Blog IV Week III

Thursday 2 February 2012

Blog IV Term II: Week III


So that I don’t have a re-run of last week in which I forgot practically everything that happened, though instead of that happening this week due to illness it would probably happen as a result of my mounting excitement to go to Paris on Friday, I am going to write a bit of this blog each day. So while reading it keep in mind that each day was written on that specific…well day.


Monday: Begin the Paris countdown!  4 days until Paris.

Today, like the previous Monday, is turning out to be relatively uneventful. But it was a good…well actually I cannot say whether it was a good day or not just yet because it is not over. Like Aristotle said: you cannot say you had a good life until you are at the end of it. So I cannot say that I had a good day until tomorrow arrives. But with regards to the actual day, not evening (it is 4:44pm and the sun is setting), it was good. This morning I had my first cup of coffee since last Tuesday and not only was it a delicious cup but it was also a magical cup because the whole day (up until about forty-four minutes ago, then I crashed) I felt FANTASTIC (must’ve been the cinnamon I add). I felt happy and joyous (the likes of which I haven’t felt for some time) and I was just bubbling with energy- I could hardly sit still in my Scottish Literature class. When I finally got out of class, I rocketed threw the doors and went for a lovely walk down to Princes St. (I got so used to going down there every day in December before I went to London that I feel incomplete if I don’t make a visit daily). I returned to the flat about half two absolutely starving and was lucky enough to meet both Ghaz and the new flatmate, Laura, in the kitchen getting ready to sit down for lunch as well. So instead of eating a sad spinster (probably not using that word correctly but I like how it sounds plus the alliteration is just fantastic) lunch alone, I ate an enjoyable social meal.

The above portion was written about five in the evening and this portion following is being written on Tuesday. My night was pretty un-productive; I forgot to do my reading for my tutorial (five of Robert Burn’s poems) and only got a chapter further in my Stories for Boys book The Coral Islands. Instead of studying I sat in the kitchen with Lindsay and Laura talking about enjoyable girl stuff like boys. Also we came up with our perfect flat slogan: ‘ready to breed’, this was created after Lindsay once again stated that she viewed pregnancy as having a parasite living in you and I mentioned that my mom keeps telling me that she wants grandchildren (no pressure). Though my day was good the energy that ran through me all day and kept me bubbly continued to bubble throughout the night so I was unable to fall asleep (well that and I still have a fear that I am going to hear little mouse paws running around in the ceiling). Though my not being able to sleep ended up being a good thing because then I read the Burn’s poetry that I needed to read for my tutorial.


Tuesday: 3 days until Paris.

For the past few months every time I tell my friends or family about my homesickness they have either ignored me or hinted at their belief that I am just not grateful for being here in Edinburgh. This continual reaction has not helped my unwanted homesickness but only made it worse. Today I was blessed with two magnificent breakthroughs. The first though not super helpful has put me at ease a bit and the second has finally made me feel like I’m not the only one having problems. Since my senior year in high school I have had stomach problems due to anxiety and stress, I can usually control this by going to the gym and getting exercise because it releases my tension but since I have been sick I haven’t gotten a chance to go-and since I was so drugged up I didn’t notice my stress levels were rising. Today though my stomach started to act up and even a walk through the park to Prince’s St. didn’t help, in fact, it seemed to make it worse. So when I got home about half two I was feeling my old despairing homesickness again (one thing that people do not think of when they are considering studying abroad is when you do not feel good you want to be at home, I have discovered that I am more prone to homesickness when I don’t feel good; just a note for those considering study abroad). To calm myself down I laid down on my bed and did some deep breathing exercises at which point I made my first discovery: the reason why I have been feeling so homesick and having a re-run of stomach issues is that I do not feel fully comfortable here, so instead of relaxing when I get home or go to class my body just stays tense which leads to stress. I will admit (I wouldn’t really to my parents) that a lot of this tension is due to the mouse dilemma, though I have tried to get comfortable with it I’m afraid that if I just let it go then they will come back and I will be plagued with the sound of them running about in the ceiling and worrying about encountering them in the kitchen. Not exactly the most helpful discovery but it has put me at ease a bit and I know that working out (which I plan to do tomorrow) will make it better. The second and most important thing is that I encountered a girl from the states this evening that is having the same problems as I am: homesickness, difficulty making friends, etc. this was the biggest thing because I am finally convinced that I’m not the only one. So that is my spew about that.

On with my Tuesday. I’ve discovered yet another issue with my Literature & Scepticism class, besides just wanting to fall asleep all the time; I can hardly understand what my professor is saying! As I have mentioned my professor is Scottish and has a defined Scottish accent and speaks in low tones this entire put together makes it increasingly difficult to figure out what he is saying. No wonder why my notes are bad…well that and I faze out five minutes into class (today I was thinking about someone back home and the design of my second , this dilemma is also half the reason why I couldn’t fall asleep last night). This evening we were discussing Christopher Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus and I didn’t know that it could be so boring, but low and behold my eyelids started to get heavy and my head began to droop. Though the class did pick up an hour in and it actually went pretty fast, before I knew it it was break time and then suddenly it was ten minutes till six and then class was done. Oh but it was so embarrassing I coughed all through class, the only male student in my class actually gave me a bit of a nasty look! I can understand it though the professor talks so low that sometimes heavy breathing can make it hard to hear him.


Wednesday: 2 days until Paris


Thursday: Final Day!!!

Awoke early, before my 8am alarm and immediately-before even getting a cup of coffee- I grabbed my blue gardening basket  (which I use for a laundry basket) and headed down to the negative basement- home of Edinburgh’s worst washer and dryers. I loaded all of the two washers in the small hope that my clothes would emerge clean(er). I then paid the pound fifty for each washer, marked my return time and trudged up the stairs to the sounds of the building waking up. After 38 minutes I returned to the washing dungeon to collect and separate my ‘hang out to dry’ laundry from the ‘dryer’ laundry and placed the latter in the dryers praying that my towels would be dried and thus stop smelling of mould. My prayers were ignored. As usual my clothes came out feeling as if they had been through a tropical storm (not dryer, arguably wetter). So five pounds and two plus hours later my ‘clean’ clothes hung round my room creating a type of unpleasant rainforest effect.

To relieve the built up stress from doing laundry, I ran off (not literally I am a wretched runner and avoid it at all costs) to enjoy an hour work-out before my Stories for Boys ALG. Though it was a substantially shorter workout than the day before, it was a much better one and I enjoyed it immensely. I even felt less flabby! Bonus, a month of cakes, pastries, and no workouts has so far turned out not to be as bad as I originally believed. Though my energy may have been fuelled by an email a friend of mine sent me the night before with a clip of him which put my upper body strength to shame (he was basically doing push-ups while in the hand-stand position). So of course being as competitive as I am I had to outdo him (very difficult in a single day to obtain the amount of muscle that it takes to perform such a feat).

I would now like to take a break from my rather dull account of an actually awesome day to insert a disclaimer. As you have possibly noticed I talk about boys a lot in my blogs and more than one has popped up in my 15 plus blogs and I would just like to say (haha ‘this is just to say’ name that poem! Okays sorry just kidding, I am a literature major and it really is all I think about here in Edinburgh) that I do this for two reasons: a) I am a single girl and boys occupy a lot of my mind and b) I get a lot of enjoyment from my continual fumbles with boys plus they are just fun to write about. Also, when it seems that I’m complaining a lot take it with a grain of salt because that is really just how I get things across, that and cruel sarcasm-I tell Ghaz, Lindsay, and Paula all the time that if I am picking on them and being cruelly sarcastic it means that I care, I know I have a sick way of showing it but that is for a psychologist to figure out- so anyway, just take the complaining lightly (except the washers and dryers they really are crap).

My bra just dropped from its drying position into my trashcan….odd.

This week in my Stories for Boys class we discussed Treasure Island by R.L. Stevenson and The Coral Islands by R.M. Ballantyne; it was a very enjoyable class made even more enjoyable when one of the girls from my ALG got up to use the loo and another got up and went with her and my teacher commented: “Isnt that so like girls. They can’t go to the toilet in one”. It was quite entertaining. Right after class I went to the first of three LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) History month lectures, titles “From Subtext to Gaytext” by one of the professors at Edinburgh University. Before the lecturer began she mentioned the growing acceptance of LGBT and that Edinburgh University is creating an LGBT staff group, though she wasn’t really sure what they would all do together: “don’t know what we’d do, talk about how fabulous it is to be gay”. The lecture was very interesting, she talked about the slow growth of LGBT literature (literature that is about being gay or bisexual, etc.) and it was interesting to hear that even though homosexuality is so much more “accepted” here than in the States, there is still very little literature on it. Near the end of the lecture Katy Perry’s song ‘Last Friday Night’ was turned on by someone below or next door and so it was seeping through the walls, adding an annoying touch to the lecture.

After the LGBT lecture I returned to the flat and with my growing excitement for Paris I feverishly ran around my room packing, un-packing, re-packing and just getting everything together so I wouldn’t have to worry about it the next day. Everything was going pretty well but then at about midnight I heard the sound of running water, curious of the cause of the sound I opened my door and listened, after about a minute I concluded that the sound was coming from the toilet which meant someone was probably just taking a shower. Comforted with this conclusion I closed the door but then I stopped with the realization that it wasn’t the sound of someone in the shower, rather it was the sound of the shower being partially on and the water making a loud slapping sound as it hit the floor. With my heart pounding I approached the VACANT toilet and slowly pushed the door open. I peeked around and saw, to my horror, the showerhead dribbling water. My body went into panic mode. I reached in and turned off the water than knocked on the Laura’s door and asked her if she had taken a shower, her response was negative. Hearing the commotion both Ghaz and Lindsay came out and it turns out that no one had been in the toilet since as late as half-nine, so how did the water come on by itself at midnight?! At this point we were all properly petrified and convinced that there was a ghost in the flat because we had all walked in and found the sink tap dribbling. We all decided to go and talk it out in the kitchen (i.e. continue to scare each other with real ghost stories that we had heard). A little while later I called my dad and he said that it was due to water pressure build-up and a loose bit in the shower and sink knobs. Either way I was thrilled to be leaving for the weekend.


So due to this term being a bit unlike most terms I haven’t been able to really find the time to write these blogs with the weeks so most of what I write is from notes I made each day. Unfortunately for this week I didn’t make any notes for Wednesday, so Wednesday 1 February will be an empty day, I’m sure something happened but now that it is Wednesday 22 of February I cannot remember what. This term is definitely proving to be interesting, no necessarily in a good way. I’m not used to being so behind all the time, I’ve always been caught up or just a bit behind. I’m behind on my reading (though honestly having to read three to four novels a week is nearly impossible) and I’m behind in my blog and I have a sneaking fear and suspicion that I will be behind in my coming essays. There just don’t seem to be enough hours in the day, pity I cannot give up eating and sleeping, may have to consider it though.