no, I still haven't finished those essays.

...But in honor of my last few days in Scotland for the next month or so, here's this thing I wrote on an early-morning bus to Glasgow a few weeks ago (which I found in my notebook and am now typing up instead of doing my essays. Good work!)

Things I adore about living in Scotland (2.0)
-The sound of seagulls
-mist--especially when it's pink because the sun's rising (or trying to).
-the x24 bus to Glasgow--and the fact that I can put myself on a bus to anywhere without going broke.
-the stark, vast landscape
-the smell of the ocean
-the minimal daylight that's awakened a renewed sense of CARPE DIEM, the likes of which my high school self would be proud.
-good ale
-red leaves, wet cobblestones
-again with the sunrise--but seriously, wow. the glowing red sky above the blank hills and a line of trees.
-hearing church bells on the hour
-wind. But I figure liking it is more of a survival technique.
-electrical sockets that switch off. Genius. Why hasn't America done this yet?
-the ever-so-sensible metric system.
-tea and biscuits
-LIVING SPACE! APPLIANCES THAT WORK! MY OWN CLOSET!
-Sheep :)
-finally adjusting to the climate

At this point, I believe I started to get a little carsick, so I stopped listing. But I'll continue briefly just now.

-"mingin"- my flatmate says it all the time, and I love it. It means something akin to gross, nasty, weird, old, dirty...all those things. It's possibly the greatest word I've ever heard.
-also "yous" in the Scottish accent. It's refreshing, and novel, and so much more pleasant than the New York variety.
-the fact that saying "what up?" (in my very American accent) gets more of a laugh than any joke I could make.
-being able to pay in exact change. always.
-chocolate. It's just better here.
-narrow roads lined with little houses with little doors and windows.

Yup. I'm thankful to be here. And also thankful to be coming home for Christmas :)

With that, I'm gonna get back to the grindstone...
But I'll leave you with this video. Because it's awesome, and cheesy, and everything I love.

Catch yous later!

planes, trains and automobiles: the prologue

Today, the cold I've been avoiding so desperately finally caught up with me. Ugh. I'm achy and sniffly and sore-throaty and yuck. And as always, the only week I need desperately not to get sick is this one. Immune systems can be vindictive little buggers, can't they?

So I'm bundled up under my down comforter, contemplating whether I need to go get my hat to insulate myself, and waiting for my Lemsip to kick in (Lemsip is amazing, by the way. It's like TheraFlu, but it actually works). And I'm totally unable to believe that (despite my current despair at my essay's current state of affairs) come this time next week, my assignments will be done--okay, or nearly done-- my classes will be over, and I'll be packing up for a whirlwind vacation.

And I really do mean "whirlwind." Next Tuesday, I'll hop on a bus to Edinburgh, where I'll meet up with Greg. From there, we'll catch the train to London. Then, we've got 2 glorious days of sightseeing...and I hear there's an excellent Christmas market on at Hyde Park for which I'm totally stoked. (Hear that family? I'm stoked for the Christmas market. The Christmas cheer I'm exuding this year is almost unbearable).

Then it's a (mercifully direct) flight from London to DC, and a day with his family before my own mom swoops down from NYC to pick me up! At this point, my incredibly jet-lagged self will hop in her car, drive down to Williamsburg, see some friends, yah de yah (SO PUMPED :))---

At which point we will collect my sister (who's driving up from South Carolina) and my brother (if he's not just staying in LA) and commence an epic cross-country road trip!

Yep. Cross-country road trip.

It's a long story, but to sum up, we didn't really have a place for our family to be at Christmas, so we opted for Tahoe. Because when in doubt, go to your happy place, right? And Tahoe most certainly is our happy place.

I'm going to cease the litany of transportation to note just how THRILLED I am to be spending Christmas in Tahoe: snow on the pine trees (well, maybe), a warm fire, and people I love sitting on the couch beside me?! What could be better?

So, even while my brain is fried and my immune system is sputtering out and it's mostly dark all the time, there's definitely a light at the end of the tunnel....Although in this analogy, I'd say its more of a crazy, multi-colored strobe light that might cause some kind of a stroke....But hey. Seems like the makings of a party to me :)

i throw my hands up in the air sometimes

--singin eyyyy-ohhh gotta let go.

St. Andrews Day Ball yesterday! It was fabulous. I made a glorious return to the world of ceildh (and brought my friend Tamara along with me! She's now officially as obsessed as I am. Victory), and requested Soulja Boy so that my friend Liz and I could show off the sweet the dance skills we'd learned so diligently in our freshman year of undergrad. Apparently it inspired one particular kilt-wearing Scotsman, because he started doing the dance, too. For the record, there are very few things more absurd than watching a kilted man gettin' down with his bad self to some American rap.

I went to bed last night with bruised toes (thanks, to a crowded ceildh and an indiscriminate stiletto-wearer) and an exhausted body, but MAN OH MAN, was a night of dancing precisely what I wanted! (despite the fact that I had to get up for lectures this morning- yuck).

Must remember to do more of this-- nothing makes my heart happier than actin' like a spaz on the dance floor.

November, what happened? (a giant update with many musings)

So, apparently December was rapidly approaching all month long while I was busy reading obscure things. WHO KNEW?

I gotta be honest, this last month's been a little tough for me- which is probably why you haven't heard from me very much. I flattered myself that I would NOT fall prey to the really vicious slump that hits when it's dark upon waking, cloudy all through the afternoon, and dark again before class ends. But of course I did. That's not to say there weren't a lot of happy times (among them, celebrating 1 year with my favorite person a couple weeks ago!)...but there was a lot of dark and lonely, too. So I did my coursework, and I tried to talk to my family & friends when I could, and I prayed, and I watched a lot of TV, and I hung out with my ever-so-fabulous coursemates, and I saw Greg as much as we could manage, and I muddled through.

But suddenly and inexplicably, this week's been better! Maybe it's because St. Andrews lit all the trees on my street with sparkly lights just in time for Christmas (I'm notoriously grinch-y when it comes to commercialized Christmas things, so the fact that I'm finding Christmas lights so delightful is actually a big deal). Or maybe it's that, on a particularly rough Saturday morning this weekend, I emailed Greg that I was feelin' down, and he whisked me away to Glasgow. All we really did was play Settlers of Catan and eat Thanksgiving leftovers and drink coffee, but it was just the pick-me-up I needed to sail through these last 3 weeks before I fly home for break.

Fly home for break. What? I can't even believe how quickly the time has gone. Last time, a semester seemed like a thrilling eternity, in which I packed as much experience and travel and general shenanigans as I possibly could manage without going insane. This time around--my gosh, I got down to the nitty-gritty coursework after about the 3rd week, and I've hardly had time to look up and realize time was passing! I guess that's what a Master's is all about though, isn't it?

It's funny how much more settled into my life I feel than last time. I have a sense of "things to come" rather than a sense of "things about to close."

For example, I hosted a Thanksgiving dinner at my house last Thursday for all the girls in my course (+ my wonderful flatmate, of course). We made some incredible food (and an enormous mess), talked about all things girly and nerdy and silly, laughed till we nearly cried....and as cheesy as it was, I looked around at these people I met just a couple months ago and thought, MAN, am I thankful-- for these incredible friends, for this gorgeous flat where we can all hang out, and for the fact that I get one more semester (and a summer!) of all of it. (Oh, and my courses, but you've heard me talk about that bit more than enough).

Could I ask for more? No. No, I couldn't.

Tonight, I'm re-reading Troilus and Criseyde, and tomorrow, we're getting dolled up to go to the St. Andrews Day Ball (what up, grad student perks?). I'm going to spend the next 2.5 weeks working my BUTT off to get meet coursework deadlines, and then it's home I go!

And by home, I mean NYC. Did I mention that? Probably not. VA, I love ya, but I'm thrilled beyond thrilled for another fun adventure awaiting me on the other side (get ready for epic travel stories). And my family. OH I cannot wait to see my family.

And lastly, I leave you with several amusing moments from my life:

1. Dr. PMS. I know you've missed him. I've missed him too (mostly because I've been sleeping through my alarm recently. Oops?) But you'll be glad to know that I took note of one particularly great moment in which he discussed translating Latin into English: "There is a great deal of innate stupidity to it, but that's what English does." What a legend.

2. The Old English module is a source of constant entertainment. Most recently, it has included theatrical Anglo-Saxon voices, and a brief discussion of "the meaning of wang"--For the record, it means field. Kindly retrieve your mind from the gutter. (teehee!)

3. Last week's guest lecturer looked like he stepped straight out of an early 20th century classroom, complete with round gold-rimmed glasses and ascot-looking tie. I made the mistake of running 1 minute late to his lecture, however, and was ever so confused find my fellow classmates not sitting in our usual circle with the professor looking as much like a student as anyone else. Instead, they were in 2 neat rows, while this character sat behind a table, gesticulating gracefully as he began to read from Old English texts. (Which incidentally, was beautiful). Also, I could see the castle out of the window.....An excellent dose of ancient-university-vibe.

And, there it is, ladies and gentlemen, the end of my seemingly-endless update. You made it! Go congratulate yourself. I promise, I'll try not to leave all the updating for one massive post next time. Meanwhile, you can picture me snugglin' my radiator and reading :)

"homebird, you've been a flier too long"

Thanksgiving is absolutely my favorite, most sentimental holiday. I love the togetherness, I love my mom's cinnamon rolls, I love talking about everything we're thankful for over the past year, I love looking around the room while everyone's in a food coma and thinking-- I am so blessed to know these people.

I've often said I like Thanksgiving more than Christmas because (apart from stupid Black Friday--ew) nobody's trying to use Thanksgiving for a 3 month advertising blitz about how everyone you know will be so much happier if you just buy them X. Of all the holidays, it feels most like what it ought to be-- a celebration of the things that really matter. At least, that's what it's always been for me.

And maybe it's that my family's going through a lot of upheaval--what with selling our house, some pretty major out-of-state moves, 2 kids at universities on separate coasts (and of course me on a separate continent)-- but I feel so disconnected. I find everything out through the grapevine. And I've even lost track of who I should ask what, because no one seems to be able to track each other down anymore. I know I'm a busy person, and I have trouble keeping in touch...but I've also spent a lot of hours waiting for skype dates that never happen, and sent a lot of messages that don't get replies. It's fine, usually. I get the busy schedule, and I know the 5 hour time difference isn't easy to negotiate all the time.

But then tack on missing my favorite holiday with my favorite people, and the fact that it got dark before 4 pm today-- and tonight, I am just sunk.

At least I'll be home on December 15th. Or, at least, I'll be in the States, and able to commence an epic journey to wherever my family/home happens to be.

Let the countdown begin.

procrastination is a vital study tactic

A stupid thing I almost made my status, but decided it was too long and too nerdy:

Typical (Medieval Lit) Post-Grad Evening:
hour 1- 10/2,000 words of an introduction, and a growing hatred for palaeography.

hour 2- giving up, surfing Facebook for too long, and eating a baked potato with gusto.

hour 3- renewed vigor! searching library catalogs, WorldCat and JSTOR in a fit of rage.

hour 4- registering for a free 30-day trial subscription to the chicago manual of style. poring over footnotes/bibliography rules.

hour 5- 100/2,000 words, and increasing interest in medieval Scottish court proceedings.

hour 5.5- JSTOR VICTORY IS SWEETER THAN LIFE ITSELF, and a "huh, this is fascinating."

Seriously, I knew there had to be a reason I was in academia.

pseudo-sunshine (things that made me happy today)

1. enjoying coffee on a bench in a square before class (while the church bells rang above my head).

2. this song.

3. Grocery Day. aka, doing my weekly shopping. hey kids, it's the little things.

4. Literary Research Methods: a useful class for the first time ever!

5. talking about all the (kinda mean) things to do if our (hypothetical) students show up late to our (hypothetical) classes / don't do their reading / are generally annoying.

6. remembering that Reading Week is next week.

7. chocolate. chocolate chocolate chocolate.

8. "If I rise on wings of the dawn
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast."

9. a chit-chat with my broha :)

10. Made in Chelsea (like Jersey Shore meets Gossip Girls meets....London. but awesome) tonight!

halloween: a living literature exam

It's 4:30 pm, and the sun is giving up.

Crank your radiators and fire up those lamps, ladies and gentlemen. Scottish winter (or, as I'm calling it, the Descent into Darkness) has officially begun.

BUT on a brighter note (hah hah!) the impending winter did nothing to deter our really fabulous Halloween celebrations last night!

I, for one, had been at a loss for what to be for Halloween. I'd finally retired my tried-and-true Tinkerbelle costume, which I'd been revamping and reworking for the last 4 Halloweens running. I even left the costume at home so that laziness couldn't get the best of me. So, when the girls in my programme suggested we all dress up together, I was ALL about it. Naturally we decided on "everyone go as your medieval literature area of expertise!"- aka, the nerdiest Halloween theme EVER.

So by the time we were done, we ended up with a Criseyde (for Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde), a Wife of Bath (for, of course, The Canterbury Tales) a Guinevere (for the various King Arthur tales), a Morgan le Fay (also for the tales of King Arthur- they were "at each other's throats" all night, of course), a court fool (for comedy in Middle English), a Valkyrie (for Old Norse legend), a Grendel's mother (for Beowulf), and a Pictish warrior (for Old Scots lit).

We decided that if anyone asked us what we were dressed as, we'd refuse to offer further explanation of our characters....kind of like an impromptu test: do people actually know their literature?We knew they wouldn't, but it was a little fun to frustrate unsuspecting "cats," "fairies" and "pop stars." ;)

So, last night, we all got together at my flat about 3 hours prior to the party at the St. Andrews Aquarium, and basically turned my living room into a costume workshop (I still have shreds of dresses that we "distressed" all over my floor :P). We were a whirlwind of hem-sewing, makeup-doing, body-painting, hair-plaiting, toga-making, dress-pinning medievalists. It was a sight to behold.

Without further ado, some photos of our truly epic, delightfully geeky Halloween (also, for inquiring minds, this is my flat! finally some photos :))

Prom pose on the stairwell! From the bottom left, Liz as Guinevere, Julia as the Wife of Bath, Aya as a Valkyrie, me as a Pict, Tamara as Grendel's mother, Caitlin as a court fool, Charlotte as Morgan le Fay, and Amanda as Criseyde! :) What a good-lookin' / slightly terrifiying bunch!

Warrior buddies! (and a view of my living room!)


And finally, a group "personality" shot- LOVE this one. (and a view of the kitchen! haha)

So after all these shenanigans, we went on a "quest" to the Aquarium (we're. so. nerdy.) where we danced our faces off all night long!

Or rather, danced our faces off for a couple hours, and then pooped out around 1 am. What? We're grad students (read: old farts). We just can't party like we used to....

And with that, I gotta go translate some Latin and read the Romance of the Rose. Happy Halloween! :)

flash-forward and we're taking on the world together

So what if I'm unabashedly quoting a T-Swift song? Get at me.

I had the greatest weekend/ beginning of my week ever. I'm sorry, this blog is not usually for gushing, but it's also- ahem- my blog, and what I say goes. Right? Right.

Let's rate this weekend on a completely subjective scale: Christy's Personal Happiness Meter. Numbers have little to no value in my brain, so I'm gonna pick 'em as I see fit.

I peaced out for Glasgow on Thursday evening, shortly after some truly excellent classes. There, my even more excellent boyfriend picked me up at the bus station. And he already had plans for a great first evening out in Glasgow- dinner on Ashton Lane. Happiness Meter: 10,000,001. Elated. Nothing is better than a bus station reunion, and really cute date plans.

To my great delight, Glasgow is actually way more beautiful than anybody ever lets on (or they've just gotten really good at hiding all the scuzzy bits). From a pedestrian bridge over the Clyde (which flows over lots of woodsy, grassy land right though the city), we could see the gorgeous main building for University of Glasgow, all lit up in the dark. So. Freaking. Beautiful.

Another fun fact: I remembered on this walk that one of the Middle Scots poets whom I spent my LIFE studying last year, Robert Henryson, was educated at this fine university. This bodes well for my boyfriend the Creative Writing student, yeah? Ya never know. Maybe some poor undergraduate will spend THEIR lives poring over HIS work in a few hundred years. HM: 1,449. Nerdily pumped.

Anyhow, eventually we ended up at Ashton Lane- I almost died; it was so lovely. It's a tiny street with pretty little shop-fronts and cobblestones and twinkly lights. I ate the best burger of my life (but that might have had more to do with my hunger than than the actual quality of the food), and then we got drinks at a cool old cinema-turned-bar. HM: 5,000. Super-content. Good food. Good atmosphere. The best company.

The rest of the weekend was pretty much spent wandering parks, ducking in and out of art museums (Glasgow has a lot of art, apparently. Why did no one tell me how awesome this city is?!) and of course, trying not to get rained on :) This boy knows how to make my heart melt. HM: 6, 895, 723.8 Bouncy with Joy. Seriously, I think I ran into a few people.

AND THEN, when I though I might explode from happiness, he decided to spend the first couple days of his Reading Week with me back in St. Andrews. I had class at 9.30 on Monday morning, so we caught a bus back on Sunday night. Highlights included: a seaside walk when the sun came out, drinks with my coursemates, darts and dramatic readings of a really terrible short story with his buddies, getting to do schoolwork together (what up, undergrad memories!) and our nightly "floor picnics"- dinner, dessert & a movie....on the floor, because our couches are just absurdly small, and indoors because it's too cold and dark out. HM: 10,000,000,000. Boyfriend! And food! And the greatest, laziest week ever!

Alright. I'm done. If you read all that and didn't start to feel nauseated, you might be a saint. :)

Now I'm reluctantly diving back into "real life" for the rest of the week....but it's not so bad, as I've got some super-fun and super-nerdy Halloween plans with my coursemates. Get pumped for stories about how we've all picked costumes from our area of study. YEAH!

it's a day for the ducks

Really and truly, it is!

By far, this is the rainiest day I've had in Scotland. Yeah, I know. I'm lucky. Slash, I think maybe Fife has a bit of an identity complex, in that it likes to think it's warm and beachy despite its proximity to the North Sea.

But it doesn't stop me from being TOTALLY enamoured with all the Scottish-isms that come with dreary days like today. For one, the word "dreich" comes to mind. I'm sorry, it's just the best word for the weather--dark, drizzly, cold, windy...all of the above. And none of those quite capture it like dreich. (Stop me now, or I'll go on about how Scots is the best language ever.)

Anyway, today is a better day, despite the rain. Actually, the latter part of the week was better altogether. I held a 13th century manuscript on Thursday morning (almost peed myself) and had a girly outing to Dundee that afternoon. Then I went to my church small group, which fills my heart with joy EVERY time I show up. Those people are amazing. Saturday was uneventful, but fully of serendipity and social things in the evening - including stopping next door to have a better listen to the live band that was playing. The sun came out on Sunday, and a few girls from the programme went for a (9 mile!) walk along the coast, which I finished off with some tea and some quality skype-time with the fam.

It's easy to get overwhelmed with homesickness when I think about how far I am from (most of) the people I love. But all it's always the little things-- some friends, some prayer, some sunshine and the occasional rare book--that set me right.

my toes are also blue.

Things I wore to sleep last night:

-flannel pj's
-wool socks
-w&m hoodie (with the hood over my face)
-two duvets: one synthetic, one down.

... next to the radiator.

Conclusion: it's really cold here.

And I'm a little homesick.

medievalist: a nerd in excess

Today, I spent almost my entire day in Special Collections (which is actually just a set of portables out on the edge of town, but it sounds better to call it "Special Collections).

For the first 2 hours, we puzzled over things like this:



That, friends, is a copy of St. Gregory's Pastoral Care, dating around 890 AD. (Unfortunately, they didn't let us at the actual copy, as it's in Oxford.) But we all got our nerd on and had our first foray into deciphering hands (that is, handwriting). This one's in Anglo-Saxon, in case you were curious. Yeah, I know you weren't.

It was during this session that we were informed that our major assignment would be to transcribe a 15th century Scottish text. My whole class looked at me with disdain, because I was having trouble repressing my grin. (I'm the only one who's done any work on in Older Scots, which mystifies me, since we're at a Scottish university. To each their own, I guess ;))

And then we had a lovely break for lunch, which was needed for our tired brains and hungry stomachs. Of course that didn't stop us from discussing possible PhD proposals and how much we appreciate our boyfriends' well-organised bookshelves...

And then it was back to Special Collections, where we looked at a manuscript (which actually doesn't appear to exist on the internet, but you can just take my word for it-- it was REALLY cool in person). For the first time ever in my life, a professor literally plopped down ONE of NINE copies of a poem in the WHOLE FREAKING WORLD. Just sat it right in front of me, and left me and the two girls beside me to just do our transcribin' thing. I mean, I know that's kinda the point of getting this kind of education, but sometimes it just hits you, and then I think it's not out of place to be a little awed. Right? Right.

Anyhow, we were all leaving and remarking on how enjoyable our day of lectures had been, and how truly geeky we were for totally loving every second of puzzling over weird looking letters and being excited to go back and practise some more.

At which point one of us says, "Geek just doesn't quite cut it for us. I think we should come up with a word for how excessively nerdy we are."

And someone else chimes in, "I think the word's 'medievalist.'"

And all I can say is, too true.

my fingers are blue.

After about a week of gloriously sunny and honest-to-goodness warm weather, Scotland has suddenly decided become Scotland again (by which I mean cold, windy, and in a constant state of drizzle). And I'm so unprepared! Mentally, that is. I keep going out in little jackets and thinking I'll be fine...which is actually ridiculous, because even as I'm writing this, my fingertips are blue, and the wind is literally shaking my windows. Now that's the Scotland I know.

Anyway, a few things. Firstly, weekend: boyfriend's first visit! The best. Highlights include: walking along the Fife Coastal Trail (you know my affinity for it by now, I'm sure), eating a fried Mars Bar for the first time (heart attack?), introducing him to my coursemates and my buddies from study-abroad-time, meeting his buddies from when he studied abroad here, being generally gross and affectionate in public places all weekend, and discovering our total inability to decide on what what want to eat for any meal, ever. It was so, so good :)

As for my every day life, I think the best update is a nice little things-I-did-today list. Why not, right?

1. Decided that it was just too cold to manage standing in my bathroom and waiting for the bath to fill.
2. Only got 2 sips of coffee before I had to go to class.
3. Was therefore not caffeinated enough for #4.
4. Translated some Latin. (more priceless things from Dr. P M-S to follow. Yes, those are actually his initials, as it turns out.)
3. Drank coffee. Felt better.
3. Read some Boece. Felt good about my productive streak.
4. Finished up my CV and cover letter.
5. Turned 'em in to a boutique just around the corner from me.
6. Felt REALLY good about my productive streak.
7. Started perusing things like Glamour and E4 (online TV).
8. Said goodbye to that productive streak.

Eh, whatevah. I went to a class that I'm not getting credit for this morning, and tomorrow I'm dropping into the undergraduate lecture on Beowulf at 9 am. On my day off! I deserve at least a couple hours of bad tv and trashy magazines, right?

Oh, and as promised, the gems from Latin, courtesy of Dr. P M-S. (I'm never going to call him anything else, because apparently I have the intellect of a 12-year-old girl, and still makes me giggle.)

- Last week, we went over a handout sort of about the medieval concept of the heavens. He concluded: "So that's the universe," and promptly moved on to something else. Only this man could have such a tone of authority when presenting what's generally been regarded as a huge, mind bending matter (the universe) and still have other things to teach.

-Today--and this is not so much funny as it is beautiful-- he was discussing the word "saecularis" (most nearly "secular," referring to the present time/the world), and trying to explain its inherent connection to the word "aeternus" (the eternal), and he just lays this one out there (and you have to imagine the Scottish accent, because the rolling r's make it that much better):

"Every time you write down the word [saecularis] there is something whispering in your ear, "aeternus, aeternus."

And now that I've written that down, I feel I can't even follow it up with something clever. Until next time!

day 1: "English is a sledgehammer."

Despite my initial hesitation regarding the Latin-for-no-credit proposition, after my first day, I'm pretty sure it will be among the best things I experience all year. No, it's not because one lecture has converted me to an instant classics-lover (although, let's be honest, it's not out of the question). It's wholly and completely dependent on a certain professor by the name of Dr. Maxwell-Stuart.

Now, we've only just become acquainted, but I'm pretty sure that Dr. Maxwell-Stuart is most badass* professor I've ever encountered. I don't care what you say; nothing will ever top this man.

Evidence:

Let's be shallow for a moment, shall we?
- Full kilt attire. (On a side-note, it's rumoured that he goes "full Scotsman." If you don't know what it is, go look it up. But I, for one, am content to let rumour remain. There are some things my eyes will never need to see.)
-One gold hoop earring. Professor by day; pirate by night?
-Completely bald. With a very intriguing scar on his impressively shiny crown. Or maybe it's a wart, but as with the rumour, I don't intend to get close enough to find out.

Moving away from his totally EPIC appearance (right?!), I offer some quotes in support of Dr. M-S's inherent badassery.

-"Write down what I say."
...And thus commences a translation exercise after half a lecture. On the first day. For any student who remembers what "Syllabus Day" is like, I could rest my case here, but I will not.

-"Pedantry is my forte."
Terrifying from a man in an earring who's meant to be assessing your work.

-poorly paraphrased: If you do it my way, you'll likely be right. If you do it your way, you'll likely be wrong.
The man is nothing if not straightforward.

and of course,
-"English is a sledgehammer."
You gotta give him credit for saying this to room at least half full of people who intend to make English their career. Touche, sir.

And that, friends, was Day 1 in Postgraduate Beginner's Latin. I fully intend to keep a running log of priceless moments for your entertainment, as I'm sure they will be many.


*Note: Please don't be alarmed at my crude language. I would, however, like to cite the title as grounds for legitimising the use of swears...At least theoretically :)

suprise classes are my favourite!

I had rather a shock today when I found out that Latin is the unspoken requirement in the Medieaval Lit degree.

Suddenly my courses have gone from really manageable (1 on Monday, 2 on Thursday) to rather overwhelming (2 on Monday, 1 on Tuesday, 2 on Thursday...plus another one on Monday to start in week 8. YEAH.)

Also, Latin? Latin? I mean, if I stop to think about it, yeah, of course. Ya gotta have some Latin under your belt if you're not gonna take, say, Middle French. But they should definitely list that under the course requirements if they're going to "strongly suggest" upon arrival that you should take an extra course.

So, on the upside, this is really useful to all the things I'm going to study, and I'm very grateful for the opportunity--particularly the lack of extra cost.

On the downside, there is literally no way to do this degree without becoming totally and utterly useless to the real world.

Ivory tower, here I come!

Today, my professor suggested I jump out a window.

Seriously, he did!
Not to worry, he was kidding. Heh, heh. Ah, British humour. It's one of the many things I ADORE about my programme. Ready for the rest?

-the size: 8 of us. well, and apparently 1 missing student. he never showed up today, and we're all wondering where he's hiding. on that note...
-the professors: all a little sarcastic. and they like to make jokes about hiding their students in cupboards, or suggesting they jump out of windows. still a little on the fence on how I feel about that.
-the COURSES. oh, I am so happy with my courses. more on this later, when I actually attend them.
-the total free reign we have in the English department. As postgrads, we can audit ANY class in the English department-- just show up and learn something. Could life be better?
-The location: across from a castle. I know this was new to me 2 years ago, but it's still frickin' cool.
-The amount of wine served at the Postgrad Party, hosted by the department. Enough said.

I think I'm going to enjoy this year.

i resemble that remark.

Well, this evening I had dinner with a few friends, mostly as a vehicle for excellent banter and ribbing. Unfortunately, I kinda made it so that I had to receive the brunt of the ribbing. Want to find out why? Good, because here goes:

So we're prepping our meal-- chatting, stirrin' pots, and choppin' stuff. And I'm feeling really happy, and kinda grown up, to be preparing an actual meal with my friends (ie, not just pasta). I'm puzzling over my onion. Because it doesn't seem to want to slice. Try as I might, it just will. not. cooperate. So I'm bearing down with more enthusiasm and vigor...and apparently more stupidity, too, because I am chopping with the wrong end of the knife. So when my finger slips off the handle and onto the top of the blade, it turns out I'm slicing my fingertip open with a very, very sharp knife.

I've got a a few very choice words to say at that moment.

Which of course, gets my cooking buddy to turn around and ask what on earth I've done to myself. I hold up my bloody finger, and he goes running for a first aid kit.

He comes back with a first aid kit, and a helmet, offering to fix up my finger on the condition that I protect myself from further injury from now on.

The rest of our buddies come in to find me with a bandaged finger and a helmet on my head, sipping a glass of apple juice. So of course it's "Who let Christy near the sharp objects?" and "I can't leave you alone for 2 minutes!" and "Three days before an injury--it's gotta be a record!"

And that, friends, is why I love this place. Because the second I start to get a little sad over becoming a "grown up," these folks make me feel like I'm 5 years old again.

i am inept at only the most vital stuff.

--like figuring out how the heck the heating in my flat works.

Try as I might, I can't figure out how to get the boiler to heat my flat / power the radiator in my room...without making horrible noises. I turned it on yesterday, and it sounded like Dobby the Elf had made his permanent residence in my cupboard under the stairs. And that he'd decided to pursue a career as a blacksmith.

So I've resigned myself to a chilly nose and lots of layers until my flatmate gets back and finishes moving in. Because maybe 2 idiots are better than one? Actually, she's doing a sciencey-degree, so maybe it's just the one idiot.

APART from that, however, MAN, is this flat incredible! I'm in this little postgraduate complex (so it kinda looks like a little courtyard full of condos) tucked away in town. But they're BEAUTIFUL. They're definitely newly furnished, and they look like they're newly built too- Lots of high ceilings and pretty windows. (Fun fact, I can see sort of into what I think might be a pub on an adjacent street. Unless somebody's got beer taps in their home. No judgment.) My room is tiny*, but it's just the right amount of space for little ol' me. I think my favorite room is the kitchen though-- big windows looking out on the common courtyard that gets sun in the afternoon (if there is any ;)) and a precious little table.

Other funny quirks include:
-the living room couch-- the only piece of furniture (or color, for that matter) AND it's comically small. I had my two 6'-something friends sit on it, and it looked a little absurd.
-what my flatmate and I have dubbed the "spare room"-- a room, separate from the living room with no furniture or decoration to speak of. [Currently taking polling my friends on what it should become, but they're mostly guys and keep suggesting a "man-cave"...nixed.]
-my showerless bathroom (there is a bath, thankfully. guess I'll just have to be a bit more leisurely when it comes to hygiene.)
-the downstairs bath that looks, from all outward appearances, like a sliding closet door.

And beyond my really wonderful flat, I've had a great time reconnecting with friends-- from getting picked up from the airport, to having an entourage to escort me/my luggage across town to my flat, to seeing a whole slew of them at a birthday party last night, to church this morning with a dear dear friend...plus a few new ones! :)

All in all, St. Andrews feels much more homey than I ever expected it would feel after being removed from it the last couple years. I am happy beyond my wildest happiness.

*retrospective edit: not tiny at all. it's actually HUGE compared to the closet that other univeristy-housed students get. It's just not huge compared to my flatmate's :)

an outdated update

Yesterday:

Well, I am more or less in one piece.

I’m writing this particular entry from Heathrow, to be posted later because this airport is stingy with their WiFi, and I’m equally as stingy with my funds. Might as well wait for the internet I’m paying for, right?

Anyhow, here I am, sitting in that frickin’ holding tank in Terminal 5, drinking a pretty bad Americano, and feeling like my life is really surreal. By which I mean, I’m fully aware that all my (apparently very heavy) crap is somewhere around here waiting, like me, to get to Scotland. But I don’t think it’s quiiiiite sunk in that I’m not just here for a visit. It’s probably the sleep-deprivation (although I have to give a shout-out to British Airways for the best sleep I’ve ever had on a red-eye)…but it kinda feel as though I just exist in airport-world. The whole leaving and having a life somewhere after my plane lands in about 3 hours is more than I’m currently able to comprehend.

And what’s probably sadder is that I’m sitting in an exciting airport, writing (at least literally) to no one. But the thing I want to be doing right now is updating all my loved ones back home that I’m alive and well and totally exhausted and marveling at the middle aged woman in front of me wearing—I kid you not—pink jeans and a top that looks like a disco ball. It’s 10:30 am. London, I’ve missed you.

Ooops, she just spoke French. My people-watching skills need some honing.

Anyway, my point is that I miss home already. Not in a bad, I wish I hadn’t come here way. But just in the sense that I’m…well, a little older (hopefully a little wiser, too) than when I was a little sophomore (who let the 19 year old go to Scotland for 5 months? I was such a silly person at 19!). Anyway, last time I was testing the waters; I didn’t know what it’d be like to leave home behind. Actually, I was kinda glad to because I never had. Now I guess I’m starting to feel I the weight of starting off on my own adventure.

And I gotta say, this version’s a little more somber. And deliberate. And yes, exciting, but in an oddly peaceful way. I’m content and at home, even in this silly airport. And I think those are all really good things, actually. Because—get ready for this—I think it may mean I'm not just flinging myself through the universe anymore. :)

couldn't wait to get going, but wasn't quite ready to leave

The title says it all (it also says "go listen to 'American Honey'" :)).

I am, honestly, incredibly excited to leave. My love for airplane travel has diminished considerably after a disaster-ridden return from London last spring, in which I ended up stranded in NYC for a night, then stuck in Atlanta (or, as I lovingly refer to it, my personal purgatory) for a day. But somehow, I still love flying. Especially the feeling of taking off, being untethered from all the things I own and do. It's just peaceful--the calm before the storm of whatever vacation or event or big life-changing move (ahh!) I happen to be headed to. And okay, I do still enjoy most airports because I just love doin' my own thing in a big crowd--which mostly means getting myself a Starbucks and a girly magazine, waiting by the gate, watching the everyone bustling around me, and daydreaming about wherever I'm going.

And boy am I thrilled to get where I'm going. Obviously, I'm excited for my classes--because who WOULDN'T want to learn Old English? Well, okay, I might be one of a very select group. But I guarantee we're the coolest bunch you'll ever meet (hah). It'll be awesome to catch up my friends, and hang around all my old haunts again. Not to mention the excellent weather! (hah, again. but I do actually like it. For those of you keeping track at home, Christy's Normalcy Points: -2)

But it's scary to think about doing more than a semester. It was awesome, but it was sometimes lonely. And my family is gonna be faaaar far away! I know I only have to last till Christmas, but that's still frickin' long time after living at home since May. So that's got me a little sad. And also, knowing that I may not ever come back to this house (since oh, minor update, we sold our house!). So that's a little weird. But hey-- just another transition, right? This is growing up, I guess.

On the upside, I'm pretty sure that it won't be quite the same kinda loneliness as last time, in that I already have some thoroughly ridiculous and wonderful friends. And (have I mentioned this? I don't think I have) my boyfriend, Greg, is studying Creative Writing in Glasgow this year. Yeah. I'm super proud of him. And also suuuuper happy not to have him across an ocean. He's already there, and every time he mentions things like Tesco and Costa, I get more and more pumped to get back to our favorite country :)

Okay, so maybe I'm ready. Guess I better go get my suitcases packed.

Homelessness is cool, but . . .

I just signed my lease for a FANTASTIC flat in town! I feel more like a grown-up than ever. My natural reaction is to do a little dance.


Okay, so maybe not THAT grown-up.

A New Regime

Generally speaking, I employ the following strategy for beginning my school year:

1. Try to enroll in classes
2. Find that I haven't paid some library fine (or worse, tuition)
3. Feel ashamed
4. Indulge feelings of shame; live in denial for a day or two
5. Finally talk to financial aid, find out my loans are about to be disbursed
5. Wait
6. Pay, reluctantly
7. Enroll in classes, for real this time
8. Cross fingers that I still have money for food
9. Buy groceries, fingers still crossed
10. Do a victory dance at checkout
11. Gorge myself on the spoils of my trip
12. Embark on my first day of class
13. Realize I haven't looked up the classroom number
14. Show up late, without a pen or notebook
15. Feel like a terrible student . . .
16. Repeat steps 12-15 for the remainder of the semester

Needless to say, I'm not good at logistical things like meeting deadlines and paying bills and all those other mundane adult-life details. Also, finances generally frighten me (especially when they involve numbers over, say, 20). I've been fortunate enough to have my parents taking care of my undergraduate loans (yeah, parents! bet you're glad you funded THIS breadwinner!) but this next endeavor is on me.

YEAH. Those are some big frickin' numbers.

Also, I don't know if you're aware, but moving overseas is a logistical pain in the butt. There's the Where The Heck Did I Put That Passport panic. And then the Holy Crap, I Have So Much CRAP revelation. Not to mention the But How Will I Afford to Eat conundrum and the ever-important Please Don't Make Me Live In A Box By the North Sea application.

These are all things that, under normal circumstances, would crush my free spirit and send me into a maze of procrastination. And of course my inevitable guilt would then throw me into a winding pit of overwhelmed despair from which I would probably never recover--at least not in time to meet any of my school-enrollment deadlines.

But ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that (miraculously, and without apparent explanation) I've adopted a new regime! Since I received my acceptance letter I've morphed into a whirling dervish of pro-active behavior. If you were to peek into my room these days, you'd find a closet-cleaning, packing-list-making, business-emailing, loose-end-tying, finance-managing, thorough-thinking, more-than-day-ahead-planning FIEND.

It's okay to be mildly unnerved. I am.

Still, I think it's this strange phenomenon, (almost) more than the ephemeral feelings of belonging or purpose, that confirms the "rightness" of my year at St. Andrews. Finally, I've found something I want, and I'll do whatever it takes to get there. Even, heaven forbid, manage my finances.

Christy Goes Abroad, Round 2

Well, folks. It's been a while, hasn't it?

The intervening years since I left you all hanging have been, in a word, eventful. Let's see if I can sum them up.

I returned rather reluctantly to The Burg after some very hilarious travels to London and Florence. Stories I continue to tell include the time my friend Courtney carried all my worldly possessions on her back through the Underground, and the time I wore all of my clothing because my luggage weighed too much.

Upon arrival, I promptly contracted mono (yeah. seriously.) So, I spent a lot of junior year asleep. I'm told I also went to class. It wasn't the best year.

But then, senior year! Kicked it off with some rather ridiculous, poorly-planned, and at times completely stupid but also very fun Euorpean travels with my friend Becca, who'd been studying all spring in Valencia, Spain. Spent the rest of summer as a camp counselor in California - probably one of the most exciting and rewarding and challenging summers of my life.

I split the rest of my time at W&M pretty evenly 3 ways:
1a) Limping around on crutches for a semester after a camp-related MCL injury.
1b) Explaining that I broke this elbow ice skating, showing off my sweet scar, and bragging about my brand new metalwork. (These shenanigans earned me the nicknames "Gimpy," "Cripple," and "Broken Girl.")
2) poring over Middle English & Scots poetry and writing a 63 page thesis on the third floor of Swem.
3) Socializing and ahem, refining my taste for fine beers and liquors in the Green Leafe (one of three bars in Williamsburg. yes.)

Apparently that was a pretty okay balance, because the gave me this diploma thing in May, and told me that I couldn't come back anymore.

Which was honestly a little sad and scary for a few weeks.

BUT IT'S OKAY!

Because about 2 days ago, the University of St. Andrews informed me that I've been given an unconditional offer of place to complete an MLitt in Mediaeval English.

Translation: Christy Goes Abroad, Round 2.

Now, this version's going to be a little less silly, and a little more academic. Okay, well maybe just a little more academic because, who am I kidding? I'm still me. :) But I figured it might be a worthwhile thing to record my adventures as I set off on this new (very expensive, very nerdy) chapter of my life.

Cheers!