Monday 6- Saturday 11 February 2012
Term II Week IV
On Tuesday, on my way to Scepticism I realized that I was running a bit early so decided to pop into the used bookstore that I always pass on my way to class and search out some books that have been on my ‘to read’ list. As I examined the novels comfortably my eyes grazed the H section and I was reminded of my futile search for The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris and as this thought passed through my mind my eyes landed upon that very book! Within seconds I had snatched the book up and purchased it and was happily walking to my Scepticism class clutching it tightly to my breast. After over a year of searching I had finally found it! Annoyingly though I can’t start reading it until this summer.
Sadly my earlier success did not follow through into my class, and like every other week in the wretched class I felt like a complete fool. Though today it was due to the fact that I had forgotten how to spell ‘religion’; ugh what a day to forget how to spell religion when discussing John Donne’s ‘Satire 3’! How bloody mortifying -for myself of course, this was just an internal battle that the rest of my zombie class was unaware of. Though I did realize at 5:25pm that it was still light outside and that brightened my spirits because it indicated the approaching end of the winter plague of darkness. While pondering over the fact that I had mentally missed yet another Scepticism class and fretted over the approaching consequences of my boredom due to that class when I chanced to look up into the night sky and see the most magnificent full moon glowing above the rooftops. My worries and fears immediately were forgotten as I gazed in wonder at the great glowing orb (though they were momentarily revisited when I was kneeling down to put my camera away after unsuccessfully trying to take a picture of this natural phenomenon and my Scepticism teacher walked by and mentioned how beautiful the moon was. We shared a beautiful moment together in our joint appreciation in the moon, though it was flawed because I couldn’t really understand him so instead chose to nod my head and look at him like a buffoon). Drawn by the power of this particularly mystical moon, I opted to walk a different, longer route home with hopes to get a good picture of this strong Scottish moon, but was unsuccessful –again. My photographic failure was swept away when upon turning a corner I was shocked by the view of the moon floating above Arthur’s seat casting a play of shadows on the rising mound. The overwhelming urge I felt to drop everything and run all the way to the top of Arthur’s seat was wonderful and scary at the same time, as I looked up at the moon I felt as if I was under a powerful spell and was saddened by my inability to go an lose myself in it atop Arthur’s seat.
After being awed by the moon I returned to my flat to discover everyone was going out and that I would be all alone until midnight or later. Such a dreadful thought, locked alone in the insane asylum of my flat awaiting the mice of my imagination to emerge when I least expect them to to terrorize me for the night until I am so frazzled that sleep is impossible. Okay that may be a bit of a dramatization, I wasn’t that freaked out about it and up until about ten I didn’t even notice that I was the only one in the flat, so consumed in my book for Stories for Boys. But with the approach of ten I began to get restless and felt the pressure of emptiness pushing down on me and the need to brush my teeth. So to fight off the silence of emptiness and yuck on my teeth I did something that I haven’t done for the whole year; I propped open all the doors, put my iPod in its dock, blasted my dance music playlist and while simultaneously brushing my teeth, began to dance around the flat sporting the my sexy attire of my CSU sweats and Scarlet Letter sweatshirt. Not only was this a blast but it also partially made up for the fact that I hadn’t gone to the gym. After about an hour and a half I was tired but happy.
Following my loony dance I called my home institute to get my summer school sorted out. After the call I was immediately pulled out of my dancing high and dumped into the bewildering realization that soon I will be back in Colorado. It feels like I’ve been in Edinburgh for years and my life in the States was just a distant dream (I have a terrible perception of time). My musings about returning are often and confusing, I’m scared to see what I’ll find.
On Wednesday morning I was awoken at about half-five to the sound of Ghaz returning from her night out with the medics in New Castle. Though I was mildly annoyed by this interference in my sleep (and it was quite an interruption I could hear her through my earplugs- still the best money I have spent so far, they really are mandatory here); my annoyance was quickly pushed aside when I looked out my window (I keep the curtains partially open when I sleep to let the morning light in so that I don’t sleep until noon) and saw the magnificent moon from Tuesday night descending. The effect of its powerful rays bathing my bed and myself in their light was even more mystical than when I had seen it earlier in the night.
Wednesday proved to be one of those bad days at the gym when no matter how hard you try you can’t seem to get into it and that just makes you feel frustrated, so to try and make yourself feel better about it you just keep repeating: ‘at least I’m here’, which really doesn’t make you feel any better. But anyway, past my sad attempts to lose my holiday weight, while I was stretching at the conclusion of my workout- which has always been my favourite part- I noticed this guy across from my mat doing these ridiculously intense push-ups (I would try to describe it but it really was one of those strange phenomenon that you just have to see). Though he wasn’t particularly attractive, I continued to watch him like watching a fire –I just couldn’t look away- and listen to the ‘Bad Touch’ by the Blood Hound Gang. It occurred to me after blankly staring for a few minutes that the song plus the situation was rather primal (what is it with me, all of my ‘interactions’ with men here have a very primal under and over tone, I seem to be regressing instead of progressing; soon I’ll just go up to a boy and say ‘you man, me woman, you fit for bearing children’…yes I realize how strange and rather backwards that sounded). I refused to do my ten pathetic push-ups while that man machine was in the vicinity.
On another primal male note: this week the RAs of the building are going around doing their term flat inspections. So I really don’t know what my deal is, but I had previously decided that I was no longer attracted to the male RA but when he came to the door to do the flat inspection with our other RA just one look from those chocolate eyes and I melt to jelly. Ugh what an embarrassing visit that was. So I was woken up from a spontaneous nap by Andy rapping on the door and was so confused that I went to answer it without putting on my glasses so I could hardly see and only realized it was them after they were in the flat. Though worse of all my hair resembled that of a crazed lion’s mane because I had put it up after taking a shower; and I showed my childishness when I admitted that I call my dad daddy and had called him in a complete tizzy after the whole ‘bathroom ghost’ incident. So my running rep with Andy: terrified of mice, looks mad in the evening and calls her dad daddy. All in a nights work, I may remain single my whole life. But the good news is that he knows my name, woo! Would’ve never guessed that turn of events since we very rarely interact, I just figured I would be one of the nameless many but then again I am a very memorable person.
After the visit from the RAs I finally finished the 244 page book for my Stories for Boys class, King Solomon’s Mines H.Rider Haggard, in three days!! This class is not only shaping up to be my favourite this term but also my ‘guilty pleasure’ reading; i.e. my excuse for not doing my reading for my other classes.
On Saturday my goals for the day were a) get all my research for my essay that is due on Monday done by the evening and b) put more money on my phone. I was expectedly unsuccessful with both goals; though the day was not a complete failure. On my way to Prince’s St. to top up my phone I passed the Festival Theatre where loads of people were standing around; in fact, the street was nearly completely blocked on both sides with people. Turns out ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ was in Edinburgh looking for, well, talent. I stopped for a moment to get a picture and then continued on not interested in standing around staring at a building that I passed every day just because there was a giant illuminated sign that read ‘Britain’s Got Talent’. As I continued on my way I pondered to myself if that was the show that Simon Cowell had left ‘American Idol’ for, as I mulled over this I considered hanging around to find out the answer (i.e. see if he showed up) but quickly decided that I really didn’t care. I later found out that it was. As I was crossing over the bridge to Prince’s St I noticed some interestingly dressed individuals in front of me and decided to go inspect and take a picture. As I got closer I noticed that there were three individuals dressed in very good and elaborate Star Wars costumes, intrigued by this I got right behind them and took a picture. Right after I took the photograph the guy in the leading the Star Wars gang (whom was dressed up like Darth Mal or whatever his name is the Sith character from Star Wars the Phantom Menace who has the red and black face and like six horns) was run into by someone coming from Prince’s St. The man who had run into the Darth Mal sincerely apologized then turned around and it was Simon Cowell, close enough for me to reach out my hand and touch him! Without missing a beat I whipped my camera around and got a brilliant picture of him. I then, grinning like a fiend, continued on my way.