Classes Smashes, + some gossip

Gorgeous hall on campus...  I want to have class
in there! (I think I would be distracted by the
general prettiness though, alas...)

So, it appears that people occasionally do study here, despite all appearances to the contrary. After a week of stressing, I have finally gotten my classes sorted out, which is rather a relief. I am taking: Celtic Literature (2B), Scottish Studies 1B: Creating Scotland, and Shakespeare: Modes and Genres (typical, yes I know). Shakespeare promises to be interesting and not too hard (especially considering I have read about 10 of the 12 plays on the list! Hah. Nerdiness is a wonderful thing) and as an avowed lover of the Bard I think it should make me happy in general. Creating Scotland is a multidisciplinary study of the various forces that have shaped Scotland over its long history, and we have six or seven different lecturers coming in to talk about their various areas of expertise as they related to Scotland: Archeology, Anthropology, Geography and it's influence on the Scottish culture, linguistic studies of the Scottish dialect, cultural formation of the clan system and its eventual breakdown, ... It's a pretty exciting lineup. I am not even dissuaded by the fact that the lecture hall is massive (really, quite huge, and very steep, so that you are nearly writing on the head of the person in front of you...) and that there are seventy people in it (which, for a Macalester person, seems positively gargantuan). Celtic Literature will kick my butt, I think. It is taught in two sections, an Irish one and a Scottish one, and both of them involve tons of totally and completely unpronounceable names. Case in point: Giolla-Coluim mac an Ollaimh, Eoin MacMhuirich, Aonghas MacDhomnhaill, Mhac Fhionghuin, etc. And those are just the Scottish ones; somehow the Irish ones are worse. Dearie me. (Of course, they are absolutely gorgeous sounding when not mangled by the stupid Americans in the class...) The two professors are both very nice though, although the Scottish one is rather difficult to understand. The Irish professor is adorable; she looks like someone out of a history book, or a Victorian novel. In addition to her layered skirts, her leather boots, quaint buttoned sweaters and delicate features, she also manages to gather her hair into a heavy, elaborate, elegant bundle at the back of her head that looks like it must take HOURS. I really enjoy her lectures, and it is at least in part because her appearance is so appropriate: she matches the gorgeous, intricate molding and dark faded portraits that grace the walls of our classroom.

That is Teviot House, our student center.
Guess what?
IT IS ANOTHER CASTLE.
Oh, and it has multiple bars in it. ...!!!

I have gotten to know a few people in my Celtic literature class, which is pleasant: a few fellow American students, whom I identified by the looks of mild panic - identical to my own - that they had when required to say one of the horrendous names aloud; also a Canadian girl, and a few Scottish students as well. Bit of an amusing situation with one of the Scottish fellows - he and a few of his friends (I thought) were going for coffee after our morning class on Thursday and he invited me to accompany them. Turns out it was just the two of us, and we chatted for quite a while. I like getting to know people and he was very nice, so that was pleasant, and I let him talk me into getting lunch afterwards. Perhaps I am unpardonably dense, but it wasn't until we were halfway through the meal that I realized this was likely NOT meant just as friends (it was around the time of my joking admission that flavored vodka for me leads to bad decisions and his only half-joking assertion that that would be the first thing he would ply me with that I really caught on).  It was flattering to have someone want to buy me lunch/a drink, but he is a little older (26 I think; not a problem but not really my cup of tea) and alas, I am not interested. (Sorry for the lack of juicy gossip ladies ~ he is "not nearly handsome enough to tempt me," not to mention not TALL enough - you know me. Hah. Gold stars to the first one to name the quote... ) I had already agreed to visit a museum with him the next day - something I had been wanting to do anyway - and so I asked my friend Alice to accompany me to diffuse the potential awkwardness (for more on what does or does not count as leading someone on/a date, see the other blog to which I contribute: http://boygirltalk.blogspot.com/   :D It is amusing and silly and fun!) which she did beautifully. Three cheers for Alice!

We waited in The Forrest Cafe, a wholly volunteer-run
venue with eclectic, off-beat decor and excellent drinks.
Yes, that is a string of single gloves, with tags stating where they were found.

On our wanderings on our way to the museum we came
across yet another ancient gorgeous building.
Huzzah for shameless tourists snapping photos!!
No idea what the palace to the left is, but it is
truly beautiful.

Alice! And Teviot Row House. Yay.

I have been pretty lucky to have made such a lovely friend here: not only has Alice kindly saved me from the possible embarrassment of a not-date, but she has also been my fellow explorer, someone willing to split pints of Guinness (because really, that is a lot of very heavy beer for one person... or at least for me), and has accompanied me out into the big, scary world populated by People Who Go Out On Weeknights. Apparently, this applies to just about everyone in this city, or at least everyone who goes to the University. There is a club literally around the corner from my residence hall (or "Accommodations" as they are usually referred to) called the Hive, which, while not the classiest of venues ( it is peopled by either "twats" or sullen emo kids, depending on the night and music, it seems) does play danceable music, and has drinks that are affordable, and, most attractive of all, THE GUYS OUTNUMBER THE GIRLS ON THE DANCE FLOOR. I swear, I am NOT lying. Reportedly, this is not at all uncommon, I was amazed and ecstatic to learn.

This means that although I came down with a cold and don't feel up to partying this weekend, it isn't really a problem: the party will still be happening next week. (And the week after.... And...)