I Hate Essays

Oh how I hate essays. I have been on this one essay for nearly two hours. I have 200 words...it needs to be 2,500. FLOW ESSAY FLOW! I need to come up with a chant--much like the rain dance, except for words. Words come pour out of me! Ah!

A Lovely Day To Be Caught In The Rain...

Ashley, Sara, & I in front of the Castle!

First off, it's my dad's birthday today! So...HAPPY BIRTHDAY FEO! I am jealous that my family spent his & Pong Pong's birthday together. But I got to skype with them (and cute Penelope!) so that was lovely.

Time flies here. It really does. Whoosh, time gone. Not much has happened since my last post. I can't believe I have been back over a month. That's crazy. Well let's see what has happened? Ali read his story out loud to class and people were dumbfounded. One girl said, "I am so disturbed." While a guy said, "Yes...but I liked it." Then the girl insisted, "Harry would NEVER betray Ron like that...never." People looked at her funny as she continued, "G-od, I am such a dork." Later in the conversation I go, "Well honestly, Harry would have the muggle porn himself unless Mr. Weasley has a secret stash of porn in the Burrow somewhere...." Everyone stopped and turned to me, mouths a gape as I realized what a dork I am. So I say with finesse, "Yes, I know, i'm an even BIGGER dork!" It was quite funny. Ali though, defended his piece profusely calling it "profound." He didn't explain why it was...but his Harry Potter soft porn was just profound. I admire his belief in his work.

There is a wonderfully attractive Asian boy in Sara's sociology lecture. She told me about him as we were walking through the meadows one night. And she nudges me and I look up and one of the most attractive guys walked past us--I gaped. I unabashedly gaped. I swear, my head did a complete turn as he walked away...It was just blatant gaping. The next week, Sara and I are walking home in the middle of a conversation when she says randomly, "Alex, we're going to have such a lucky day." Puzzled I ask why as she gestures ahead. The pretty Asian boy was walking towards us...I had to adjust my glasses! It is ridiculously bad. Not stalker level--and it will never be--but he is just so pretty to look at. Glasses and nice coats, a marvelous combination! Oh dear...

This weekend Ashley came!!!! It was WONDERFUL to see her! It had been way too long! On Friday, Sara and I took her around the Royal Mile, to eat some pig (YUM OINK!), and had some chocolate soup. While Saturday we went shopping and I did damage. Oh, boy, did I do some hefty damage. I found ankle boots that were divine. They cost a pretty pence. I called my dad just to make sure I could buy such expensive footwear. He said and I direct quote, "If you don't wear them, i'll smash you." So here I am with ridiculously expensive boots, but quite happy! It was just amazing to spend some time with Ashley and show her around Edinburgh. We walked so much. And the first day it was steadily raining (and I did not bring a umbrella) I really need to learn. But despite the rain, it was a lovely day!

I realize I need to keep track of current events. I need my daily dose of NPR, so my new homepage is the NYtimes website! That's all I can think of now. I will try to write more frequently and grace you with the mundane things of my life and magically turn them into charming stories! Oh random story. For my literature course, Subjectivity, Modernity and the Novel, my professor Bob Irvine, is intense. He once told a student in a lecture to "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" because he was talking excessively. Well we read Pamela, and in it the main character always evades being raped by her master, Mr. B (Mr. Booby) and Bob casually addresses the class by saying, "he is really not that great of a rapist, I mean he just gives up after she goes unconscious! he really is a pretty rubbish rapist actually." Awkward laughter ensued but Sara and I just wanted to ask him, "So, Bob, in your eyes what constitutes a good rapist?" Oh dear!

Hope everyone is doing swimmingly!!

Graveyard beneath Princes Street

Getting My Culture On

This week has been pretty low key. But I have been getting my culture on! On Wednesday night, Sara and I went to see a play called Twin Houses. "Imagine finding yourself invaded by a multitude of beings who act through you without asking your opinion. They grab hold of one or another part of your body, they creep in between your intentions and your gestures, emitting contradictory voices and they initiate strange discourses and courses of action..." I do not know why I thought it would be a good thing to get so creeped out. But there we sat, listening to the ominous music and peering into the dark stage. When someone came out with a puppet attached to them. At first you couldn't tell who the puppet was and who the actor was. It was FREAKY. Especially when the puppet pulled out a knife and sharpened it against air and proceeded to cut the actress's head--pulling it back and further back until it really looked as if her neck was broken. It was just too weird.

Then on Friday we went to go see Aida. I was completely excited for it. I was anticipating some wonderful Elton John & Tim Rice music. But this was no musical. Stupid Alex. Oh SO stupid. Obviously it was an opera sung in Italian. Of course! Silly me! It was my first opera. And I think maybe my only opera. Though I may still give it a chance. It was long. There was a nazi usher. She showed us to our seats (and these seats are made for short midgets--there is virtually NO leg space) and we were all piled on one side of the nosebleed section. A woman behind me had some groceries (or something) and elected to put them in the row across from her as to not take up anymore space of her own. Unfortuantely the usher descended upon her with a wrath. She told the woman she was NOT allowed to as she did not pay for the use of two seats. Though the theather was virtually empty--the usher was just not having it. Later, when it became truly apparent that NO one else was coming (it was pretty empty up there) several people tucked in my row wanted to switch seats. The usher came with her fury and told them they weren't allowed to move. The woman who had been originally told off, asked me, "so what did she say now?" As I relayed the order the woman got all huffed up and said, "Well, that's bull shit, love." It was hilarious. Overall though it was enjoyable (a little long) but luckily there were subtitles so I knew what they were singing. Afterall, I am very good with subtitles.

Now, for my creative writing class, the assignment this week was to write about a character already created and have them describe a movie to another person. I had to use their point of view to see how they would summarize a movie plot. Ali, bless his soul, is just not cut out to be a writer. Maybe he could think about going into soft porn scripts...who knows?
An excerpt from his illustrious work...
"Harry stroked his wand along Hermione’s thigh. Tremulously, he peered into her eyes, her soft eyes, before drifting his hand down the small of her back to clench her sweet rump. Despite the heady cocktail of centaur saliva and elf he had served with dinner, things weren’t proceeding smoothly at all. In fact, it was a complete disaster. Cardinal sin: he’d had to use the old wingardium leviosa to get her bra off. What if the slitherin crew got their hands on that information? Perish the thought."

I should not be heckling his creativity. But as soon as I read this, I could NOT keep a straight face. I am appalled, amused, and just overall worried. It actually gets a lot worse. He calls Voldemort, Valdimort, and Hagrid, Hagred. It pains me. But I am not the one to judge...afterall he has given me overwhelming compliments. So, Ali, who am I to put a stopper to your creativity? I just genuinely do not know how to respond to this much less workshop it.

Today Claire & I went to Ocean Terminal to go see Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist. I enjoyed the movie a lot. But the traveling to and from was not ideal! We were like going through the back streets of Edinburgh on the 11 bus, and every other second we were like, "where the heck are we?!" But we eventually go there. But being Sunday, the buses SUCK and run inconveniently infrequently. It was hilarious. We were standing at one bus stop for a good five minutes when we realized we were on the wrong side of the street. Oops.

Tomorrow is back to classes, but I have so thoroughly enjoyed spending my weekends in blissful laziness. Oh well!