Invasion of the Starbucks.

Six years ago when I lived in France, I had to hunt down the only Starbucks in Paris near L'opera Garnier.  Now, with my first day in Glasgow, I have seen five.  Just on the 15 minute walk to school.  (p.s. they all smell the same. Although they call their breakfast sandwiches Bacon/Sausage Buttie.  yeah.  I had a good laugh on that one, too.) 
Sadly, I did partake in that as well as Pizza Hut with my new friend Timothy of Houston, TX.  I know.  Pathetic.  And incredibly cliche.  But after being up for well over 24 hrs, I went for quick, easy, and familiar.  I'll leave the fish and chips (they are everywhere) and haggis for another day.

So.  Some questions to be asked and answered:
Did I hear bagpipes in the street while walking around?  Yup.

Did I see tacky hoodlums in green velour jumpsuits that would be our version of white trash? You betcha.

Does Scotland smell like it always does after a good rain?  Sure 'nough.

So, so far so good.  I landed at Glasgow international at 730am this morning without a lick of sleep.  During the descent I was playing a rather arduous and intense game of solitaire when I glanced out the window.  And I froze.  It really is so breathtakingly beautiful.  Green everywhere mixed with stone buildings and bridges.  Glasgow itself is a bit industrial (reminds me of downtown Tacoma in someways).

My ride from the airport never showed.  So me, being the impatient wench that I am, hailed a cab instead.  I checked into my room early and began to unpack.  Ran some errands and then used every ounce of strength I had not to fall asleep.  (ok, ok.  I may have had a two hour nap.  but that's it.)  Thank God for Timothy or I'd be waking up at 4am this morning on the wrong time zone.

So, in case I might be home sick for a bit of American culture, I now have Kentucky Fried Chicken, Urban Outfitters, Starbucks, Pizza Hut, H&M, and a variety of other pop culture things.  They were blasting Beyonce's new album on outside speakers and there's even a store called Americandy where they sell fruit loops, cocoa puffs, and Mug rootbeer etc.  Part of me was hoping I wouldnt be so surrounded by all that commercialism.  But as the day went on, I realize that I'm still very much a foreigner.  So no worries there.  Awkward times are sure to come.

They have weird stuff like Marmite.  At Pizza Hut, they have a special BBQ americana pizza that has, wait for it, sweet corn on it.  And I have to ask them to repeat everything at least twice.  The poor customs guy at the airport took twice as long with me.  It kind of went like this:

'Customs guy: "aoidsfjaer agoinjasvoiusd asoidjj?"
Me:  Whuh?
Customs guy:  "how loooong yu stayn?"
Me: a year.
Customs guy: "whut aspodifjag studay?"
Me: huh?
Customs guy:  "yu. studay. what?"
Me: Oh. acting.

and so on.

Everything is accessible and even a movie theater is within walking distance.  I still have to get the hang of the currency exchange and how much I'm really spending.  And it doesn't help that the money is something like out of the Monopoly game.  And damn is it heavy.  You could seriously injure if you chucked a 1pound coin at someone.  Not that I've been tempted. Yet.

I'm doing my best to go with the flow. Do what I need.  And realize that I'm really tired, so things are a bit wonky on purpose.  I find that as long as I focus on right now, there's no fear.  And from what I gather, that's exactly what I need to do in order to adapt to the "European Way" (whatever that means).  They give you a timeline...then they don't follow it.  The sky isn't the only area that is grey.  In the words of Captain Barbosa, "They're more like guidelines."  Which, friends, as many of you know, is NOT how I function.  Tell me how to do it, and it's done.  Give me a deadline, and it's met.  So this is either going to be very good for me, or it'll kill me.  Speaking of killing...
I must remember that they drive on the wrong (I mean left) side of the street.  And that this is NOT New York.  If you walk across the street when the little man is red, you will die.  And it will be YOUR fault.  Huh.  Who knew?

On a side note,  I'd really like to thank those friends who called/texted me the day before I left, and for David for writing me that email.  I hadn't realized how badly I needed to hear from you all.  And it made getting on that plane all the more easier. 

It's going to be fine.  It always is.

Thinking of you.