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.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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.

Good Night

I think it's going to be a good year.

After my nap, I left the dorm (which is in absolutely terrible shape, like something out of a movie when they're trying to make a point about the awful conditions some people live in. Okay, maybe not quite so drastic, but it's pretty bad.) and I wandered around for a while. I didn't intend to be gone long, so I only wore flip flops.

And then I got a little turned around.

In all honesty, I knew how to get back, but it was such a loooong way that I kept turning onto different streets thinking that this one surely had to be a shortcut of some sort. So I actually wandered around Edinburgh for about three hours.

It turned out fine, though, even though my feet are still killing me.

Once I got back, I was trying to be productive--unpack some more, pull out the hangers I bought and start clearing the already-considerable mess I've made. I left the door open since I'd only met one other girl in my twelve-girl suite (codename Blondie). She invited me out to a club, but I couldn't remember what it was called or where it was, so I'd resigned myself to staying in and just going to bed early.

And then another girl stumbled by, whom I shall call Alaska, after her state of origin, even though she goes to Dartmouth. She's very friendly, very people-oriented. She'd been hanging out with a boy (codename: England) who is a U of Edinburgh student but who'd studied abroad at her school last year. That's where they met.

So Alaska and England were headed off to a couple different "freshers" activities (freshman orientation stuff--mostly clubs and bars on campus that were only open to freshmen, actually) and Alaska immediately invited me along. I leaped at the chance, since, you know, I'd like to get along with everyone I'm living alongside this year.

England ended up taking us the long way to the freshers' stuff, but on the way we ran into a girl Alaska goes to Dartmouth with (codename: Arizona), and at the library bar (yes, the campus library has a bar and a pool hall in it!) we met a guy from St. Lucia. I didn't have any ID on me that proved I was over 18, so I didn't drink, but we all hung out at the different bars, went to a few clubs to dance, met a few more girls from my suite, and baaasically had a jolly good time.

(Apparently, that's quite a pretentious thing for an Englishperson to say. Not surprising.)

And now it's a quarter to four in the morning.

Good night. (It was.)