when she goes down, it’s hysterical
My little sojourn to Scotland is serving two purposes: 1. That I relax after three weeks in Bosnia; and 2. That finally, after I think seven years of internet communication and occasional drunk dials, I get to meet the wonderful and talented, Lisa-Marie. She and her equally charming other half, Jay, are kindly allowing me to stay on their couch at Monkey Towers.
Naturally, the first thing we did upon my arrival was to take a 365; it was day 359 for Lis, day 180-something for me. Then, of course, my hostess plied me with Irn Bru, a Scottish delicacy in the form of orange flavored soda, banned in the US for its inclusion of quinine in the ingredients. This beverage is apparently supposed to put hair on the chest of the meek and fear in the hearts of foreigners, but mostly it just tasted like extra-fizzy Sunkist with a hint of some other flavor that I haven’t quite worked out yet. It’s delicious.
I’ve been given quite a crash course in Scottish culture, which after Bosnia, is quite a bit more familiar to me. (Some part of my brain is still operating as if I were in Bosnia, because I keep thinking that I have to thank people with hvala and say ciao when I leave.) Here, it’s ta for thank you, and cheers whenever appropriate. I think I want to stay here forever. If it weren’t for the exchange rate, I think I might.
Yesterday afternoon, Lis took me to the Kelvingrove Museum to see an exhibit by photographer, Harry Benson. Born in Glasgow, Benson headed to the US with the Beatles in 1964 and decided to stay. The photos in the exhibition yesterday were astounding, and made me really, really want a digital SLR of my own. (Someday, perhaps.) I spent the most amount of time marveling at a photo of Liza Minnelli and Mikhail Baryshnikov (otherwise known as Aleksandr Petrovsky from season six of Sex and the City) in ballet clothes on the floor of a New York dance studio, both with cigarettes in their mouths and this fine, unimpressed look on their faces.
Last night, after wine and cider at the flat, we went to the 13th Note to see something called Drive Carefully, mainly consisting of local bands in a basement bar with about 15 people total in attendance. It was awesome. We went upstairs after the show and some guy named Billy who I kept calling Brian seemed really surprised when I described Bosnia as beautiful. I’m thinking that might be a common reaction.
After a little too much alcohol, and a quiz game I knew none of the answers too, we clamored back to the bus stop. We bought a glass bottle of Irn Bru (which I learned is not supposed to be sold in glass bottles after 10:00 pm because some drunkard might break it and get all stabby) and packets of crisps and luckily, the bus driver didn’t mind that my all day July 19th bus pass had expired an hour ago.
Back at Monkey Towers, we watched the remaining two episodes of Spaced and ate chili flavored crisps, which are still sitting in a bowl on the coffee table. After unexpectedly being woken up at 6:30 am by a fiercely bright sun, I threw my aching head back under the covers and got a little more sleep. I think this afternoon we’re either going to Edinburgh or Loch Lommond, but seeing as I’m not yet out of my pajamas, we haven’t made any definite plans in either direction.
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Tags: alcohol, Europe, Glasgow, Lisa-Marie, Scotland, travel