The longer I run...

Guys, it's been quite a couple of months!

I don't even know where to begin, really. But let's try the beginning, and see how far we get, shall we?

Let's start with graduation. We had Greg's graduation, which was fantastic. The Latin, the head-bonk, the freezing outdoor reception at night, in Scotland, in November (whose idea was that?)... Plus he looked ever so handsome! How's about some photos of the occasion?

There he is! The graduand!

Then I wandered off to document his academic buildings...

And here he is, the graduATE! Excuse the blurriness...They were all in a tizzy because the band was playing the Indiana Jones theme as they recessed. (Yes. I am for real. They followed it with Spaceballs.)

Aaaaand us, at the reception. Note the excellent surroundings. Just be glad you can't feel the cold like we were.

It was great. We went out for tapas in the West End, had some drinks with his coursemates to celebrate. All wonderful!

Then it was my graduation up next! I don't have my own photos (Greg has them, and he's a notorious delinquent for keeping them on his camera...) I'll snag some from Facebook to give you the gist of it...

Here we are as graduands....

And here's the whole gang after the ordeal! (Well, minus one who was in the wrong country and another who was about 5 hours too far south)

And here's me with my old flatmate from our St Andrews days :)

 There's been a lot of tumult in the meantime, as well. Greg and I stayed in Glasgow for Christmas, which was lovely (if a little bit quiet). We missed our families, but we spent lots of time on skype trying to make up for it, and I even got a little Christmas shrubbery (it's not really a tree...), which we named Albert (Albert Pine. Also goes by Al Pine. Get it? GET IT?) I made a lot of food, including but not limited to a kicka** French onion soup which Greg has decided he would like to eat every day for the rest of his life. All I can say is goodness we're getting married, because it's about the only (gourmet) thing I know how to cook...

New Year's (or Hogmonay, as they call it here :)) was great fun, as Julia and Tamara (pictured in the first in my graduation series up there) came down to Glasgow to partaaay with us. Which mostly consisted of having some beers at Brewdog. But hey, it's where all Greg's & my friends were, so it was very merry indeed! We were there "for the bells" (As there's no enormous sparkling ball in any city nearby, it just sounds a little vulgar to say "when the ball drops" over here), and we even swigged a little champagne with Greg's Icelandic friend, Bobo (A detail that I include mainly because I can and it's awesome).

But after all the hubbub of the holidays had died down, we finally came to terms with the fact that Greg's visa is going to expire at the end of this week, and that we probably have to figure something out. We then spent the week after New Year's in a bit of panic trying to figure out what to do, before deciding that he'll go on a "federally mandated holiday" to the continent then come back for a couple weeks to pack his stuff. Meanwhile, I'll stay here, working at my part-time cocktail bar job and pack my stuff up. And we'll both leave together on January 29! WOW.

I'm excited to go back, though. It's hard to leave a place that I've lived in for almost year and a half. (two years in total!) But I'm not gonna lie- I've missed my family, and I've missed my friends. I've had a fun time here in Glasgow, but it's also been one of the most challenging places. To mark the occasion, I'm going to make you listen to one of my all-time absolute favorite songs of my life. Ironically, it became my "theme song" of the moment the first time I came over to Scotland...But now, almost exactly four years later, it rings pretty true as well. Wandering just feels like a theme for me right now, I suppose. Give it a listen (and tell me if you don't totally adore it):

The Longer I Run (Peter Bradley Adams)

It's taken a lot to reach this decision to leave at this point (rather than fight the border agency on the matter of Greg's visa, or ride out my own visa until March). It's been hard for both of us, and I think we both feel like we're giving up something, whether that's a life we've worked hard for or a career that we're putting on hold. And I think the uncertainty has pretty tough, too. But the longer I try to hang on to living out here, the more I just want to go home. Of course, it's also been an adventure to decide what we're going to do when we get back. And it's so exciting to figure it out together!

And, right now, it's looking like our 20-something syndrome will finally hit when we do land on US turf for good, since we'll be living with our parents till our job situations shake out....

But the good news is that they might just shake out soon! I won't say anything too specific, but Greg's got his hands in a lot of pies, so to speak. There are a few options for him career-wise, and those options are really very exciting! So exciting, in fact, that I've decided to put my PhD plans on hold for the next year. It's a long story, and I'm happy to tell it. But just know that we're very at peace about the decision to pursue Greg's career in the first year of our marriage!

Speaking of which, that's happening. In fact, it'll be happening FIVE MONTHS from today! Woah. Let's take it in for a minute. 5 months from today, I'll be a wife. And since that's such an overwhelmingly awesome thought I think I'll leave you with that.

More to come as I finish up my last few weeks in the country....And start scheming my return as soon as possible :)

Latin phrases, silly outfits and a ceremonial head-bonk

Sorry for dropping off the face of the planet there! It was a busy three weeks at home (hurrah!) and then back for a whirlwind of graduations--first Greg's on Tuesday, then mine on Friday!

I'm not going to bore you with the details of the trip, or the graduation just now, but in the video below, you can see the footage (provided by my excellent ex-flatmate Heather's dad via facebook)  of my "exact moment of graduation," which happens when the Chancellor says the Latin words, and I'm hooded, then bonked on the head with a 16th century velvet cap. (I'm not sure I understand the last bit, but I presume it has something to do with the fact that this is St Andrews, and this is how we've always done it?)

Happy watching, and I promise I'll provide a full, detailed and delightfully witty account of my last month once I recover from the week of celebrations :)

Scotland, this is why nobody likes you.

7.5 hours before departure, and I am standing in my room, wearing a damp wool sweater, trying to use my body heat and a hair dryer to expedite the drying process. Because I don't have a dryer, and the flat is so damp that nothing dries in under 2 days lately. And because living in this country has taught me NEVR to go on a trip  in the winter without at least one wooly jumper.

Scotland!! (shakes fist)

At least I'll be on a plane in a few hours....damp jumpers and all.

And so it begins. Again.

LAST SHIFT! LAST SHIFT! LAST SHIFT!

That's what they'll say to me, say to me,  say to me, this one's a fighter.

Cheesy? Yes. The only thing blaring in my headphones to and from work the last week? Oh yes.

Of course, in the wake of the others who've left (I'm one of a fair few in the last couple weeks...apparently I'm not the only one having the issues I've been having!), I've also been bumped up floor service (aka, real person work), which has been much better than 30+ hours of being yelled at by chefs. So, surprisingly, I've actually enjoyed work since I gave my notice. That's always the way of it, isn't it? At least it is for me-- the second I find a escape route, things become more tolerable. (But I think it's mostly the fact that I don't need care about doing well at my job anymore, so when I'm shouted at, I'm just like- Well. I'll be sure to pass on that memo to my replacement right over there...)

So come tomorrow morning at 1 am, I'll be DONE with this job forever (and ever) and off on yet another whirlwind adventure. Because, as much as I like to think that someday I'll do things differently, with like, a normal schedule and more than a minute to breathe...I'm not really sure I know how anymore. Whirlwind-ing is my specialty. I might as well embrace it, right? At least I don't have to get all the way across the country this time....Juuuust up and down the eastern seaboard. Whatever.

This season's Traveling Whirlwind Extravaganza includes swooping into NYC on Monday, seeing my mom, meeting my new baby cousin, hugging her older siblings & parents, swinging down to DC to see Greg's parents, continuing down to Williamsburg, being in my best friend's wedding (!!), planning our own wedding (venues, caterers, bakers, and dresses, oh my!), seeing my dad, maybe seeing my sister, (wishing I could celebrate my brother's big 2-1, but knowing a trip to CA would probably be too much :)), heading back up to NYC to finish The Planning and then back to good ol' Glesga (better known Glasgow for those unfamiliar with the regional dialect) in time for Greg's graduation, and over to St Andrews for my own graduation two days later. Oh, and Thanskgiving in there somewhere. (Location: TBA. Either NYC or St Andrews. As you do.) Phew.

GAME ON.

wise words from my favorite lady

Right, so, first things first.

NEW TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUM. So sue me. I love her. We bonded on one marathon drive up to NYC on Thanksgiving weekend, wherein "Speak Now" was the only CD in the car, other than 2 (beautiful but) depressing Broadway musicals. After that, there was no going back.

I feel like it should be a guilty pleasure, but if I don't actually feel guilty, then I guess it's just a pleasure, right? 

T-Swift's songs have seen me through many trials (hah. but really. sometimes you just need to hear a whiny voice that's not your own, ya know?) but this week has been driven by one song in particular. It's a long, long story. But the bottom line is that some select people higher up on the food chain (ha!) at work than I am are really, really mean. We're talking, so unnecessarily rude, belittling and downright unprofessional that I've come home from work in tears on many occasions. (Ok, y'all know I'm a weeper, but even this is too much!).And on Sunday morning, after a particularly terrible Saturday night at work, I was down to my last coping mechanism. This was it:

But you know, dancing around my room singing to nobody about how mean they are? Highly cathartic. I didn't even feel the urge to walk out of work that day. Heck, I even enjoyed myself at times.

However, I did some thinking, and some praying, and a lot of talking (can I get an "amen" from my fellow verbal processors?). And I realized that not even the excellent reputation of the restaurant or the fact that I actually enjoy waiting tables or the few people whose company I enjoyed or the great pay that I receive could make up for the huge amount of anxiety I experience every time I walk in to work, or the fear that I feel when I have to work with those particularly unpleasant personalities. So despite the fact that I hate giving up, especially when I feel like I haven't spent a lot of time in a job (I've only been in this one for 2 months)--'cause what if it gets better??--I decided to give my 2 week's notice.

Instantly, I felt lighter.

Guys, this job has been weighing on me. Transitions are hard, and moving to a new city and starting a new job is never easy, but I think most of the problem was feeling so demoralized every time I came home from my job--where, as a full-time employee, I spend most of my time. Now, I'm not so spoiled that I have to love what I do every second that I'm doing it. But I do need to not feel verbally abused when I show up for work.

And today, my first day of semi-freedom (you know, the type that comes when you can see a light at the end of the tunnel), I snagged T-Swift's new album. And although, of course, I love every last one of the songs, this one seems particularly apt for my day.

Dear Soul-Killing Waitress Job:

We are never, ever, ever getting back together.

Like, ever.

new theme song.

Guys, sometimes living in a city is rough. Living in a city where the sun doesn't shine, and where we don't really have internet...or friends...or job satisfaction (waiting tables 30+ hours a week: fine. polishing cutlery 30+ hours a week: not so fine)... It's particularly rough.

So today, we had hot chocolate and put this song on.

Go on. Click it. Tell me it doesn't bring at least a bit of a smile to your face.

Personally, I'm calling it my new theme song. 'Cause if I'm gonna throw a pity party, I definitely want it put to a jaunty tune.

Making Friends 101 (a crash course)

In undergrad, you could make friends a couple ways. You could join some clubs. You could rush a sorority or fraternity. You could hang with your hallmates. For a few weeks there at the beginning, it was even acceptable to say "Are you a freshman?" in the hopes that they'd catch the subtext "Are you as lost and confused and friendless as I am?"

Grad school, at least for me, ended up being pretty easy. Picked a pretty tiny field at a university where somehow everybody knows everybody else, combined that with the fluke of 8 personalities that mostly all got along great, not to mention had similar interests, plus we kind of had ban together against the outside world that says we were all off our rockers for our career choice. So, basically, I got a built-in posse.

Real life is not so easy.

Where do you go to make friends, if not class, or extracurriculars? Where do you find them? Are they hiding somewhere secret? Obviously grown ups make friends, too, but there's kind of an aura of mystery surrounding the actual friend-making process. Or, alternatively, I'm just socially awkward and maladjusted. (Knowing my undergrad uni, this possibility is not entirely out of the question...). Why don't they just offer a class in these things? Then a perpetual student like myself might have a fighting chance... you know. Making Friends 101. That sort of thing. I'm sure it'd fill up before you could say "Damn you, Banner!" (Shout out to my not-so-beloved undergrad course scheduling system, which somehow always messes your life up a little.)

Nevertheless, I've set out to make a life for myself here in Glasgow. It's tough when I'm working full time. I'm getting to know the great people I work with...but they're work friends, so the rota really determines our  "hang out" time.

Since that's not turning out to be quite enough, I took decided to check out a life drawing class in a coffee shop near my neighborhood. ("When in doubt, go to class" is apparently my motto.) This is a better idea than making work friends, I think, because I tend to be about 10x calmer with charcoal in my hand. Plus, it does not require me to do much talking, except a little quiet chatter in the breaks-- never a bad thing.

Things I did not intend to do: make friends with the model. Some people like to chat with the model when they're on a break, but I don't really like to establish any personal ties with the person whose naked body I've just been measuring and replicating on the page. This presented problems in undergrad, where I often knew the model personally, but I figured that was a non-issue in such a vast, new city. But halfway through my attempt to join in the chatter of my classmates, the model looks at me and says "You've got charcoal all over your face."

Well, you're not wearing any clothes, but I'm not callin' you out, lady....

Okay, I didn't actually say that. I did the normal person thing and thanked her. I then spent the remainder of the break trying to scrub the charcoal from my face with my sleeve instead of trying to make friends. She stayed naked, though, so I think maybe she'd have benefited from my observations ;)

So, Attempt 1 didn't go quite the way I'd envisioned it.

Attempt 2 was better, but only slightly. Greg and I have been on a quest to find this church we'd heard about. But for the last 6 months, getting there has been a bit like trying to get to Narnia without the wardrobe. Aka, impossible. We just got lost every time. But this Sunday, we finally made it! It was fabulous. We then decided to be grown ups (sensing a theme?), stick around for coffee, and try to meet some people. But people seemed mostly interested in chatting with each other, or leaving. And there was also no coffee. So we nibbled on a jelly doughnut, and peaced out. Guess we're baby-stepping: we found the place. Makin' friends is a thing for later, I think :)

For now, I'm just going to slink back to my comfort-zone on my day off today by scheming my return to grad school and celebrating Aya's & my distinction-level dissertation marks. Not to worry, I'll be back to keep you posted about how I'm navigating the complex playground of adult relationships some other day!