Youth

Youth is a fickle thing. When we are young, the only thing we want is to be older, and in some cases, "respected." As we age, we realize that all we want is to be younger. The cliche that youth is wasted on the young is more true than most of us would like to admit. Lola has not lived myriad years, but sometimes she feels like she has. As she looks back on her life, she is proud of many of the decisions she has made, and not so proud of more than a few. What do we do with those poor decisions? There is always the option of chalking it up to being young and dumb. There is also the less appealing fact that yes, we knew it was a bad idea, but we did it anyway. And the least fabulous thought is that we made some of those decisions out of anger or spite. Lola unfortunately must admit to all three, but particularly the latter. She made an awfully stupid decision when she was but a young thing, perhaps telling herself that it was the best thing at the time, but knowing that the primary reason she did it was out of spite. And what was she rewarded with? Knowing that, out of being hurt, angry, and (embarrasingly) out of spite, she made the worst decision she could have possibly made. And she will most likely spend the rest of her life regretting it, and asking herself, "But what if...."

It Never Stops

Just when you prepare yourself for one thing, something will completely sideswipe you and knock you off your course. I have yet to decide if this is good, bad, or indifferent. Sometimes being led (or shoved onto) a different path is good; we see and experience new things. Other times it just plain fucks shit up. At the less than ripe old age of 30, I have decided I may be too jaded for my own good. Not only am I not getting nearly as worked up about things as I used to (which, in some regards is wonderful), but I find myself completely nonplussed by most occurrences. I fear that I could blithely sit by and watch some sort of tragic accident, and only be annoyed if something were to spill into my cup of tea. I feel there must be some fine line between caring and complete apathy... I just haven't figured out how to find it.

And So It Begins...

I sit here, on the eve of a potential hurricane, realizing that in a few short days work must yet again commence. Part of me (the OCD part) wants to go back through all the posts from Europe and format them appropriately. I am going to try to stay my hand on that one... a little imperfection does a soul some good. But now I must settle my wanderlust, and get back to business. But oh, how I like my vacation! On the bright side, it looks like I have a few new students... on the downside, Dean just upped my class limit from 27 students to 47... which sort of makes me worry about how many people they have scheduled for me.... God have mercy.

Thick as a Rock

Interesting Bits:
There is a faultline that runs through Scotland. In fact, where Edinburgh currently sits there were 5 ancient volcanoes, long since dead. North of this faultline the bedrock is granite. The buildings in this area are made from granite, mostly in a pink, white or grey color. South of the faultline the bedrock is a red sandstone, and the architecture there reflects the natural material. Its interesting to see the contrast that is nearly a clean dividing line between granite and sandstone buildings.
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St. Andrew's

On our way to Edinburgh, we stopped in the town of St. Andrew, the birthplace of golf. We walked around a bit and visited a ruined cathedral. When John Knox gave his inflammatory sermon in God knows what year, the Presbies left the Holy Trinity Church in a bit of a lather, walked down the street to the catholic cathedral (which up to that point had been the largest cathedral in Scotland), and began demolishing it by hand. It served as an unofficial quarry anytime the townspeople needed stone, now only 1 tower and a couple of walls remain.
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At The Bar

Last night after dinner, Dad and I decided to go to the hotel bar for a scotch. We ended up talking to some Irishmen, who were in Scotland on a fishing trip. They found out I was a musician, and wanted me to play the piano in the bar. Turns out the lid was screwed shut, so I figured I'm off the hook, right? Nope. One of them went to his room, got a screwdriver and broke into the piano. Unfortunately it was so out of tune it was unplayable. In the end, I sang a couple of songs, they explained fly fishing to me, and each one of them insisted on giving me a kiss when I lwft to go to bed. All in all, quite a fun evening!
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Swim For Your Life!

We went to a teahouse on the Falls of Feugh on the River Dee for tea and scones. Whilst dining, we heard about salmon fishing in Scotland from a fisherman, or "Gilly." I'm not exactly sure what salmon fishing has to do with tea and scones, but it was informative. We then went to the little pedestrian bridge over the falls and could actually watch the salmon swimming upstream and trying to fling themselves UP the falls. Takes a special level of stubborness to do that.
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Castles

Today we left the hotel at a reasonable hour for our day of touring. First we went to a little town near Balmoral castle, the private residence of the Royal Family where they spend each August. Braemar (the little town) was cute; did more shopping of course. We then headed towards Craithie Kirk, where the Royals worship. On the way we were able to catch a glimpse of Balmoral, but my speed camera skills lacking, I decided to buy a postcard. Next was Crathes Castle, which was interesting. Built in the 16th cent, the walls are 6 ft thick, and it is definitely built for protection. Even though some of the ceiling paintings had been lost over the centuries, overall it was not as ornate as some of the French castles; more practical. Lots of furniture and artwork.
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Accomodations

On this trip, we have been in relatively nice hotels, but this one takes the cake. It is a hotel and spa, that was originally owned by a man who got rich making and selling soap. The original wing looks like an old castle. Inside, there is ornately carved woodwork, gorgeous chandeliers, etc. I think I could easily live here. Too bad we're leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow.
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I Hope I Don't Jinx Myself

Lola has heard such horror stories of the Scottish weather, that she has, until now, avoided mentioning it, for fear that it will permanently drive the sun away. She had been told that it was cold, dreary and rainy, but the scenery is nice. So far, the weather has been quite lucky and Lola thanks the meteorological gods for this blessing. For the most part, it has only rained at night, or in the morning when we are on the bus. There has been quite a bit of sun, and Lola even visited the pool! Granted, it's indoors, but that is completely beside the point.
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