Glasgow, sleepovers, & chaos at the airports

It feels like the whole world is freaking out a bit. The airports of the world, at least. The parents and brother left SD yesterday to fly to Edinburgh, but they're not due to land here for another two and a half hours. They had a layover in Arizona, in Philly, and if all went well, in Manchester right now.

I'm in my room. Pretending there aren't a bunch of things I ought to get done before they show up. (post office, clean room, do dishes, Christmas cards, caffeinate myself...)

I spent the night at Berlin's flat last night after spending the day in Glasgow with her and London. It was somuchfun. :) Even though (especially because?) we totally failed at the touristy bits. We wandered around the city centre for a while and ended up going into a mall (which, clearly, are exactly the same the world over. It reminded me a bit of North County Fair, to be honest, though it wasn't nearly so big.) We listened to some carolers then stopped at a cafe for some sandwiches that were not tasty at all. We wandered around a bit--couldn't find the exit, and couldn't go out the way we came in--then I steered us over to a particular shop I've had in mind for a few weeks to buy the Brother a Christmas present.

We didn't really have a plan in mind. London got directions to the cathedral, but he didn't understand them and was too embarrassed to go back and ask again (fair enough). We got everything clarified, but on the way we ran smack into the Glaswegian Christmas market, so we stopped for mulled wine and a ride on the giant swing... ride-thing. I spilled mulled wine down my sleeve. London spent the entirety of the ride shouting, "This is so much better with mulled wine!"

(London and Berlin outside the Glasgow Museum of Modern Art after we left the Christmas market--I'd forgotten to charge my camera, so this is one of the only pictures I've got of the day.)

We took a ride on the subway to a neighborhood that Berlin's flatmate had recommended to her, and the recommended bits turned out to be a dinky little street with pubs and American-style diners. So odd. It was pretty, though.)

I had haggis for dinner. Venison haggis and the tastiest mashed potatoes ever, to be exact. Not gonna lie--I was a little freaked out to be eating (and, I'll admit, enjoying) a deer, but I dealt with it. There was a lot of garlic. And it was tasty.

But venison haggis. Jesus christ.

We hung out at the restaurant's bar for a couple hours after dinner. Odd conversation topics, but we're kind of odd in general, so it fits. By the time we went, "Oh, it's getting kind of late. Maybe we should head back to the train station?" the subway had closed. We walked right by the entrance, then almost passed it again before we realized what had happened. Oops.

So we took a cab to the station, caught our train, and headed back to Edinburgh. We got off a stop earlier than I'd gotten on and went to Berlin's flat for a movie night. We curled up on her couch beneath one of the greatest blankets in the world with ginger cookies and pink-colored wine to watch The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo--I distinctly remember saying, "We could be watching Star Trek!" at one of the more disturbing parts. That movie is one big shudder.

I still almost fell asleep a few times. The only reason I didn't was because London and Berlin kept leaning over to see if I'd passed out yet. Yet! Pffft. So little faith.

But by the end of the movie, London and I were exhausted. Berlin, for some reason, was wide awake, but she was nice enough to let us crash at her flat for the night. Her flatmate was out and wouldn't be coming back for another day or so, so I got his bed and London got the big comfy couch.

I'm a little fuzzy on when I got up to say goodbye to London in the morning (he took a train home for the holidays this afternoon), but he definitely walked into room, took one look at me (asleep), and didn't recognize me. He went to get Berlin, completely convinced that her flatmate's girlfriend had come over during the night, sometime between five and nine-thirty in the morning, and kicked me out.

She didn't believe him, of course. I woke to them standing next to the head of the bed, whispering, "Look! That's not her!" and "Yes, it is! Of course it is! Look at her!"

I turned over and made a face at them. London laughed. "Oh, hello, there. It is you."

Warmth and color

The ice is melting. It's still colder than back home, of course, but for now there'll be no more slipping down flights of stairs or hilly streets, thank goodness. Exams are about half over--I'll be done next Wednesday, and then I'll have four days until my parents and brother show up. I skyped with my dad and The Brother last night. Every now and then I forget how hysterical their sense of humor is. Dad thinks The Brother and I bicker, but it's not bickering, it's banter. Ridiculous, teenage banter. (I might not be a teenager any more, but all The Brother has to do is open his mouth to bring me down to his level. So much for maturity.)

My colorful quote wall is spreading steadily, blossoming over the dirty beige paint. It makes me gleeful as anything. I'm so glad I didn't spend money on half a dozen posters, even though it probably would have made the room look more ordered and maybe more sophisticated. This, though, makes the room mine. It's my handwriting, my choice of quotes, my doodles between the words. And as for color--never underestimate a box full of Crayola markers. :)

I dun wanna grow up, I'm a toys 'r' us kid...

Everything has frozen solid now--it's gone from snowing at least once a day to enormous swathes of ice everywhere. Guthrie Street, where I live, is one giant hill. There's a flight of stairs (with many, many steps) for anyone who'd like to avoid the long way, but let's face it: it was a serious act of willpower to make it up the steps when they weren't icy enough to literally slide down.

(The last time I did make an attempt to get down them, I ended up clutching at the handrail for dear life as I slid down four or five steps. The ice had almost complete covered the steps, but I'd thought there was still enough snow to get a grip. So not the case. I ended up sitting on the handrail and sliding down the way mothers always tell their children to never, ever do because they might fall off backward and break their crown. It was maaaybe more fun than it should've been.)

Last Sunday, before everything had finished freezing, I went out with a friend (codename Freiburg) to the Meadows (which I'm sure I've mentioned before. It's basically a huge and open grassy space with paths and trees and prettiness galore. Except now it's all coated with snow) to have a snowball fight with her and London. London slept in and missed half the fun stuff, but she and I tried and failed to build a snowman (the snow wouldn't stick together), tried and sort of succeeded at throwing a few snowballs at each other--except she does this thing where she throws one and then runs away. She just turns tails and sprints off, and no way am I going to chase her across the Meadows.

We also found a park with relatively undisturbed snow, so we turned into kids for a while and went swinging and sang Christmas carols. I did a stupid thing and was rewarded with falling on my ass. It hurt. A lot, and I was sore the next morning. And when we got tired of the swings, we made snow angels.

I've made a snow angel once before, but really all I remember of it is how unhappy and cold and covered in melting snow I was afterward. But the snow was so deep and totally undisturbed that I really couldn't help myself. I spread my arms and flopped backward, trusting that the snow was deep enough that I wouldn't break my tailbone.

It was. :)

We found a chair made of snow that had frozen into ice. That was pretty cool. Wwatched squirrels for a while--I got kinda bored, but it was restful, I guess, and they're quite rare in Freiburg's corner of Germany, so she was completely enthralled. And then London finally showed up, and we went to a different, bigger playground and turned into kids again. We played on the swings, and the playgyms, and there was a ziplineanditwasawesome!

Fantastic, amazing, stupendous day. Absolutely wonderful. We went to a delicatessen when it got dark and the food was pricey but good. I ended up going back later this week to get my secret santa (for my flat) a gift. :)

Not gonna lie, I'm really, really loving these fits of immaturity. They make the frigid cold and the sun going down at 3:30-4 PM bearable.

Snow!

It started snowing a week ago. The day after Thanksgiving. It really couldn't have been more perfect--isn't that we (those of us who don't get snow) hear? Thanksgiving, then the Christmas season. Christmas equals snow.

A friend told me it was snowing, but when I looked out my window I didn't see any. Still, I ran out of the flat (then ran back in for my coat, then ran back out again) and actually saw one or two odd little white spots kind of drifting toward the ground. Just one or two, just enough for me to kind of scrunch my face up and go, "Is that a snowflake? Is that what that's supposed to look like?"

I'd never seen snow fall before. At least, I don't remember ever having seen it fall. My parents once took my brother up to Big Bear for a weekend when we were younger, and I went skiing my freshman year, but beyond that I don't remember ever having seen it.

But now it's snowed at least once a day for a week. Frigging amazing. It's everywhere. The airport here was shut down for several days and the whole country is basically freaking out.

This is a view from my bedroom window, taken a few days ago. It was snowing hard enough that all the flakes were visible!

Three days ago I had to go to the archery club's Christmas dinner at a nearby pub--it was a whole big to do, with the back room rented out and everybody getting dressed. I'd had a few reservations, like I would with anything I ought to wear a dress to, but it was so, so fun. There wasn't a whole lot of food, but dinner was tasty, the company was great, and I went with friends to two different clubs afterward. The second one is kind of our regular spot, I guess, and it's quite a dive. Terrible music that never changes, you know? But that night there were different DJs, so there was good music!

And then afterward, when the club closed and they kicked everybody out--at three in the morning, mind you--we had a snowball fight on the way home. IT WAS SO MUCH FUN I NEED A BIGGER WORD FOR "FUN." Hysterically fun. I like to think I kicked some ass, even while wearing a dress. :)