Monday, December 12, 2011

Goodbye to Scotland ... for three weeks

So I’m making the 8000-mile journey back to Californ-eye-ay in three days and as per usual, I’m avoiding packing as if it were … um … any other adult obligation. In case it isn’t already obvious, I have a phobia of adult responsibilities similar to the fear that some experience when they are in the presence of a bear, a shark, or a bearshark. Take your pick.

Sure I’ve looked at my suitcase a few times. I’ve even gone so far as to look at my suitcase and my closet in rapid succession — but as far as moving anything from said closet to said suitcase is concerned … nah, none of that. And plus, I think it’s going to feel a little strange going home. I believe this will be due in part to a few things: 1) jet lag times a thousand 2) trying to maintain calm while I once again switching sides of the road 3) getting used to Stephanie’s stupid face again 4) Getting used to Stephanie’s Grand-Theft-Auto-esque driving style again 5) having the ability to watch 15 hours of Family Guy and The Office at my leisure 6) Being able to cuddle with BUB at my leisure 7) trying to overcome jet lag by sleeping in a twin bed I’ve had since I was 2 because the queen size bed I’ve had since I was 13 flew off my dad’s truck when I was 22 and trying to move back home, thus lodging itself under a semi-truck on Interstate 5 … never to be heard from again. Also, I think it’s just going to be strange being back at my house, for a few reasons. Sometimes the problems you left at home are still there … waiting for you to walk through the door so they can punch you in the crap lousy face. Also, not being around the people I’ve been in the presence of for a solid three months will be weird. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

And of course there will be inquires in regards to my time here — some of them will most likely be how Scotland is different than the states, what I’ve learned since I’ve been here, how hot the men are, etc. So let me try to sum it all up:

Dail chuach am bainne ghobhar, suath ri d’ aghaidh, ’s chan eil mac rìgh air an domhan nach bi nad dhèidh.

In Scottish Gaelic that means: With violets and goats’ milk anoint your face, and every king’s son in the world will be after you. That’s it. That’s all I’ve learned about Scotland and that is what I’ll tell everyone. Dump a crap ton of goat’s milk and petals on your head and every guy will want to tap. Makes sense.

So my friends and foes, wish me a safe 18 hour journey and know that the next time you shall hear from me I will be back in my cozy little twin bed with the broken springs, all curled up in my mountain of blankets while my sole source of heat (a small and shitty space heater) tries its damndest to heat up my half-underground, -723456732 degree (Fahrenheit) room. I can’t promise you anything about the quality of the blog as I believe hysteria is the third stage of hypothermia … but don’t quote me.

And here are some photos I took within the last week:

Let's be honest ... they usually are 

On the way to Stirling ... *cue Enya

A cafe in Stirling 

Mean streets

I think we all know of whom I'm referring to in this one ...

I mean, that's just funny

The castle was like, directly to the right ... I think we got it

My friend Kasie from California came to visit moi

I almost did it ... almost


Yes please

Yes please, part 2

Thanks Stirling 

Fun fact, William Wallace stayed here when he backpacked through Europe

George's Square in City Centre. They get supes into Christmas. And for the last god damn time, 

Fun Fact pt 2: They sold Disneyland balloons at George's Square. Don't ask questions. Because I honestly don't know.

Maturity is the name of da game

On the ferris wheel with the bitches. I look like I'm about to sneeze. 

Fun Fact pt. 3: Kasie got asked by a elderly, drunken Scottish woman if anyone had ever milked her due to the bovine nature of her hat. Which, ironically, someone has. 

George's Square contd. 

Fun Fact pt 4: I did not fall once while ice skating ... weird. 

Leaving the Christmas festivities

The Queen Street rail station.




  1. I do NOT drive like someone out of Grand Theft Auto.

    - Steph

  2. Great photos. Fun sense of humour.

  3. I cracked up at the bit about your poor poor bed being pancaked by an 18-wheeler. That is comedy gold. Best of luck with the flight, have a good trip while home, and Happy Holidays!

  4. Welcome back to the good ole U.S. of A. Up till now most of what I know about Scotland I learned from the Mike Meyers' "its Scottish or it's crap" skits on Saturday Night Live (which he briefly reprised in the motion picture "So I Married an Axe Murderer"), and also from Groundskeeper Willie, on the Simpsons. But thanks to you, I have a feeling that is all going to change...

  5. Glasgow is fucking amazing. Sauchiehall Street has some genuinely awesome restaurants. A couple of years back, me and Mrs Cranface had a weekend up in Glasgow, which ended up being longer than a weekend due to heavy snow delaying our train and hence making us miss our flight back down to Essex, innit.

    I digress anyway. You may have done so already, but if you haven't, there is a curry house called Karma Sutra that is the epitome of delicious, and next door to that is an absolutely cracking tapas restaurant. They have easily the best paella I've ever shovelled into my gob.

    Anyway, have a fabulous Crimbo!