So far this quarter

 

I look at pictures of Edinburgh when life in Santa Barbara starts to overwhelm.  As long as there aren't any people I know in the picture, it's very calming.  (If there are friends I haven't seen in months it's just sad.)  This picture was taken from about halfway up the Walter Scott Monument on Prince's St (that's what the brown/black spire is--part of the monument).  The first bridge with the buses is Waverly Bridge, and the odd coverings is actually the train station.  The other bridge, farther back in the picture, is North Bridge.  The first time I walked across it, the wind was so strong my scarf unwrapped itself and almost flew off my neck.  The hills in the background is Arthur's Seat.

Shorts weather in Santa Barbara today.  Dress weather, actually--it was too hot for even shorts.  It was pretty wonderful.  Somebody said it hit 83 degrees today (28 Celsius).  Even the wind was hot, like a Santa Ana.  I can't tell if I've got allergies in addition to my cold.  Blegh.  I love this weather, but blegh for runny noses and not enough cold medicine and pressure in the forehead that makes me want to either scream or curl up into a pathetic ball and groan in pain. (Thank god for Tylonal.)

I shouldn't complain.  One of my flatmates went to the hospital on Sunday for an awful stomach ache and ended up staying the night.  Horrifying.  Made me want to drive out there and give her a hug and some proper food.  (Except I don't have a car.)  For a while they thought it was appendicitis, and that she'd have to have surgery, but it turned out to be a lot less serious.  The day after she came home from the hospital, though, she ended up with both a cold and an ear infection in both ears.  Needless to say, she went home for the weekend to be babied.

My mother's coming up on Saturday with two of her girlfriends (both family friends) for a wine-tasting excursion.  Santa Barbara is wine country, I guess.  I get to come along, though if these allergies don't take a chill pill I don't know how much I'll actually be able to taste.

Whatever, though.  It'll still be nice to see my mother.