Layin' it on a little thick, maybe? (Everything's true.)

Excerpt from an application I've been filling out:

What would you tell a student who is unsure about studying abroad?

"The time I spent abroad was the best year of my life.  You're going to have more fun than you can even imagine right now, and you're going to meet the coolest people in the process.  It's okay if you're nervous.  When I first got off the plane in Edinburgh there was a moment of, 'Oh, my god, what am I doing?  EVERYONE I've ever known is thousands of miles away!'  But I don't have a single regret--I don't even regret the grease fire and landing myself in the hospital, or ending up on the wrong island in Greece and worrying about being solicited for sexual favors in the wee hours of the morning.  In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't even matter where you go--you'll never forget your time abroad."

It's kind of a lot of text for the dinky little box I was given.  And I really wish I could italicize stuff instead of capitalizing it. And I know it sounds kiiinda cheesy, but... meh, it's all true.  And I've said most of it aloud already to another girl who left for a semester in Stirling (also in Scotland) last week.
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Also, a year ago today I had already missed my first flight out to Edinburgh, had made it to my rescheduled flight, landed and lugged my massive 50lbs/20kg bags up four flights of stairs.  (Three, for you people counting across the pond.)

Exhausting.  And scary.  I've never felt so isolated: I didn't know anyone; I couldn't even call anyone for help if I needed it or got lost.  And besides (as I kept telling myself), what was my mother or my dad or my best friend going to do?  They were thousands and thousands of miles away.  I was totally on my own for the first time.

(And frankly, it was a matter of pride that I didn't call home for help or in tears.  It was one of those mornings after sitting on a plane for seven hours, unable to sleep, where you just grit your teeth and tell yourself that you got this shit 'cause you're awesome and damnit, you're an adult, now act like one!)

I didn't know what a Tesco or a Sainsbury was.  I couldn't find anywhere to eat, and I was too tired to wander far.  I slipped into an overpriced pizzaria on Grassmarket just before they started closing up and tried to both stay awake as I ate and not wonder too much about what I was going to do tomorrow.  Tomorrow didn't matter, I kept telling myself.  Tomorrow'll be much easier to handle after sixteen hours of sleep, anyway.  Or, you know, nine or ten hours.

And it was.  Fresher's Week was ridiculous and hilarious in all the ways that first week off at uni/college always is.  And by the end of the week, I'd already met so many of the people that I've been missing while sitting around my parents' house in California.

Hugs to all my Edinburgh friends, even if you're not in Edinburgh at the moment.  I miss you guys.  So, so much.

Neverending summer break

I literally didn't know what day it was today.  It was both one of the greatest and confused moments of this summer.

I thought it was Wednesday. 

It's Friday.

(Well, it's about fifty-eight minutes into Saturday morning, but you get the gist of it.)

Perhaps Wednesday was the last day I looked at the calendar.  Or Tuesday--that might make more sense.  I would have looked at it on Tuesday and gone, "Oh, tomorrow's Wednesday," and ended up doing that for the next... however many days.  Three days.  (Except the looking at the calendar part.)

Water from the sky

It’s one of those stupid familial inside jokes: “what is this water falling from the sky?”  It’s right up there with “yeah, and the Titanic never sank.”

First rain since I returned at the beginning of July.  Pretty frigging weird.  It’s a respectable rain for anywhere in the world, and a veritable downpour in San Diego terms.  (We’re always in the middle of one drought or another.  There’s never enough water for everyone who lives out here, and there probably never will be.)

I left my window open last night and dreamt of rain in Edinburgh—probably because I could hear it falling this morning.  It felt very real. 

Pens and PTSA. And dog turds.

I just found a pack of the nicest pens I've ever owned.  Yes.  Such success today.  Baked a cake (chocolate), mixed up the icing into the proper color (Tardis blue), cleaned a bit (under the bed), packed a bit (scarves, books and two mugs), read some of Dante's Inferno. 

Oh, and yesterday during a PTSA meeting my dog, in his profound excitement, pooped under the table and nobody noticed until after the meeting. 

Nobody said anything, anyway.  Noticing and drawing attention to the mongo dog turd under the dining room table are two rather different things.