Edinburgh: Weeks 2-5

Well, well, well, it's been a while, hasn't it?

A lot has happened over the course of the last four weeks. Courses have started and at this point are well underway. My first essay is due next Monday, and luckily I've managed to complete a somewhat satisfactory rough draft that hopefully I'll have finalized mid-week. No rest for the weary, though! I have two much longer essays due three weeks from tomorrow that I've no idea how to start, nor am I sure I've even read any material about which I'd like to write! But I can't deny that I am reading a lot; I'm averaging three to four books a week. I'd love to say that I'm enjoying all of the texts assigned in my courses, but that would be a lie. But I am liking some of the reading material.

My "Scottish Literature 2" course has me reading the most texts, yet has offered me the fewest enjoyable ones thus far (though I loved Swift's Gulliver's Travels!). My third-year seminar, "Sovereign Bodies: Tragedy" has a syllabus that offers a mix of plays from 1300-1625; we're reading quite a few Shakespeare plays and of course I am excited about those. Some of the other plays we're touching upon are excruciatingly difficult to understand (and even read), as many are written in very old forms of English. But the challenge is great! And I love, love, LOVE my "Edinburgh in Fiction" course, which has me reading books spanning the 1700s through the early 2000s, including crime fiction by Ian Rankin! So at least there's one course with which I can honestly say I'm in love. And the best part about my week is that I've no classes on Friday, affording me wonderful three-day weekends every week. I have SO much work here and very little free time to myself, but it's nice to carve out at least one day a weekend for some quality "me" time and dedicate it exclusively to exploring the city or doing a bit of travelling.

Speaking of travelling and exploring, I've done a fair bit of it since my last blog post. On September 22nd, I took a wonderful day trip with my friends Ahlam and Chloe to the charming little town of Balloch, which sits smack-dab on the shores of Loch Lomond, Scotland's largest loch. While the town of Balloch hasn't a ton to offer in the way of more commercialized endeavors, its marina is beautiful and I absolutely loved walking through Balloch Castle Country Park. The sprawling green lawns, diversity of trees (with which Ahlam was obsessed!), and views of the loch were absolutely amazing. Balloch Castle itself, which was originally built in 1238 but was replaced in 1808 with its current structure, was a bit disappointing, as it's been inactive for years and today is closed to the public. When viewed from the loch itself, however, the Castle seemed to shine in all its former resplendent glory. Or maybe I just love castles.

We meandered down the hill on the back side of the castle (you can see it in the picture above) and made our way to a lovely little dock area where, believe it or not, a triathlon was commencing! (This explained the confusion we had experienced earlier in our walk, when myriad runners kept passing us by in various states of dress/dryness.) The views from the dock were phenomenal. We could see the highlands rising up in the distance and I felt so incredibly small and unimportant. This is the first time that I've truly felt the beauty of Scotland thrust itself upon me with its greatness. I can't get over how beautiful it was! It was so beautiful. SO BEAUTIFUL.

The three of us ended up grabbing lunch at this cute little restaurant. We ordered Strongbow and delicious pot pies, but the best part of our meal was seriously the haggis. Ahlam and I ordered a slice of it because I've been wanting to try it since the moment I arrived in Scotland. IT WAS SO DELICIOUS. Chloe photographed the process and you can literally see the moment where we both think to ourselves "hmm, this is really good." We ended up not only finishing the haggis (Ahlam proudly posed for a celebratory photograph), but then licked the plate clean with our fingers. Yes. It was that good.

We concluded our day with a relaxing boat ride on Loch Lomond itself, which provided ample opportunities to take in the impossibly perfect views. The best part about Loch Lomond is that it actually lies on the Highland Boundary Fault that separates Scotland's highlands and lowlands, and you can see the fault as it cuts across the loch and the surrounding land. I was amazed by what I saw. If you go to see any loch in Scotland, pick this one. You seriously won't regret it. There are 30 islands on the loch, and they're all so cute and quaint. Some are even inhabited, though never by very many people. We also saw a wedding party posing for photographs on one of the loch's banks!

We concluded our trip with a group photo, though I should mention that the man who took it for us, while very polite and sweet, didn't really know what he was doing. Ah well!

I had plans for the following weekend to visiting the town of Stirling and to explore its famous castle. Unfortunately, the passing of my beautiful, wonderful cousin, Avalanna Routh, made this impossible, but I was fortunate and blessed enough to be able to come home for the funeral and be with my family for the better part of a week. Av was a beautiful, perfect, perfect little girl, and she is missed every day by those who love her very, very much.

Needless to say, adjusting back to life in Scotland has been tough, and I find it a bit more difficult to get myself "out there" and moving these days. I'm doing my best though! Last weekend, in an ode to MHC's Mountain Day, I hiked Arthur's Seat with Emily, Anarkalee, and my friend Mel (who managed it all in heeled boots!). The weather could not have been more ideal. I think it was the warmest that it's ever been since I first arrived at the beginning of September. The hike itself is actually not as easy-going as one might think, but the effort we exerted to reach the top was immediately worth it upon reaching the summit. WHAT A VIEW. This is the second time since I've been in Scotland where I've felt unbelievably small, and I love the reality check it provides. But mostly I just love soaking up the views. They're utterly incredible. We could see all of Edinburgh just laying there at our feet.

This past week has been very busy what with all the books I've had to read and the paper I took it upon myself to write a week in advance. I found some time for fun, too, though. On Tuesday night, to celebrate my friend Mel's birthday, we went to see Cameron Mackintosh's new production of "The Phantom of the Opera" at the Edinburgh Playhouse. Now, I have seen the movie before, and of course I know the music from the show, but I've never seen an actual performance of the show. IT WAS BRILLIANT. Absolutely breathtaking and mind-blowing. The woman playing Christine was totally not your normal "Christine" type, but she was beautiful and her singing divine. As for the man playing the Phantom - there is no adjective of which I know that can adequately describe how absolutely phenomenal he was. His voice, his acting, his stage presence, everything about him was (literally) pitch-perfect and he completely moved me. He also made me cry at the end. Also! We were seated about six rows from the stage, so we had great seats! The best part about them? We were situated pretty much right underneath the chandelier, and when it shattered at the end of Act I, actual pieces of the chandelier fell onto us. Mel had some in her hair. IT WAS SO COOL.

This past Friday, my friend Julia and I went to the Scottish National Gallery to see a temporary exhibit entitled "Symbolic Landscapes," featuring two beautiful works of Van Gogh's. So let's be honest, the only reason I went was basically just to see the pieces by Van Gogh. I would have eventually wandered my way into the SNG at some point this semester, but with a motivation as strong as my favorite painter's works being right at my fingertips, I couldn't resist. We also explored the Gallery's permanent collection, which has a number of beautiful (and huge!) impressionist pieces. Afterwards, we grabbed pizza at this tiny excuse for a pizza joint, and then bought ourselves red velvet cupcakes that were practically the size of our faces, but were so delicious. And later that afternoon I booked my train tickets to London with Ahlam! We're planning to go at the end of November. Now all we have to do is find a place to stay...

This weekend has been rather quiet otherwise, as I've spent most of it reading and writing. The upcoming weeks promise to be really great, though! I plan to visit the National Museum of Scotland this Friday and spend most of my day exploring it to my heart's content. And next Thursday, Mel and I are going to see "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at the Lyceum Theatre. It's my favorite Shakespeare comedy, and although I've seen it performed numerous times, I can't resist taking in another performance. Finally (and perhaps most importantly!), I am traveling to the Highlands at the end of the month with my friend Maria, and I could not be more excited about it!

My apologies for the length of this blog post. I seem to have difficulties writing often, which leads to marathon posts such as this one. But, as always, thank you for sticking with me.

So I was reading Richard II this afternoon.

And I fell asleep. For four hours.

Afternoon = gone.
Progress on Shakespeare = none.
Sam = defeated by cold room and solace of comfy bed.

Seriously, couldn't there be a couch in our flat? And maybe a warm room within which to put said couch? Or, at the very least, just a warm room?

Little things like these make me miss home a lot.

Edinburgh: Week 1, Part 2

Hello everybody!

Here I am halfway through my second full week in Edinburgh, and things have gotten much busier. (Just the way I like my life to be!) Classes started on Monday, so I've been a bit busy and only just now have time to sit down and recap the rest of my "Freshers Week" here at Uni. There are lots of photos in this post (yay!); feel free to click on any of them for a better look.

little things.
Last Tuesday, all of the exchange students (some 2,000 of us) met up for an informational meeting. I wouldn't even mention this but for the fact that, during the meeting, I overheard two Americans behind me complaining about "how hard it is to meet other Americans." I had to check myself, because I really wanted to turn around and smack them in the face. Why would you travel abroad with the intention of meeting Americans? The whole point of studying in another country is to meet people from different cultures. And here they were lamenting the fact that boring old Americans were seemingly few and far between. I have two messages for them: 1) students from the United States comprise the vast majority of exchange students here, so I'm not sure where you are looking, and 2) you're stupid.

I successfully got into all of the courses I wanted! My third return visit to the Visiting Student Office was triumphant. I am now taking three English courses, two at the third-year level: a course about tragedy within sovereign bodies between 1300 and 1625; a course about Edinburgh as it is portrayed in fiction and as a space within which to write fiction; and a course surveying the 18th and 19th centuries of Scottish literature. Since I'm a double major at home, I've never taken so many English courses in a single semester, and the course load both intimidates and excites me. I'm set to read about 40 or so books this semester...no social life for me! Ah well. The good news is that I don't have class on Fridays,  which enables me to travel quite a bit more. And to read. A lot. Reading reading reading. (I'll write more specifically about my courses in my next blog post.)

I had the best hot chocolate OF MY LIFE last week at a little Italian eatery. It's like they melted a chocolate bar and added a teeny bit of milk. Seriously, it was SO GOOD. I made Emily, Ahlam, and Anarkalee all try it as well, and we agreed it was positively heavenly. Definitely worth a return visit.

I am proud to announce that I officially know my way around the center of the city! This is a huge accomplishment, and one that I worked hard to attain (my tired map can attest to the frequency with which I unfolded and folded it last week). But now I can ably navigate the key areas of Edinburgh, and it feels amazing not to rely on visual aides anymore. The best part is that now I feel comfortable exploring off the beaten path - the little side streets, winding passageways, and short cuts that lend Edinburgh its true charm.

St. Giles' Cathedral.
Last Wednesday I visited St. Giles' Cathedral. One of the oldest kirks in all of Scotland, parts of the structure itself date back to 1124. The Cathedral is absolutely stunning: it is huge, with beautiful stalls and the most intricate stained glass. The organ was my favorite part. It is positively mammoth in size (check out a picture of it here) and it played such lovely music. Unfortunately, the public isn't allowed to take photographs without a fee, and since I am broke, I let this experience be one for my memory alone. Still, if you're interested in what St. Giles' interior looks like, click here.

Edinburgh Castle.

Last Thursday, I made my way up High Street to Edinburgh Castle, the earliest parts of which date back to about A.D. 600. It was built upon ancient volcanic rock, which is kind of awesome, and it is visible for miles in every direction. (I should know--I have a clear view of it from the kitchen window of my flat!) The Castle has been subjected to countless sieges and invasions over the course of its history, and much of what remains today serves primarily as a military garrison. Still, the Royal Palace was quite awesome to behold. It includes the chamber wherein Mary Queen of Scots (yes, the deliciously devilish Mary) gave birth to James VI! The rooms today are sparsely furnished, of course, because very little of the original furniture survives. Still, the rooms themselves were impressive; the moldings and crests on the fireplaces were especially beautiful.

I'll admit that I was slightly bummed that there wasn't more of the actual castle to see, but I suppose that's what the other thousands of castles in Scotland are for!

Also within the complex are the Scottish Crown Jewels, featuring some breathtaking pieces that apparently weigh as much as a small child. (I suppose when you have the money, the bigger the better, right?) Featured in the chamber with the Crown Jewels is the Stone of Destiny, a historically important block of sandstone revered as a holy relic and rumored to have been the pillow for Jacob (yes, biblical Jacob). In later years, kings of Scotland were crowned upon the Stone. Today it sits on exhibit at Edinburgh Castle, but its legacy makes it quite a bit of fun to see.

Across from the Royal Palace in the upper courtyard of the Castle is the Great Hall, which is absolutely huge, very echoey, and features a ceiling built from the hull of a ship. It is seriously one of the coolest and most impressive things I have ever seen. The Hall also consists of some gorgeously carved window seats, some beautiful antique chandeliers, and a few simple suits of armor.

Across from the Great Hall is the Scottish National War Memorial, a tribute to all of the soldiers who fought and died in WWI. Stepping inside the large stone building, I immediately felt a sense of reverence, one which deepened when I began to sift through the huge volumes filled with the names of the deceased. I even found an entry for a Donald MacMillan, born in Campbeltown Argyllshire, who died on August 17th, 1916. MacMillan is my family's clan. I found one of my relatives. It was such a surreal, moving moment.

Other neat things about Edinburgh Castle include the National War Museum of Scotland, which featured a great exhibit on the history of the bagpipe (I'm a dork, I know); St. Margaret's Chapel, built in 12th century and today the oldest building in Edinburgh; and Mons Meg, a cannon from the 1400s that weighs more than five tons (and is utterly useless as a weapon since it would destroy pretty much everything within a significant radius, not to mention sink the ships for which it was intended).

Perhaps the best part of Edinburgh Castle, though, are the absolutely amazing views that it provides. Since it's situated so far above the rest of the city, it allows for stunning panoramas, and some of the city's architecture, viewed from above, is even more brilliant than when seen up close.

I also made two new friends during my excursion to the Castle--Kaiti and Hina. After a pleasant two hours of exploring the grounds together, we decided a commemorative photograph was in order. A sweet elderly couple from Georgia took our picture, but the winds seemed to have their own plans in mind. Ah well. Such is life in Edinburgh.

Underground Vaults.
Last Thursday I also took a night tour of the Underground Vaults. My "ghost tour" consisted of an eccentric (but highly effective) guide named Emily, outfitted in cloak and all, who led us on a trip around historic areas of Edinburgh's Old Town (including a parking lot built on top of the city's oldest cemetery) before finally leading us into the Vaults that lie beneath the street of South Bridge. Emily told some highly entertaining stories about the Bodysnatchers (naughty, naughty people), as well as some more recent tales about ghostly inhabitants of the Vaults. There are over 150 rooms in the Vaults, but apparently only three of them seem to be haunted. I'm not sure what my beliefs are as they pertain to ghosts, but I will say that my hands felt weirdly cold while I was in the Vaults (much colder than they'd felt when I was outside), even with my gloves on. Strange, no?


St. Andrews.

On Saturday, I made a trip out to St. Andrews, which lies on the east coast of Scotland, on the bay of the North Sea. Let me just say that I am completely charmed by the place! It is so clean and green and scenic and beautiful. This, I'm sure, was well-aided by the fact that it was a beautiful 65 degrees and sunny with very little wind. Still, though, St. Andrews is wonderful, especially if you're looking for laid back exploration. It's a very economically comfortable area, which affords it the ability to have some of the most well-manicured lawns I have ever seen. I spent my first hour in the town just wandering with my friend Julia along North Street, which lies along the coast of the North Sea, taking in the house fronts with their darling colored doors and the sight and smell of the waters just a few meters away. The cliffside is very steep, but the views are beautiful, with birds flying over the water and the smell of salt overhead.

We also passed by St. Andrews' Links, the world-famous golf course. It was also perfectly manicured and green. But of course. St. Andrews is the birthplace of golf, after all. Next, we explored St. Andrews Castle, which wasn't much of a castle at all, since it's now in ruins. Still, what's left today is impressive, especially when viewed from afar along the cliffs by the water.

Julia and I grabbed lunch at this really neat restaurant called "The Glass House," which is a tiny little eatery that used to be a Salvation Army but has since been converted. I had a delicious sausage, leek, and mushroom flatbread pizza, possibly some of the best pizza I have ever had. We then began our afternoon by exploring St. Andrews Cathedral, also in ruins. It must have been utterly enormous back in the day, because what's left of the structure today is massive.

It was so interesting to stroll among the gravestones and read the epitaphs, and to gaze up at the staggeringly-high remnants of the Cathedral's original structure. By far the best moment of the day (and the most rewarding) was climbing the 155 steps up to the top of St. Rule's Tower. Upon reaching the top, we were greeted by soaring panoramic views of the town and the North Sea beside it. It was absolutely breathtaking. And also very windy. But of course.

We ended our day by visiting part of the campus of St. Andrews University, the oldest and most prestigious university in Scotland, now famous for two graduates by the names of William and Kate. The campus was absolutely gorgeous-- more flowers, more stone buildings, more green grass--and if anything, it made me miss Mount Holyoke so very, very much!

Thanks for sticking with me through such a long post! I'll hopefully be posting more pictures on Facebook soon. I have a 500-page novel to get through by Monday, however, so we'll see what happens. Still, I have enjoyed my time here so far immensely, and I just hope it keeps getting better! I'm feeling less lonely than I initially did, although I do experience huge bouts of homesickness from time to time. I'm assuming that once my courses swing into high gear, I'll have very little time to think about it at all. Here's hoping I retain some semblance of a social life with my crazy reading schedule...we shall see.

So what's next? Finishing out my first week of classes, reading that 500-page tomb of Sir Walter Scott's (among other books), hiking Arthur's Seat (weather dependent, of course), and a day trip to Loch Lomond this weekend! Stay tuned for my next blog post.

Cheers!

Edinburgh: Week 1, Part 1

Well here I am in perpetually-overcast Edinburgh, Scotland!

Three days in and I am finally starting to feel a little less lost. It's a wonderful feeling, though I definitely don't feel at home yet.

I'm not sure what exactly to share with you all (few and far between as you readers are!), but since this blog is also for my own benefit (my memory is faulty at times), I'm going to write as much as I can remember. Feel free to skim!

the flight over.
I wouldn't comment on this but for the fact that the First-Class seats on British Airways are hysterical. They're arranged in modules or pods, and they look like little hamster mazes. Maybe I was overly amused by them (I have always flown Economy, so I think I'm just used to cramped rows of seats), but take a look for yourself here - they're quite odd. During my layover in Heathrow, I met a fellow American traveller named Rachel, who is studying photography at the Glasgow School of Art for a semester. We got terribly lost in the airport terminal together, but it was all good, and it was nice to have somebody to chat with. I also need to make a minor note here that during my flight over, I watched "The Hunger Games," and while I've never read the books before (I've been meaning to!), I have to say that the movie was SO GOOD. Seriously though. I understand the cultural obsession a bit more now.

moving in to my flat.
I have a cute little single in a flat that faces a beautiful green golf course, with brown stone buildings rising up in the distance. It's a lovely view and I'm always tickled to wake up in the morning to find lads in full golfing attire putting around on the green. My single itself is small, but I find it really cozy, and all my clothes fit (Mum, you'd be proud!), so that's good. The very first thing I noticed when I opened the door to my room was a huge brown spider on my floor. It is now dead. The end.

getting around.
Day 1: 
The first day I arrived, I took it upon myself to acclimate to the time difference. Determined not to crash in my bed from jetlag, I set out on a quest to buy a duvet for my bed as well as some groceries. After about two hours of very misguided self-navigation (supplemented by well-intentioned directions that proved to be less than helpful), I found my way to a store called "Argos." This store can only be described as a fast-food restaurant for material, non-edible objects. Except it's also on Ikea-strength steroids. You look for what you want in this huge five-pound catalogue, which has pretty much everything a person could ever need to buy, and then pay at the counter for your order. After about a five minute wait, you pick up all your stuff at a counter where they've packaged it all up for you. It was a bizarre shopping experience, but a humorous one nonetheless. The kicker was having to carry the huge duvet that I bought all the way home, which was about three and a half miles away. I also got lost on the way home. Whoops.

Day 2:
Emily arrived on Sunday and we made our way over to Princes Street to buy SIM cards for our phones. I am proud to say I perfectly remembered how to get there, and we didn't get lost once! We managed to get my phone set up, but only after I accidentally jammed the SIM card into the wrong part of the phone and had to have a really kind (and amused) Scotsman help me take it out with his safety pin. We also raided Pound Stretcher for a disgusting amount of necessities.

That evening I had a relaxing dinner with my flatmates, two of whom are from Scotland (Scorcha and Hebe) and another who's studying abroad like me (Michaela). I think (and hope!) they're all beginning to warm up to me. Maybe? Pretty please?

Last night Emily and I went out for the first time. We hit up a bar called "The Three Sisters," where two somewhat incoherent Irishmen chatted us up, one of whom was quite charming (the other was very, very intoxicated). We ended our night at a second bar, "Frankenstein," where we met two Americans and a Brit, danced the night away, and even did a karaoke rendition of Miley Cyrus' "Party In the USA" (but of course).

Day 3:
Today I didn't wake up until 1 p.m. (I still haven't overcome my jetlag!) I successfully navigated my way to George Square, where I stopped by the Visiting Students Office and managed to adjust my courses to make them somewhat more pertinent to my studies at Mount Holyoke. I plan to go back later this week to try my hand again - I am determined to weasle my way into a third English literature course!

After lunchtime, I met up with Anarkalee (finally!); we shopped around Nicholson and Princes Streets. Emily and I visited Primark for the first time, where I bought a very cheap pair of bright pink rainboots.  I will have to restrain myself from buying a bajillion new pairs of shoes there, although some of their jumpers are worth a second look.

Today was my flatmate Hebe's 19th birthday! I don't know her very well yet, so I wasn't sure whether or not to get her something small. In the end, I bought her a really cute card and snuck it under her door when she wasn't looking. Earlier tonight, Emily, Rachel (her flatmate from England who's a sweetheart) and I went grocery shopping at the Scotmid Co-Op (I freaking love co-ops!), where I bought food for the rest of the week (and subsequently went broke as a result). Looks like everything else I do this week will have to be free. Tomorrow I plan to go to Edinburgh Castle...I'm excited!

things I've noticed.
01. It's a very "couply" city. Everyone is paired up - there are so many couples on the street. Literally every few passersby are holding hands. They're adorable (helped forever by the fact that they're Scottish), but it makes me acutely aware of my singularity in the city, and the fact that my own wonderful partner in crime is 3100 miles and an ocean away.

02. I am perpetually in a liminal sartorial space, suspended between needing my coat because it's freezing and rejecting it because it's stuffy and causing me to sweat. This would be fine but for the fact that these intervals occur within minutes of each other, making me the crazy jacket lady who can't seem to get with the weather patterns.

03. Streets are labeled on the buildings, not with signposts. This took me about twenty minutes into my first-ever stroll around Edinburgh to realize, which was about twenty minutes too late.

04. There is no rhyme or reason to the city's layout. And to think people tease Boston for its cowpaths. The tangled streets are definitely part of Edinburgh's charm, however, and I love, love, love the cobblestone streets!

05. I can't keep bits of English and Scottish accents from creeping into my own speech. It's a huge problem, and I'd hate to offend anyone, but I do it subconsciously. Maybe because I'm a theatre major? Maybe just because those accents drive me wild.

06. The accents here. I freaking love them. I seriously cannot get enough. One of my roommates is from Inverness, and she has this really thick accent. Another roommate is from London, but has a slight Scottish accent herself. I love, love, love listening to them talk. I don't even mind asking people on the streets for directions, because I get to listen to their mesmerizing accents.

07. When you start walking seven miles in three hours, you realize that we don't walk at Mount Holyoke as much as we think we do. At all.

08. We refrigerate much more in the US than they do here in the UK. Things I was surprised to find unrefrigerated: eggs, carrots, strawberries, lettuce. I'm paranoid about all of my produce (especially since the UK doesn't use preservatives), so I'm refrigerating everything anyway.


It's a cold, dreary, wet evening out and I believe I'll be spending it inside, with the company of some fellow Mount Holyoke women.

I know that was a lot, and I apologize if I lost any of you along the way! Thanks for sticking with me.

Packing Woes and Other Pre-Departure Thoughts

I am sitting on my four-poster bed surrounded by clothes. My clothes are literally engulfing me and I look ridiculous lounging here, enveloped within them. I should probably transfer these intimidating stacks to my suitcases, but I cannot seem to find the motivation.

This shouldn't really come as a surprise to friends and family. Anyone who knows me well knows that the one thing about which I can be fully counted on to procrastinate is packing. Always. Always, always, always. I don't know why I avoid it so much - I really don't even hate it (my family members would kindly disagree with that statement). 

But I honestly don't hate it. I just don't like doing it. Maybe it's the effort and the time commitment involved. Sometimes I wonder if I avoid packing because I am figuratively (and literally) putting myself into a box: here are all the clothes I am bringing with me, and during the next four months of my life, these clothes - only these clothes - will define my days sartorially. Packing a suitcase feels like a huge form of dictation, one of which I am not sure I wish to be a part. 

I have no idea what the next four months of my life will look like, and that both excites me and intimidates the hell out of me. Packing seems so authoritative; the clothes and shoes I place into these suitcases are the closest things to stability that I'll have, at least during the first few days and weeks of my journey, and here I am without any sort of confidence in my packing abilities.

This is why going to college in Massachusetts is so easy! I just throw all of my seasonally appropriate clothing and shoes into boxes and go. (I don't know how my friends who fly to Mount Holyoke with only two suitcases do it.) But here I am now, with two suitcases (giraffe-patterned...but of course) to my name. I am a two-suitcase traveller. This terrifies me. 

I hate being so dependent on material objects. This may seem laughable to some. I do love to dress well, and I own upwards of 70 pairs of shoes. Still, I take little comfort in knowing that, were I to lose either of these suitcases in the midst of my travels, I would be utterly screwed. (PLEASE, ALMIGHTY PACKING GODS OF HEAVEN, LET THIS UNFORTUNATE INDIVIDUAL NOT BE ME.)

That being said, here I am, on my bed, with the packing process 80% completed. I've laid out dresses, skirts, blouses, sweaters, jeans, cardigans, tights, scarves, and shoes. I'm taking ten pairs of shoes. Most people probably think I'm overpacking in the shoes department. I think I'm severely underpacking. (Welcome to my life.)

Now all that's left to do is throw everything into my suitcases, and pray that each one weighs less than a baby hippo. 

Today I exchanged some money for my trip into pounds. It felt strange holding the notes in my hand, so lightweight and foreign, with the Queen staring sternly into my eyes, no doubt laughing at the cringe-inducing exchange rate I had just endured in order to come into possession of her beautiful currency. Why does the exchange rate suck so bad? Come on, America. At least make your money a little prettier.

I've spent the last few nights shuffling through my Frommer's Guide to Scotland and highlighting, making notes, and marking off everything I want to see. I've created a tab system, because I'm a dork like that. Red for castles, museums, and architecture. Orange for food and bars (duh). Yellow for shopping. Green for nature, hiking, and all things active. Blue for villages, towns, cities. I've used so many tabs already, and my book looks like it vomited confetti. 

There is so, so, so much I want to see and explore, and I fear that four months will not be enough time to cover it all. I think I would honestly need years of my life dedicated to wandering the country before I could begin to feel content with the thoroughness of my travels. Add to this the fact that I am determined to explore the remainder of the UK as well as continental Europe, and I might as well drop out of my courses and simply spend my time as a vagrant (sans the begging part).

My flight leaves from Logan Airport tomorrow night at 7:10 p.m., and by this time on Saturday, I'll (hopefully) be settling into my new home in Edinburgh. It hasn't hit me yet, but I'm so excited for the moment that it does finally kick in. 

I am your most precious natural resource.

I am your most precious natural resource.

Were your hands
those of a topographer's,
you would not hesitate
to map every inch
of this landscape -
pools of green iris
sheltered
by ambered strands and
pockets of speckled ground,
dual sloped mountains with gentle blush peaks,
flat plains that give way to
flesh alabaster valleys,
a fault line
sinfully
divided.

Rest yourself
and instead explore
this expanse.

Do not be afraid to take from me -
you've memorized my body
and I've plenty to give.
I pulse through your veins.

Cartography,
after all,
is in your blood.

C.S.P.

Last night I answered an e-mail that has sat intentionally unopened and unanswered in my inbox for almost two years. I cannot say what brought me to finally open the message and read its contents; perhaps I was tired of letting it occupy space in the back of my mind. In some ways, I think, it held an infinitesimally small power over me in that I was still holding onto it. The message was from a friend -  more so a friend from the past, though I hate to use the term "ex-friend" - who, after roughly eighteen months of mutual silence, broke it. I avoided opening this e-mail because this friend (my best friend for six years, including some of the most important years of my life) hurt me very, very deeply after I moved away from the town where I spent the majority of my pre-teens and teenage years. She said some exceedingly mean things about me, the bases of which were completely unfounded. Her words came out of nowhere, and in my absence, they still pricked my skin with their malicious undertones. Obviously, then, my hesitance to read her two-year-old e-mail has been understandable, albeit perhaps a little silly.

Last night I read her words, let them sink over me, soaked them up, chewed on them, and spat them back out into some makeshift version of coherency and response. She noted the way in which we lost touch; she claimed she knew not why our relationship dissipated. She did not say she missed me but she did update me about her life. It was a strange conglomeration of thoughts- in so many ways incomplete, lacking the emotion I expected to be present, and in other ways exactly what such an attempt at reconnection can aspire to be.

I responded with an affirmation of the greatness that our former friendship possessed, but with a stern acknowledgment, too, of just how acutely her spirited, baseless words had burrowed under my skin. I followed this with my own declaration of the "state of things" - everything I said was true, and all of it was relevant, but it somehow felt contrived, unimportant, and, perhaps worst of all, disingenuous. So, too, did her subsequent response; so, too, did my reply. Why?

There is great vicissitude in most friendships. Regardless of the bonds that two individuals share, a relationship subjects itself to an immense potential for change. Often, these moments bring clarity, renew strength, reinvigorate the communal life forged between two persons. But my relationship with this particular friend has experienced an entirely different sort of change. Distance, I think, is more than anything else to blame, and this, I know, is not her fault. Nor is it mine. Yet our relationship has seen such enormous vacillations that it seems entirely too tired to even begin moving towards recovery.

What, then, are we attempting to do with our most recent exchange? The pleasantries are starting to flow, the jokes are slowly working themselves back in, and we have begun to wean off - or, to be more truthful, forcibly remove - the weirdness between us. I cannot help but feel, however, that everything between us is still somehow nothing more than a beautiful fabrication.

How can you rebuild something when you have misplaced its pieces? 

I am not sure finding ours once more would be worth it.

Last night was the open dress rehearsal for "Uncommon Women and Others."

I nailed it.

=)

Better.

Not perfect, but better nonetheless.

narrative internal

I am tired and exhausted and the two are synonyms, I know, but I am nevertheless both with distinction. Rehearsals for "Uncommon Women and Others," by Wendy Wasserstein '71, have drained me physically and emotionally. I have never been pushed so hard, and I am honestly grateful to finally have a director that is kicking my ass. I need this kind of challenge.

Yet when does a challenge become a trial? I feel like what started out as constructive criticism has become a one-way channel of biting remarks. Perhaps these comments are subconsciously harsh. Yet I cannot help but notice that only I am spoken to in this way. Perhaps it is still subconscious. I have no right to assume things.

Why, then, do I feel that my director assumes things of me - specifically, why do I feel that my director assumes that I have all of these shortcomings as an actor? Why hasn't my director taken the time to get to know me not only as an actor, but also as a person?

Why am I the only member of the cast for whom this is true?

I spoke with my director about this last week. Afterward, I thought we had reached a point of understanding - certainly not on a personal level (I do not think she has any interest in establishing any kind of relationship, which both upsets me and, at this point, does not surprise me at all), but at the very least on the level of director and actor. Yet here I am, a week later, and after seven rehearsals that were totally different, and much, much better than anything preceding them, tonight was a near-perfect mirror image of weeks' past.

I do not know what else I can do at this point. I have extended my arms, reached out as a willing student ready to do everything I can to give her what she wants on stage. The ball is now in my director's court. It has sat there ever since our talk, and at this point, I think it is gathering dust.

Composition

"Sometimes you meet someone who you know right away is made up of trillions of different cells, and she was one of these."

-Thom Pain
Will Eno

Lezzgo, homework.

Lezzgo.

I'm studying for a huge midterm exam tomorrow

and all I want to do is sleep.
Why can't our days be filled with more than twenty-four hours?
They never seem to be enough.

I just searched for "relaxing music" on Spotify

and I am now listening to a song with some sort of wooden flute and rain and distant thunder in the background. It is so incredibly calming and I just want to fall asleep. I currently am working on an astronomy problem set, but I still have to read my astronomy textbook, as well as the entirety of Twelfth Night for my Shakespeare class tomorrow.

This weekend I attended a three-day workshop offered through the theatre department, taught by Quinn Bauriedel, a man who studied with Jaques Le Coq and co-founded the Pig Iron Theatre Company in Philadelphia. On Friday and Saturday, we worked on nothing but intense, focused physical movement and acting for 8 hours. It was absolutely amazing! I feel as if I have learned so, so much and that I have grown, in such a small time, such a large amount as an actor. (I should note that I didn't end up attending today's final session, because I am terrified of clowns and the workshop today was devoted exclusively to the study of clown movement. Needless to say, not my thing.)

Last night was Drag Ball at Mount Holyoke, and Leanne, Olivia, and I all dressed up like classy men! Paola let us borrow a ton of her clothes, and Leanne lent Paola a dress, tights, and heels so that she could dress as a classy lady. The dance itself was so much fun, without a doubt the most fun I have had at any social event since I came to college. I'll post some pictures as soon as I get around to having the time to actually upload pictures from my camera.

I also have an embarrassing amount of laundry to do. I'll do it eventually; right now I'm just determined not to fall behind on my course work.

Such is college life, no?

Happy Valentine's Day!

I promise to make more of an effort to actually write here more often.