however, it is an event worth following.
In Edinburgh castle, we also visited the prisons. Surprisingly, there were many Americans held there during the Revolutionary War. I have some photos of the American markings they found, such as a picture of a man hanging on the gallows with the words "Lord Nord" above it. Lord Nord, was apparently the much hated man who raised the taxes in "the colonies" and, they peg the blame on him, single handedly caused the Boston Tea Party and the fight for independence. When the war was over, all of the prisoners were freed, except for the Americans, because they hated "the rebels".
I was surprised to find so much American history in Scotland. They represented them somewhat humorously, I suppose...
It's so strange to hear what people think America is like. A lot of people have told me they are afraid of the gangsters. Which, I think is hilarious. Or they make remarks, like about the one o-clock gun going off, "If you're American, you'll probably think it's a drive by shooting and take to the ground."... Speaking of the one o'clock gun, we were up in the Castle when it went off... that was fun. I did jump a little, but I didn't think it was a drive by shooting, or whatever.
But really. I can not decipher (as yet) if they poke fun at Americans because they don't like them, or if it's just fun to do. The British kind of poke fun at everyone. And a lot of British people have this feeling that I, as an American, am very competitive with Canada and Britain... Perhaps I am a little bit prideful when I say this but, what do we really have in competition with them? We are all self-sustaining countries... well, mostly. We all have resources, but none of us are lacking in anything that we really NEED. We all have farms for food, and wood (or bricks) for buildings. I met a person who was half Canadian, and he made a face like, "it's bad"... and I asked him, "What's wrong with being Canadian" and he said, "Well because there's a lot of rivalry."
"Between who? The U.S. and Canada"
"Yeah."
I just laughed. For some reason, I never thought of the U.S. having a rivalry with Canada. I just the country ignored them (we pretty much do)... except during the Winter Olympics... maybe that's what he's talking about.
But if you think about it, isn't every country a rival to another? Even if it's just a friendly rivalry, like New Zealand and Australia. Heck, Scotland has an INTENSE rivalry with England, and they haven't been separated, as countries, in over 500 years!
Well, anyway, the prison was interesting. The memorial to "the Great War" (WWI) built in 1929 (I think?) was very beautiful, and definitely designed in the 1920's. There was the heavy, art deco, geometric approach to nearly all the decorations, but it was beautiful. It had all the names of the fallen written in books. And then a special memorial for those unaccounted for. War memorials always make me want to cry. Especially when I see little children running around in them. Maybe this is a little overly sentimental of me, but I can't help it. Just knowing that those kids may not have been here today if a series of impossibly unpredictable events led to their ancestor's survival. Life really is a blessing.
After we saw the Edinburgh Castle, we walked back to the Hostel, but not before stopping in the National Scottish Museum. It was pretty small, but absolutely beautiful, and free. It consists of two buildings but we only went in the permanent display one. The other is used for special exhibits and costs money. Not like I'm opposed to spending money going into a museum, but we didn't have the time. There were many excellent paintings, and the room layouts were wonderful. Classic, but in a different way from Buckingham Palace. Classic Scottish, I suppose, which I was "in tune" with much better. There were also some ancient Greek artifacts which I thoroughly enjoyed. There were Degas, Van Gogh, Monet, Gauguin, and other famous impressionist painter, which I can't remember right now. It was heaven! Many lovely landscapes, as well as portraits. So many nice paintings!
We walked back to the Hostel and picked up our backpacks, and then went in search for postcards. We walked down along the Parliament building again, and saw some TV reporters talking to, I assume, a government member. I got the really mean idea to go up to them and start asking for directions or something, but I decided not to. My evil side is squelched, once again... thank goodness. It's a good thing I've got a strong will to resist such evil urges! Just kidding. Moving on.
Nothing much happened, we just tooled around, found some postcards, and then got on the bus back to the airport. We stayed in the Old Town Edinburgh for our entire stay. Except for when we walked by Princes Street. But we did not go beyond Princes Street in the New Town. I had forgotten completely about it. The Old Town is so lovely and full of sights.
Security was quick and painless and therefore, rather not worth talking about.
In the airport I found some sour candy that was actually sour. And I bought a couple of books, "The Fabulous Mr. Fox" by Roald Dahl and "Princess Diaries: Ten for Ten" by Meg Cabot, the last in the series. Needless to say, I became very engrossed with the latter book and read it continually in the airport, on the plane, on the train, on the bus, and in my bed until I finished it at 2am. I knew it would happen. But I willed myself NOT to look at the clock so I wouldn't get tired so I could finish the book. I like the Princess Diaries books to a pitiful degree. It's just, how can you resist all of the teen romance? I completely skipped what most people deem as "high school", so I like reading about it. It makes me feel young again! That's a joke.
Anyway, so, since I had my nose stuck in the book, I didn't really notice anything else...

Friday, Oct. 2nd was uneventful. I slept late and ate a banana...

Saturday, Oct. 3rd, Mary and Zoe (our American Office advisers) took us on a trip to East Sussex. Our first stop was the chalk cliffs at Beachy Head, the famous suicide spot. People come from all over the country just to jump off the cliffs there. There was actually an old wrecked car at the bottom of one of the points. The little kid that was with us said so, but Mary said, "I don't believe you". I looked where the kid was looking, and darned if he wasn't right. It was kind of hidden under some grass, but there it was.
A little grotesque.
But, the government does nothing to stop it. The Samaritans (like the Good Sam club in the U.S.) have taken to patrolling the cliffs. They are located on the South Downs, which is a huge wildlife preservation area. It's about to become a National Park, I think.
After that we went to Afriston, a small "Chocolate Box Village" (as they say here in good old England), and looked around. There was an old St. Andrews (Scotland's Patron Saint) Church and looked at the insides. I split off from the group and walked around by myself for a bit in the graveyard. It was a lovely overcast day. Then I walked on a public path for a bit, then turned and went into the middle of town, down a little lane. It was only wide enough for one and a half people. But I met no on else. I went to the chocolate shop, where I bought some Turkish Delight (yum!), and individual chocolates in Irish Cream, Grand Marnier, Rhubarb, and something else I forgot (but it tasted good... they all tasted so good). I walked around the more residential district of Alfriston and then we climbed in the bus again and off we went to the a small pub for lunch. But not before seeing the "Seven Sisters" which are naturally coursing streams through the South Downs. They were very picturesque, and I hope I snapped a couple of good photos of them. They are just field streams, but vitally important to the wildlife in the area.
We got to the pub, I was so hungry, having not eaten that day, and ordered "Paul's Special", which is cheese and tomato sauce on bread.... it was the best pizza I've had here, so far. And Mushroom Stroganoff, which isn't in my spell checker, haha! I ate a lot. But it felt good.
Lemonade here, by the way, tastes suspiciously exactly like a flat Sprite. With more water.
I played drawing games with Charlie (the kid who saw the car), and we rode in the front seat together to Battle Abbey. Battle Abbey is where they fought the Battle of Hastings in 1066 (what other Battle of Hastings is there?), which was a turning point in Anglo-Saxon and Norman rule of England (the Normans won). Battle Abbey was erected by Norman King William to commemorate the brave Anglo-Saxon warriors, especially leader of the Saxons, King Harold. Battle Abbey was built where he fell. A rather noble gesture by King William, I think. Where they actually fought the battle is just an English field and stands out about as much as nothing. The signs weren't very informative, mostly a lot of, "And the Brave King Harold rallied his warriors!" sort of thing.
The Abbey is very beautiful inside. Very bare, and the years have eaten the polish from the stones, but the vaulted ceiling is still as awesome as it could have ever been. Even though it is not very big, and even though the ages have dimmed it's glory, somewhat, you can still get the feeling that the Abbey was once a work of perfection. They had some of the storage areas still about, and some garden walls were still standing, but the actual original church built was torn down by some idiots in the 18th century. If you know me, you know my extreme dislike for people who destroy ancient buildings or statues, or any art (do not get me started on the heretical burnings of the Alexander the Great's Libraries!!!).
Well, across from the Abbey is a large castle, which is still used today as a school. Lucky kids, I say.
Speaking of kids, in the Garden, there were these things lying on the ground. These things that come off the trees that are called, "Conkers". Apparently, children in the U.K. collect them, tie strings to them, and hit other kid's conkers with their own. If your conker cracks someone else's conker, you've got a good conker. And the point of all of it is to find the best conker out there. Sounds like fun to me! They look like avocado pits. I had never seen them before. Anyway...
The museum was interesting. There were a lot of old Monk's work and some tiles that were on the floor. The most priceless items are on display at the British Museum, so I will have to go there to check it all out. I went up some of the little staircases and found a tiny little room in one of the towers. It was well lit, so I know I wasn't up there illegally or anything, but it was cool because the door hinge pegs were still embedded in the stone.
I was feeling quite sick at this point, so I decided to leave and got a Coke across the street at the little Post Office and joined the others at the van.
It was a pleasant ride back with Charlie. He got a new book: A Thousand Years on the Same Street and kept asking me what I liked better? The building from the 1700s, or the building from the late 1800s? Would I like living in 1000ad, or in the 1400s? Etc. We held our breath going through the tunnel, and I counted how long he could hold his breath (43 seconds...not bad for a 10 year old). He asked me how long I could do it (about a minute) and to show him, but was seriously feeling ill, and I knew I would start coughing uncontrollably if I tried to hold my breath. So, I told him no. He wasn't too disappointed. He just kept asking me to time him until he got too lightheaded.
Riding around with Charlie was the highlight of my weekend. I miss being around little kids. I really do like being around them. So, it was nice to get a break from all the weird college students for a while (yes, I do realize what I just said. I mean it tongue-in-cheek).

Sunday, Oct. 4th, I was sick. And very sick. So, I quarantined myself to my room and (only if completely necessary) the kitchen. I listened to John Mayer, Jack Johnson, and Jason Mraz and slept all day, practically. And I wrote in this journal.

Monday, Oct 5th, I went to my first two classes in five months (THANK GOODNESS): Popular Music and how it is a cultural medium and used by the media.
And
Propaganda, Persuasion, and Political Communication. There is an entire week devoted to Political comics. I am so happy I am in this class.
The rest of the day was spent writing in this journal until 1am and talking to friends.

Tuesday, Oct. 6th, I did not have class, so I did some shopping and explored Brighton a little more. I like the off-the-main-drag Brighton much better than the touristy City Centre. It's much calmer there and friendlier too, in some ways.

Which brings me up to date for today: Wednesday the 7th of the month of October in the year two-thousand and nine. Just like my diploma would say... if I were graduating today. Which I am not.
Today I had Science, Technology, and the Media class, which I am extremely excited about. I was so excited I could barely sit still in class (or was it the caffeine?... I think it was more the subject matter). Basically, the class explores why and how science is used in the media, how it is represented, and why culture plays into what gets researched, what gets discovered, and what gets reported (three entirely separate processes, by the way). It is something I am extremely interested in, and I would love to have a job one day translating scientific text into laymen terms. It's something that would be helpful for both the medical/science world and the non-scientific world. I could help a lot of people understand science better, which would leave to more interest in science as a career. I could be the awesome, almighty middle-(wo)man! Seriously, I could use my love for science and my love for writing to help other people cope with technology. I think that would be awesome.
All of the classes I am taking are graded (the entire year, mind you) on either one or two things. Mostly an essay 60-100%, depending on the class, with a presentation 10-40% of the class. SO, in light of that fact, it's a very good thing I like to read and write essays, because that is practically all I will be doing. Hooray! Seriously, it's not a bad system. However, if it were introduced in the States all of a sudden, into the lives of students who have studied under the test-taking way, for lack of a better term, I am pretty sure most of them would fail. I could be wrong, but the reason why I think this is because in American educational institutions, students are frequently "checked up on" through tests and short assignments (designed to check if the student is absorbing the material properly), giving the student leeway to get a "feeling" for the class, and the professor and how they grade. They would get no chance of this in this England way of teaching. However, since it is a one shot, or you fail sort of system, that might scare American students enough to put in all the time necessary.
I just hope I don't fail miserably. I doubt I will, but you can never be too vigilante about protecting yourself from the, "Aw, I wouldn't do that" syndrome. Never underestimate your own stupidity, that's what I say. Or, never overestimate your own intelligence.

Well, anyway, today, I also played frisbee out in the "inclement" weather. Today, it was inclement at it's best. We're talking flash-flood amounts of water almost all day. We were lucky it cleared up for the hour we played out at "The Level" (a park near City Centre). It was so much fun! I love Ultimate Frisbee and I love the club. So many nice people. Apryl, Daye, and I were the only girls today, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. We all had fun. We had a few "newbs", a term for "newbies", in case you didn't know. Sometimes used as a derogatory term in the States, but here it is used quite openly and without any hint of malicious intent. Anyway, it was fun, needless to say. I am pretty sure it will always be fun. I don't think anyone would let it get too serious. We had to stand in the bus for the first time ever (I have never seen it so crowded), but that was okay, because we rode to the end so most people left before we got out of town.
We got back to the flat, and I wrote in this, until Apryl sent me a text asking where I was... I had forgotten entirely about our mandatory residential meeting at 6:15. So, I ran changed clothes ultra-quick and ran through the heavy "dew" to the Checkland Building. I felt terrible I was late, but at least I didn't miss it entirely.
Apryl and I walked back to the flat and found a lonely hard hat sitting on a stair... we thought about it. But, we didn't. Steal it, that is. (once again, tongue-in-cheek).
And since then, I have been sitting here, eating my sour candy (I am trying to savor it to make it last), and writing in this journal.
Sometimes, it seems as if this place brings out the immature trickster in me. The one that used to play practical jokes quite regularly. I keep getting devilish ideas, and how to carry them through... not like I didn't get them before, but it seems as if England has presented me with a fresh, brand new batch of opportunities. Heh heh heh (evil laugh).
So, I'm just now getting warmed up and have no other events on which to expound... what can I possibly say now?
I am hungry.
Time for food.
Ciao!
Hannah

The Tour of Ediburgh: Day 2 of Scotland

Wednesday, September 30th
The day before, Apryl discovered the existence of a free tour starting from in front of the Starbuck's on High Street (the Royal Mile) at 9:30 am. It was to be a three and a half hour long walking tour of Edinburgh. So, we arose early and gathered our things, had some breakfast in the lobby of the High Street Hostel (delicious croissants and jam!) and then walked up to the meeting place. We met our tour guide Fred, a young man of about 20, or there abouts, with dark hair and olive skin. He was very informative for everything I am about to type (and probably a lot I have accidentally left out) came from Fred.
First of all:
Starting from Starbuck's, our first stop along to tour was the City Chambers (Tattoo). Back in the old days (before 17-something), Edinburgh was known as "old Reekie" for it's terrible pervasive smell. The methane content in the air was said to be so bad, it would settle in small spaces and spontaneously ignite. All of this was because of the moat the old Edinburgh built for extra protection. In 17-something, the elite, wealthier class decided they had had enough of the wretched smell, and decided to build New Edinburgh. This improved the town greatly, and was from then on known more as a cultural mecca and less as a smelly sewer.
After visiting the City Chambers, we moved across the street, in front of St. Giles "Cathedral" to the spot where the medieval marketplace was held. In order to illustrate the punishment for theft, Fred asked someone to volunteer their friend. Yes, Apryl volunteered me. To which, Fred went on to explain, in Medieval times, if I were hungry and decided to steal some, let's say cabbages or cucumbers, and if I got caught, I would have my ear nailed to the public announcement stage for 24 hours. If I could not stand the public humiliation of having refuse thrown at me, and little kids kicking my shins, I would tear my earlobe from the door and be forever marked as a thief who couldn't take her own punishment. The funniest thing I thought in all of this was not that Fred grabbed my ear, but was the fact that, ironically, the two vegetables he named I would hypothetically steal are two of my favorite vegetables. Life is ironic. In Edinburgh, when King Charles the II was crowned King, he wanted to make the Scots love him (they hated his father for reasons later discussed) and so, got the brilliant idea to have free wine pour from the public announcement stage for 24 hours. Everyone was extremely happy at first, but blamed their horrible hangover on the king. Poor Charles II couldn't win for losing. Traditionally, the public announcement stage/pulpit was also used to announce the crowning of a new King or Queen to all of Scotland. In the antiquated past, it took exactly three days to ride on horse back from London to Edinburgh Scotland. And so, it will always be that in three days time someone will shout the name of the new King or Queen of England from the top of the stage. The Scots like tradition. I wonder who the next English Monarch will be?
Moving to the topic a few yards away, St. Giles "Cathedral", is not really a cathedral, because in order to be a cathedral, there must be a Bishop residing there, or in service there, or whatever. It was a cathedral for several years, and this brings up why the Scots hated Charles the I so much. Charles tried to implement the Catholic traditions of religion (putting a relay man between the congregation and God, and putting the King as a divine ruler) by rewriting the prayer books inserting Charles I wherever it said "God" and imposing a bishop at St. Giles. When the Scots drew up a Covenant protesting this intrusion into their religion, and only the intrusion into their religion (not the Kings taxes or anything else political), and they had hundreds of people sign the document, Charles I so graciously set out to hunt down and kill everyone with their names on the Covenant. The Covenanters they were come to be called. This is one of the reasons why Charles the II was nervous about being king. He wanted to impress the Scots so much, he had artisans make a statue of him. They made the statue out of lead, but made the naturally "wee" Charles II overly large for the statue horse. They also put him in Roman armor, to make him seem more powerful. So, when the Scots saw the statue, they saw Charles II going to a costume party riding a donkey. Every year, a pair of boys would climb the statue to place an iron crown on the statues head, celebrating the crowning of the King. The lead and iron chemically interacted and the iron eventually wore holes in the top of the head of Charles II. It started to fill up with water and the donkey began to look as if it were drunk, enhancing the ridiculous spectacle of the statue. They decided to drain the slumping statue by creating a hole... in the hind quarters. This didn't help Charles II. Finally, someone got the bright idea of plugging up the holes in the head. Charles II and his donkey were propped up and have been there ever since... except the donkey is starting to fall into the bad habit of "drinking" again. The car park in which this said statue was placed, was a graveyard for centuries, but the graves became so shallow with overcrowding, they bodies started to float to the surface. So they just removed them to outside the city except for one of a caretaker of the church, who is under carpark 23 marked only by a yellow rectangle and piece of glass in the church window.
Behind St. Giles, The "dirtiest place in Edinburgh". And it comes in the shape of a heart. Back in the day, the toll booth (used for collecting taxes) had a heart on it, where you would spit to show your contempt. Why a heart? I don't know. When the toll booth was gone, the city replaced it with cobblestone heart in the street. Technically, it is the only legal place to spit in Edinburgh. Since it is full of the disgusting germs of the human race, no real, traditional Scot would ever walk on the heart. When there's a football match, rivals in Edinburgh spit to show contempt for the Scottish team and the Scots spit for good luck. All good mucus all around!
We saw the oldest residence in Edinburgh, which had a Thistle above one window and a Fleur de Lis above the other. The alliance between France and Scotland is the oldest political alliance in Scotland, and was initially founded in a mutual contempt for the English. In a typical residential building, there would be the shop on the ground level, the shop owners on the floor above that, the elite on the next floor, and the workers/poor on the upper floors. They did this because people in the upper floors were less likely to survive one of the rampant fires that plagued Edinburgh (because of the methane from the dirty moat?).
Next place was Lady Stairs "close". A "Close" is the Scottish term for alley. Lady Stair's Close is where the most expensive place to live in Edinburgh. Traditionally, whoever lived there would have the close named after then, but after a while, with different people moving in all the time, they settled on Lady Stair, since she was the last person to live there before they made the change permanent. There was an exposed example of the trip step which acted as the burglar alarm for many households in Medieval Europe. Only the people living there would know where the trip step was located. The trip step is a shallow, irregular step, which, if stepped on unknowingly, will send the stair creeper falling down the stairs and crashing into some strategically placed pots at bottom of stairs. The house owner could then take the burglar and beat him to death (or near) and leave him outside for the police in the morning.
The Writers Museum in Lady Stair's Close is dedicated to Robert Burns, the Scottish poet. Poems about drinking and women and are therefore very popular in Scotland. Fred then busted out some IRN-BRU and declared it is illegal in the States. Apryl looked it up later and discovered it is illegal because of the dyes in it. It has that red dye that makes kids go crazy, or it causes cancer, or something. I'm rather uninformed about it. I just remember when they made it illegal. I think I was about 7 years old. Anyway, moving on.
Further down the close in the courtyard, Fred told us exactly why Edinburgh was "Old Reekie" the moat that was added for protection, then filled with all the refuse, and had a walkable crust of filth in some parts. Dis-gusting. When the chamber pots were dumped onto the street, dumper had to call out a warning, to which the walker below would say, "hold yer hand!". They had to start limited the times that refuse could be dumped so people wouldn't have to be dodging it all day, so 9am and 10pm became the set times. One ironic fact: the pubs closed at 10pm. Therefore, when the bars closed the people who were too drunk would get feces dumped on them if they weren't cognitive enough to call out, "hold yer hand". Can you think of an alternative saying used today of "fecal-visage" in reference to being drunk to obliteration? Yes, that is where the term comes from.
Next we walked by Edinburgh castle and learned about the witch burnings that were conducted there. Here are some of the criteria for a witch: If you were ginger and/or you had a birthmark. To test your witchiness, you were thrown into ye olde Reeky moat. If you drowned, then the devil was NOT holding you up and keeping you alive to finish his bidding (good for you, you died a true Christian death). If you did stay afloat (which was often the case thanks to that thick crust of grime previously mentioned), you were deemed a witch and often times your family had to pay for the wood for your burning. Ouch. Finally, in the 1970's, I think it was, there was a plaque erected for those that died in the witch burnings. Supposedly apologetic, it states: "They weren't all bad witches". There was also a historical story about 30 men defeating 400 knights at Edinburgh Castle because they found the man who knew the secret way up the castle, attacked at night, and killed many knights who were sleeping... I can't remember who that was...
We then meandered to Victoria Street where Burke and Hair lurked and became known as the "body snatchers". They are thought to have killed about 30 people (prostitutes, tourists, and homeless people). It all started when Burke's girlfriend was crying over the fact that the man upstairs owe her four pounds (a months wages in those days). To put it in perspective, a pint of beer cost 1 penny. In the old system, there are a lot of pennies to a pound! They got a bright idea and sold the man's body to the medical school, and made 7 pounds. They thought it was a good way to make money and started dragging the unwanted dead off to the medical school. But, they got greedy and the people weren't dying fast enough for them, so they started killing people. 15 of the deaths couldn't be solidly proven, although Burke and Hair were strongly suspected. To make it seem natural, they squeezed the air from their lungs after getting them drunk, then smothered them. Made it look like a natural death. This went on for months until a medical student recognized one of the bodies to be a perfectly healthy young woman alive only a few days before. The police began to be very suspicious, but it wasn't until they had eyewitness proof that they were confronted by police. Burke pointed the finger at Hair like a good friend and got him hung. Burke ended up running away and living a poverty-stricken life somewhere in mainland Europe. Didn't come to a good end. After that, the city began to give hundreds of bodies to the medical institute a year, rather than forbid any support of it (although there was a special legal clause, as in the case if the dead corpse owed money) to discourage this body selling, and the grave robbing.
We walked down the stairs to the Grass Market and passed some kids shooting nerf pellets at a little Oscar Award statue taped to the cobble stones... that as interesting. It is called the Grass Market because they sold Grass there. Duh.
This is also where they held public hangings. One famous story is of Maggie Dickson's pub. Maggie was married and then her husband left her. The law at the time said "til death do you part" in other words, you were married to someone until you, or they died. If you were deserted, it was pure shame and there was no work or anything to be had except disgrace. So, Maggie decided to run away and she went and worked in secret in another town as a barmaid, met and fell in love with the Bar owner's son, but couldn't marry him because she was already married. She became pregnant (according to the Pregnancy Law, if you became pregnant without telling anyone, you would be killed), so she hid it as "weight gain" for 7 months, then had a miscarriage, was discovered and sentenced to death because of the Pregnancy law (still in effect, not punishable by death, obviously). She was hung in the Grass Market in Edinburgh until "pronounced dead". On the way out of the marketplace in a coffin, the driver heard a banging and discovered a live Maggie Dickson. He took her back to the square, but she had already been pronounced dead and could not be hung twice for the same crime, so she was no longer married to her previous husband (til death do us part), married the son, and had a long happy family life. When she was older, she bought the pub across from the hanging spot and told all the people crying that they would be alright, she had been through the same thing and she turned out alright (gruesome). It has been known since as Maggie Dickson's Pub and is a famous one now.
Today, the Grass Market is a popular destination for stag and hen parties (bachelor and bachelorette parties) and is the only place in Scotland where someone was arrested for drunken debauchery at one in the afternoon. Although, while we were there, it was very quiet.
The Scots love deep fried everything. They will deep fry anything for three pounds, and consequently have the highest rate of heart disease in the UK. It was time for a break for Lunch, so Apryl and I wandered around the Grass Market and looked at various eating places and decided to visit the deep fried shop. I bought a deep fried Mars Bar and deep fried Haggis, and IRN-BRU (described by Fred as "Cream soda on crack"). "I'm so proud of you guys," said Fred.
The deep fried Mars bar was delicious and gooey. Haggis was also surprisingly tasty, despite knowing the ingredients (everything in the sheep but the meat, fat, and bones... yes, this includes the brain). But like Fred said, "ever have a frankfurter? Yeah, at least we KNOW what is in Haggis". It was very good, actually, but it was very heavy and I couldn't eat all of it. I think it would have been more enjoyable on a sandwich or with some rice... it had sort of a disturbing texture to it which was kind of unpleasant, but on some bread or rice, it would be unnoticeable. However, like I said, very good. Had lots of herbs in it.
After lunch went to the Greyfriars Abbey (where they signed the Covenant against Charles I) The Greyfriars Abby is home to the Greyfriars (there is not mysterious origins of words or locations in Edinburgh). The abbey is/was proud of the fact it was finished the same day the Pilgrim landed on Plymouth Rock in America. When excavating the graves of medieval times, it was discovered that most coffins had fingernail scratch marks on the inside, indicating that many people were buried alive. The doctors weren't very good at telling if people were dead. Most people drank from lead tankards, so this often put people into a deep coma, and were thought to be dead. To keep people from being buried alive, they started tying a string to the finger of the dead person and attaching it to a bell, above ground: "saved by the bell" in case the person woke up. They also set a relative on watch for every hour of the day and night for two weeks to see if the bell would ring and also to protect the body from grave diggers long enough until it was decayed enough to be useless to them. This is where the term "graveyard shift" came from.
There was actually a Grave Robber Guild in effect until the later half of the 19th century. If you could afford it, cages were employed for those with money to lock up the graves from the top to the bottom of the grave.
In the far corner of the Greyfriars graveyard, stands Bloody George McKenzie's Black Mausoleum. Bloody George McKenzie killed hundreds of Covenanters (the people that signed the petition against the religious impositions of Charles I). The Black Mausoleum has been particularly famous since 1995 when a homeless man "awoke" Bloody George, and a resulting 400 poltergeist reports from unrelated witnesses ensued. The last report was of a man found in 2002(?) in a coma outside the Black Mausoleum. I am uncertan of the date. It is said to be the most haunted place in Edinburgh. There are more paranormal reports and incidences recorded around the Black Mausoleum than any other haunted place in Edinburgh. A little way along the wall stood the gates of the open prison where Bloody George tortured 400 of the Covenanters. He would let them go if they signed a piece of paper that would say they were wrong and Charles I was the head of the church. Not one of them signed it. There were a variety of torture tactics: they were forced to sleep face down, and if they moved in the night, the comrades around them would be shot; they were hung by their wrists, had their fingernails ripped out, and all of this to make them to admit they were wrong. The open prison flooded often and many drowned rather than move during the night, so afraid to be the harm of their other inmates. A dark time for Scotland. In the end, it is said a total of 80 survived.
Somewhere in here, the one o-clock canon went off from the top of the Edinburgh Castle. To which, if you are a true Edinburgh Scot, you calmly check your watch, make sure it is one o'clock and calmly carry about your business. Tips to blend in are a good thing to have in your purse of disguises. For while the Scots are nice people, they hate the English, and they hate tourists, especially English tourists, but any tourist that doesn't cross the road properly (they hate this). I wouldn't want to upset a Scot, so I tried my best to blend in. And did a pretty good job, I guess. No one shouted at us or anything. A lot of people kept looking at me and looked as if they were going to burst out laughing, to which I turned to Apryl and asked, "I don't look particularly funny right now, do I?"
Greyfriars Bobby, the groundskeeper's dog lived for 12 years after his master's death and sat on his grave for those 12 years. He was and is a legend of canine obedience and devotion and many people from all over the world come to see his tombstone, but his grave is beneath the streets outside the Abbey's gates. Today, there is a sign that says, no dogs allowed. People leave weird things for Bobby, but mostly sticks at the memorial tombstone put up in his honor (since he wasn't determinably Christian or human). The weirdest thing was an envelope full of unused train tickets to various places with, "Bobby, come to London" or something like that written on the back of all of them. Weird.
J.K. Rowling sat in the Elephant Cafe, which is across from Greyfriars Abbey and George Hosier's school. From the grave yard she took some names for the characters (I didn't see any, although there is a stop on the London train called "Flitwick" which was the Charms professor... Oh, I am a geek), and the George Hosier's school was her inspiration for Hogwarts. At the Elephant Cafe, she wrote the first three books. They are very proud of this, they have a sign that says, "birthplace of Harry Potter" on the front window.
We left the Abbey and walked past the library and Scottish National Museum.
A good, sturdy kilt cost about 600 pounds, which includes the stockings, shoes, shirt, hat, band, pocket/pouch thing, everything. The whole getup.
I talked to Fred about the main Scottish Church, which is Protestant or Presbyterian. He didn't know how to pronounce Episcopalian, which was kind of funny. I told him about Charleston, S.C., he didn't know much about the Revolutionary war either.
We told him about how cool the Scott's monument was (he had never climbed it). Then we walked down to Princes Street and he told us the story about the Stone of Destiny, which is basically a rock that holds a prophecy, "Wherever this stone is is where the King of Scotland reigns". It was in Westminster Abbey for 300 years before being stolen by a college student John Hamilton and his friends. It was missing for four months before turning up at an Abby in Edinburgh only to be taken to Westminster Abbey again. It was finally, and hopefully permanently brought up to Edinburgh Castle again in 1996 sanctioned by Queen Elizabeth. And with this, the tour ended. The actual story was much longer and elaborate, and Fred put a great deal of vim and vigor into the account, but it is a little tedious to write.
The free tour is based on tips at the end and how well you think the guide did. It is the Edinburgh branch of Sandeman's New Europe educational tours: www.neweuropetours.eu I though I would give it a little plug because it was fun and informative.
Fred recommended some sights to see the next day and we parted ways. He was a cool dude. Very knowledgable and upbeat.
Putting our new found Scottish ways into action, on the way back to the Hostel, Apryl and I spit on the heart and totally frightened this tourist. Haha! It was funny to watch her jump. I didn't spit on her. But she was standing on part of the heart. I was happy to see I was not the only person who had spit there, there was plenty of mucus in the center besides my own.
We walked back past the Scott's monument and it was about 1:30pm. We walked up Cockburn Street where I got a satchel bag (I needed one, the little purse or the huge backpack weren't doing to right job and Apryl had been carrying my stuff around all day). So, we ate something, I think, I can't remember, and then we walked all the way down the Royal Mile to the Holyrood Palace (the Scotland residence of the queen) but we didn't go inside, we just took a look at it and the strange looking parliament building across the street and kept going. We made our way up the Salisbury Craigs (crags) and all the way to Arthur's Seat. The highest point in Edinburgh. We had the most awesome view, and we could not have asked for a more perfect day. The skies were mostly clear with light clouds flying by and the wind was so strong and refreshing, especially after such a long climb. It was not too warm, but not too cold. We looked down on Edinburgh. Oh, what a sight! To attempt mere words for expression is folly. I will only say I did my best not to spoil the moment by speaking at all.
On the way back down, we took a different path to a park and walked back along the park path. But not before laying in the soft grass of the hills of Scotland and looked at the clouds. Apryl rolled part of the way down the hill. It was so much fun. Apryl kept remarking how green the grass was. We walked back to the City of Edinburgh and walked/climbed up the hill to the National Monument, which was supposed to be a Parthenon type building (Edinburgh is known as the "Athens of the north") but they ran out of funds halfway through, so it looks like an ancient Roman ruin, or something. But it isn't. More monuments to writers and some nice buildings. A super old Canon. We had a lot of fun climbing around everything. You have free reign in Edinburgh. There are so many parks and historical sites you can climb around. It's so much fun. I want to go back. By that time, I'm pretty sure we had walked several miles, so we walked back over the North Bridge to the Hostel. I went to take a shower and realized I had no soap, and no shampoo. I had forgotten I had left it in the shower the other day and I guess they threw it away. So Apryl was nice enough to let me borrow hers.
We met a guy named Pete from Baltimore and had a long discussion about culture differences. Especially about the whole violence thing. How people in America really don't want to fight because someone could very well may die, whereas here, they just like to slug each other (this is from Pete's point of view). He was a construction worker currently in a bit of a slow time in construction and took six weeks off and was traveling around Europe. He was born in 1969. He was a very nice man, very talkative and sweet. We gave him some directions around Edinburgh and what we did that was really fun (such as the Scotts monument, but I warned him that he might have to squeeze through at the top, the staircase being barely wider than my hips).
We went down into the lobby again and I had some hot chocolate, looked at some really outdated books about Shastacovich (1953) and Astronomy (1987). And also found out that in Russian, the "P" character actually the "Err" sound.... there was a "Learn Russian" book, which was pretty cool. But I was so tired, it was really heavy reading. So I looked at the maps of the stars in the Astronomy book. They were screening "Transformers" for the movie of the night, and nothing against Shia LeBeouf, but those movies are so stupid. He's good in them, of course (I think he's a great actor), but Megan Fox isn't a very good actor. Really pretty, but not very good at acting. And all the animation and action scenes... it just bores me to tears, so I completely ignored it (wasn't very hard). Apryl wrote in her journal and charging her phone while I was reading (I probably should have written in my journal as well, but I didn't). Then we played a REALLY long pool game that took way more time than it probably should have (we were both doing terribly, I think because we were so tired). But we were very happy, although exhausted. It was awesome. We went to sleep early (around 9) and decided we would go see Edinburgh Castle in the morning. End of Scotland day two. Phew.

Scotland Day 1

Tuesday morning, the 29th of September, I awoke early and packed for the trip. We left Falmer at 9:21 and changed at Brighton to Gatwick. We got to Gatwick about 10:30am and had absolutely nothing to do until our plane left at 2:00pm. We got through security in a grand total of fifteen minutes and we didn't have to check in because we had no luggage to check and we had already checked in on-line before we left (we are so smart!). We walked around Gatwick, had some lunch, just looked around in all the duty-free stores full of a million different kinds of perfume. Talked to a man from Portugal who kept saying we were lucky to be from America, "the land of opportunity".
Every time you mention you are from America, people get all talkative and talk about their uncle or aunt or brother that lives there and how they would like to visit them, but never got an invitation. Or how they visited this state or that state, etc. Most people have heard of Idaho, but a lot of people still ask Apryl if New Mexico is in the U.S.A.
Well, anyway, I tried a duck and Hoisen sauce sandwich. Not being to sure of the duck I warily decided to try it thinking, maybe, duck isn't as bad as I remembered, and I was right. It wasn't bad at all. I think the duck I had four years previous was rather dry, or something. And the Hoisen sauce definitely helped the flavor of the duck. Duck is very dark, though, and oily, but it was still good. They don't like turkey here. You can hardly find turkey anywhere, it's rather depressing sometimes for an American.
Apryl had never had Toblerone, so I bought some and let her try it. She liked it, hooray! I love the stuff and ended up eating most of it... I couldn't help it.
We finally flew out of Gatwick and arrived in Edinburgh around 3:00, about 10 minutes early, which was cool. We walked to our Hostel from the bus stop at Waverley and chilled out for a bit, then we went out and walked around. We walked down High Street and the Royal Mile to the North Bridge. We walked along a street, I cannot remember the name of and came upon a Scottish Episcopalian Church. Being brought up as an Episcopalian, I was curious to see what would be inside, and it said it was open to the public, so we walked into a completely empty church. It always amazes me how quiet churches can be. Well, as luck would have it, there was a piano there, unlocked and open, just inviting someone to play it. There was literally no one there. I checked to make sure I would be bothering no one and began to play. I just played a little improvised song on the spot since I really had no music in my memory that would serve for such a quiet place. The only song I really have memorized is "The Minute Waltz" by Chopin, and that was definitely not the place to play it. The interior of the church was very beautiful and plain and simple. As we found out later, the Scots like to keep it simple and do not agree with elaborate religious showiness. They fight very hard against a lot of adornment that has nothing to do with God. They also believe there is a one-on-one connection with God and fought very hard to resist the imposition of the traditions of the Catholic church, which put a Bishop between the people and God, and made the King the head of the church, at least back in the day. But still, although the building was beautiful like almost all the buildings in Edinburgh, and the architecture was lovely, the adornment was rather plain, even by American church's standards. They had wooden chairs and very little glittering gold, or anything of that sort. It was a very nice church and I was so thrilled to be able to play a piano (it had been three weeks since I stroked the keys!). Even if for only a few minutes. So, we stayed there for about ten minutes and then moved on. We walked back to Waverley and saw a giant steeple/monument looking thing. We wondered what it was, so we crossed the bridge and road to find out. We discovered it was a monument to Sir Walter Scot and is the world's largest monument dedicated to a writer. Sweet. We payed the 3 pounds to climb to it's very top and got a terrific view of the city. Although it was a bit rainy and cloudy, it added to the sort of romantic, dramatic, gothic feeling the city has. The rain fits it. I think it was in that moment that I said, "I love Edinburgh" over and over to which Apryl replied, "No, really? I couldn't tell." Or something of that sarcastic nature. Apryl being very sarcastic. She's really funny, though.
The Scott's Monument is a spectacular piece of artwork. Beautiful in every aspect. With four buttresses arching over a large statue of Sir Walter Scott. The buttresses connect to form the first platform and then the spire with buttresses begins from there to the other levels. There are a total of four levels to the monument. The gargoyles are mostly of dogs, Scott, from what I can gather from the monument, was very fond of dogs. They were everywhere and all kinds. At the very top, there was a statue of Sir Scott again, with his dog looking down over the city of Edinburgh. It was absolutely lovely in every way.
Okay, so the little guy, he was actually an older gentleman, that took the three pounds was a Scotsman from Edinburgh and apparently was a little bitter he had lived there his whole life. But he was nice. And said we were just in time for the last tour, or whatever. We just climbed up and up the steep, spiraling stair case. A couple of times the walls got narrower as we were climbing, and that gave me sort of a sick sensation, but we just kept going up and I thought about the end of the stairs and that helped. I wasn't scared, but my knees were shaking for some reason. In fact, they were shaking going all the way back down the 247 steps we climbed up and all the way up Cockburn street until we got to the Potato Shop, which was a vegetarian/vegan, well, Potato Shop. Baked potatoes with all kinds of toppings. I had Cheese, onion, and Pineapple potato with butter and salt (mmm...) and this orange soda that I had never seen before. The flavor really isn't orange, but the can was, so I tasted it, and Apryl tasted it and said, "Tastes like Cream soda"... I thought it tasted faintly of children's tylenol. But it was still good. It was called Barr's IRN-BRU. At first I thought maybe it was a beer, but the ingredients were not that of an ale, so I bought it. The people in the Potato Shop were very nice, and we sat in their tiny corner booth and enjoyed our potatoes. I think it's funny that Idaho doesn't have a potato shop. I'm sure it would be just as popular as the Bagel Shop, especially in Moscow, especially if it were of the vegetarian/vegan variety. We walked up and down the Royal Mile a little more and then hoofed it back to the Hostel. It was getting dark about that time. I took a shower that night before going to the lounge downstairs for some hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was tasty. Cadbury's Dark...mmmm.... That was some seriously good hot chocolate. The hostel was really nice because it was only 20p for a towels and there was free bedding (where other hostels will charge you 5 pounds for a towel and bedding) and they gave you free use of the kitchen as long as you clean up after yourself (easy). And they provided, for free, the above said delicious hot chocolate (a definite plus). Apryl and I were both really tired, so we retired early. We thought we were going to be in an all female dorm room, but it turns out we were two of three girls in a hostel room with four other European guys that all slept in their underwear... and only their underwear. A little bit of a shock? Just a tad. But they minded their own business and we ours, so nothing came of it. Most of them came in really late and left early, or they were still asleep when we left, so the only thing I said to them was, as I was half-way asleep, "You can turn the light on if you want to, it won't bother me", to which they said, "oh, that's okay". So, that was that. End of day one. It was an awesome day.