Does it count as hacking when he lets me do it? It feels more fun.
I think what I decide to do now is post pictures that have no relevance to anyone who views this blog. Ever. That is the kind of thing this blog needs, right? Right! Some people know Robin, I guess.
Wow, this is like, the lamest post there has ever been on this blog! Cool... I set a new record.
Now I am done talking to myself.
Signing off...
I'm back, but I done broke my camera, so no pictures for a while, I'm afraid.
Here is something else you can look at!
To everyone I got to visit while I was back in Washington, thanks for letting me visit you!
To everyone I didn't get to visit while I was back in Washington, sorry I didn't get to visit you... Maybe we can hang out at the wedding?
 | Season's Greetings! This is what happens in Glasgow when it snows. By the way... I'm coming home! For the next three weeks, I'll be back in Washington, so if you want to see me, get on queue. Not sure if much will be happening on the blog during that time. But since no one reads this thing, that shouldn't be a problem. And if anyone does read this thing, it might help them get outside and enjoy the fresh air instead. |
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 | CHAPTER 3: FORT AUGUSTUS Second stop: Fort Augustus. This is a pretty small, touristy town, with a canal right through the middle, as well as the River Ness, which empties which lake? Any guesses? So here's our obligatory Nessie sighting. What a monster! She ate all our oatcakes... | |
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 | CHAPTER 2: FORT WILLIAM The first stop on our self-guided tour of the highlands was Fort William, an old town on Loch Lochy (imaginative, these Scots!). We stayed in the old house of the Campbells, who were put there by the English to keep a watch on the town. Nearby was Inverlochy Castle, a real medieval castle with stone and towers and everything! It was Heather's first. I bumped my head on it and bled profusely. We also visited the cemetery. Good eye, Heather! And Merry Christmas, everyone! |
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Heather just came to visit me, like, three months ago! I thought I should start putting up some of the pictures that resulted from that. If you're attentive, you will probably understand the progression of events. This will be the first of well.. quite a few graphics-heavy posts submitted at highly irregular intervals.
SO.
 | Here is a picture of us waiting for the bus the day after Heather got here! We like to travel, apparently. A few days later, we took yet another bus to the small, picturesque, touristy town of Luss on the banks of Loch Lomond (of deserved bonnie, bonnie repute). Here we saw several animals and a very nice river, which Heather photographed. |
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I suppose the previous post has been up long enough for now... There will be many more pictures of Heather and me to come, I can promise! I think I'm going to try to post some from our trip around the UK, actually, so it will be a little bit of a step back in time. Hopefully nothing too jarring for those of us with weaker constitutions...
I had the opportunity to climb to the top of the University tower today, with a group of International students (Here is a picture of the tower, for anyone who doesn't remember). It was amazingly sunny, and the haze that usually covers the city like a poorly-applied coat of primer had apparently been cleared away for the occasion. Of course, I brought my camera! And of course, I didn't get any pictures of the town that I'd feel great about posting on my blog! If you want to see some of them, and get an idea of the location of campus in relation to my house, feel free to look here and here and here.
I did take a few pictures I think I can show you, however. Well. Look.
Left: The stairs at the top of the tower, seen from the top of the tower.
 | Below: The view toward downtown... You can't see where Heather and I were engaged because of the buildings in the way. Stupid buildings... |
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| Above: The shutters in the room below the bells | |
On January 5, 2006, in the Glasgow Necropolis, under the steady but approving gaze of a statue of John Knox, I made a proposal to my best friend Heather Ehli that we become married.
Heather thought this was a good idea, and instantly agreed.
This makes her my fiancée.
Alex came over to visit from Spain. It is a lot colder here.
I'll put up a longer post with more words soon! Honestly!
Here are more pictures, though.
Alex learns a few of the moves from Shiva.
This is the name of a real store in Glasgow. It doesn't mean what you think it means.
We went to Edinburgh. They put up signs to make you feel stupid.
We got tired.
Sorry I haven't been updating again (he says to his untold legions of faithful fans). But to make up for it (how can one ever?), here are some pictures from my recent trip to the Isle of Skye. Scotland is a pretty amazing place!
The ruins of Duntulm Castle, Isle of Skye. Supposedly the only male heir of the MacDonald clan was accidentally dropped to his death through this window by his nursemaid in her eagerness to show off the chieftain's newly-born son. The baby, the nurse, and the chieftain are said to haunt the castle, which was abandoned in the 1700s.
Fairy Falls, Isle of Skye. Our tour group is drinking the water from the falls, hoping the fairies will grant their wishes.
Crows near the battlefield of Culloden. Culloden was the last battle on UK soil, fought between the Scottish Jacobites under Bonnie Prince Charlie, and the English. Charlie fled the scene 30 minutes into the battle and ran away to France, surrendering Scotland once again to England.
Elian Donan Castle, Loch Alsh. Yes, for all of you who have been asking, I visited Loch Ness, too! No monster, though: He and I have been keeping up regular correspondence and may meet for coffee at some point during my stay here.
Everyone look at what my beautiful, exceptional, marvellous, stellar girlfriend Heather sent me!
So here's a post from the reserve. Fresh evidence that disco came to Scotland to die:
Apparently they have exhumed its stinking, rotting corpse and are marketing it in shiny wrappings. The flavor on the left, that you can't see, is called "Boogie Down Beef." It is what it says.
Sorry not to have posted in a few days... I have a story of what I hope the rest of the year will be like.
I arrived at 12 University Gardens, Rm 1 for my History of Enlish Language class, as indicated on my schedule, only to find that I had the wrong room. Luckily, my adviser, Jeremy Smith, was on his way out to teach the lecture and he informed me that it was to be held in a mysterious auditorium known only as "The Gloag." This is the sort of information I like to hear, as, of course, there has never been any sort of information session informing us how to find rooms on campus solely on the basis of arcane naming schemes; neither do any of these names appear on any map of the University (of which there are precious few, may I add!).
I followed Jeremy across the campus, and into one of the buildings that he informed me used to be the private residence of one of the University's original 12 professors. Three right turns, a hallway, and a staircase later, we were faced by a door with a timeworn plaque reading "The Gloag." I only hope I can find it on my own next time...
Here are a couple of pictures I've taken of the University's main building and tower. It was built in the mid-19th century to look old, so don't be deceived.
This is an interesting blog on politics and life in Northern Ireland. The style is to post something controversial or interesting and let the comments fly. Lots of perspective!
| On my first non-sick free day in a week, I celebrated by going with my German friend Torsten to the St Mungo Museum of Religious Life and Art. There really was a broad variety of religions represented, and it was interesting to see things mixed by theme in places (I wonder whether St. John and Shiva duke it out at night?). It was also odd to see Christianity | |
| represented so clinically and often incompletely. The exhibits tended to focus on the various paraphernalia used by Catholic and Episcopal churches, and what little doctrine it explained seemed wide of the mark. The museum is, of necessity, a secular institution, but I thought it took much greater pains than necessary to dismiss the validity of faith. Still an |  St. Mungo's Cathedral |
| interesting visit... The museum is one of those buildings in Glasgow that has been built to look old (15th-century style). What a city Glasgow is! They knock down all their old stuff to build new stuff that looks like the old stuff, but trendier... | |
| Torsten left from the museum and I went on to visit St. Mungo's Cathedral, the oldest cathedral in Glasgow, that was saved by the labor guilds when the Reformers wanted to tear it down. I continued from there to the Glasgow Necropolis. The Necropolis was set aside in the mid-19th century by the wealthy merchants of Glasgow as an elaborate burial ground, and also an attempt to control the spread of disease that plagued the city during that time. It's built up on a high hill near the center of the old city and there's quite a view from the top. I'm all about old graveyards!!! It's pretty sobering to see a huge hill of gravestones rising out of the middle of a living city. |  |
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But I can't stand optimistic titles, so I won't.
Today marks the first day I've felt at all comfortable here. Things just started out right-- I saw my first 60's Jaguar XKE today! I met several people in my department, and all were friendly, outgoing, and nice to talk to!
I also met my course supervisor, Dr. Jeremy Smith, who, in addition to speaking slightly like Wallace (Of Wallace and Gromit), has a warm personality and an infectious grin.
After the enrolment meetings, I went to the exclusive postgraduate club, which had a terrific small-community coffee-shop gestalt, and good music on the house speakers.
After quickly finding everything I needed at the local supermarket (Heather knows how rare this is, even in the US!) I walked home just in time to catch Heather on AIM before she left for work.
On top of all this, my cold seems to be letting up, my room is finally clean, my bed has fresh sheets on it...
AND...
...
I actually COOKED A MEAL FOR MYSELF.
By which I mean that I used ingredients that were not previously cooked and compiled a complete dinner! I fried the sausages, baked the potato, sliced the carrots and the cheese— I even made a pot of tea!
I know it's out of character for me to speak in terms such as these... Extreme situations call for extreme language.
Please bear with me.
Also, English mustard is just the thing for one's sinuses.
| I went into a military surplus store near my flat today. At first it seemed much like most U.S. military stores, until I noticed the total absence of anything dangerous. No Sheffield service knives, no machetes, hatchets... I think they might have sold kitchen matches. They had those cool British army sweaters-- the kind with reinforced shoulders and elbows. I think I'll buy one, but I have to decide whether I want army or navy (drab or blue). Suggestions? The British call sweaters "jumpers," but the idea of an Army jumper strikes me as a terrible juxtaposition. The sight of tough British troops advancing | |
| resolutely in pinafores is certainly an intimidating prospect, but I think the reason is other than they intend. Luckily for me, when I buy one, I think I'm allowed to substitute the word "jersey" if I'm too embarrassed. May I also take this opportunity to recommend Victory Lozenges! Forged for strength! I don't know if they're helping my cold, but they sure taste nice. |  |
