05. like a blister in the sun

Original title: why does it always rain on me?

That song was playing in a consignment shop I visited the other day looking for cheap boots (elusive creatures in a European tourist town) and it seemed to fit because, yes, Scotland WHY DOES IT ALWAYS RAIN ON ME? Scotland, you see, is tricky. I got here and it was sort of cold and cloudy and misty in the mornings but that was pretty, all dewy and fresh. I am totally on board with this Scottish weather! I thought. I am a natural at this cold and rainy stuff and laugh at lesser whiners! Then around Thursday the rain started in earnest as my friends and I walked back from a flat on the other side of town about twenty minutes from our dorm at 2am (hi parents and grandma, we were totally drinking water and discussing literature!). Over the next five or so days it did not relent...nor did it pour. It was just a steady light rain and freezing cold, beating you down until you felt like you were undergoing Chinese water torture and the next drop would send you flying straight out of your skin which would lay for all time in a soggy puddle on market street.

This was made worse by the fact that my Scottish adventures lately have been entitled Banks Hate Me. When I went to the local bank to open an account they first refused to open one because I had a letter from the university with the information they needed but it wasn't the letter the usually got. So basically they said “We could use this but we hate you.” Well, fine then, I thought, I'll just cash a traveler's check so I can buy my damn umbrella (yes, I did forget to bring an umbrella to Scotland, stop laughing). But OH NO we can't have money changing hands in a BANK and the freakin' genius teller decided to accuse me of having different signatures on each check, as in some of them were forged. So, basically, she accused me of forging my own signature. We had a little standoff (ways to make me assertive: dump rain on me for four days then deny me access to funds to buy an umbrella...and okay by assertive I mean “I cried”) and she eventually admitted she was mistaken. I very graciously did not respond “You bet your obvious gray roots you were mistaken, whore.”

But I got my money, procured an umbrella...and then the sun came out. Hooray! I decided to celebrate by hiking part of the Fife Coastal Path in...long jeans and converse sneakers? Oops. I fell in the mud and pushed a stupid button on my camera and wiped all my pictures. But it was so pretty it was quite worth it and words cannot describe it. I will take more pictures as soon as I can go out again because, I regret to say, I am currently sitting inside on a sunny day because I have developed a hideously painful blister on my left heel and if so much as a ballet flat touches it, it does the silent blister-y equivalent of wailing “AHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH THE AGONY!” This may be positive though as it gives me incentive to do things like register my phone and clean my room (even though the cleaning service comes three times a week and does my laundry. I know! Scotland is so magical it even has house elves! Though they are actually very nice ladies who probably would not appreciate me equating them with fictional characters who look like this) and, oh you know, do some of that homework stuff I hear universities like to give out.

What? You didn't know I was actually taking classes? Honestly they fooled me too with all this free haggis and dancing and nice British students inviting us over to watch mock news shows. It was quite a shock to wake up at 8am after getting in at 4am (long night of water drinking and retirement planning! Hi mom!) and trudge off to lectures about Scottish fiction. I like the class, though it's mostly Americans, and we're reading Waverly by Sir Walter Scott for it which I like well enough eleven pages in. My other class, British Popular Culture from WWI-1960 meets Thursday in a building I still can't find. Uh. I'll let you know how that goes. Also, yes, I do only have two classes, its how they roll here. I also only have lecture/tutorials for four hours a week. This is good as it leaves time for traveling. This is bad as it seems to rely on me to keep up with the reading and plan responsibly. Here is a story about me and planning responsibly: I once passed out because I forgot to eat. And by once I actually mean “on multiple occasions”

Don't be fooled, I like to describe my misadventures because it's funny but I am having an amazing time here and meeting great people and reading and writing and generally being incredibly happy. The alcoholic cider helps with the happiness a lot. Seriously. I will bring some back and you'll see. This place is really starting to feel like home now, I have my favorite coffee shop (it's run by volunteer church ladies and no one is ever there and they actually make good American coffee) and my shortcuts and routines. This clearly means I will have to start traveling soon, yes? For now, however, I will only be dragging my blistery self to an upstairs kitchen for tea with friends.

Things to come: pictures

Days in a country with socialized health care in which I contrarily do not get sick: 8

Verdict on haggis: tasty

Bank account: opened, bitches!

Thing I am most excited for: Club fair on Saturday at which I may sign up for MOUNTAINEERING club. Or maybe even Clay Pigeon Shooting Club. They totally have one. Tell your dad I may be one of the only people in the UK with a gun soon Kat.

Things they have here they should start having in America: Afternoon tea, alcoholic cider, ruins of castles and dramatic beaches right across from my classroom, a bar in the student union, accents