Papers and more mousecapades.

Lectures are over, and I'm in paper-writing mode.  The due dates are December 8, 13, and 15.  The skeleton of my December 8 paper is written and ready to be fleshed out as soon as the data is analyzed.  Tomorrow's project is to assemble the literature I'm going to use for the December 15 paper, and have an outline done no later than the end of the day Tuesday so I can send it to the tutor for comments before he goes off the grid on Friday.  The December 13 paper is really my lowest priority at the moment, because it's the shortest and worth the smallest percentage of my grade.  I touched on this a few entries ago, but it bears repeating:  My goal is to have everything done by the 11th or 12th, so I can go to Mull and Iona for a few days before flying back to the US on the 17th for Christmas.

I never thought I'd say this, but I really am ready to go home for a bit.  It's so dark (sunset today: 3:49pm), and so cold here right now.  The temperature has not actually gotten below freezing yet, but the cold here is very damp and cuts through everything.  On top of that, it's been very windy for the last several days.  It let up a bit today, but it's supposed to resume tomorrow and keep blowing until midweek at least.

And then there's the mice.  Oh, things got very very bad earlier this week with the mice.  I began the shittiest Thanksgiving of my young life in my Kazakh flatmate Madina's room, after sighting one under my wardrobe once again.  She had just finished telling me how mouse-proof her room is when I saw one come under her door.  We got it to leave again, but I didn't get a wink of sleep that night.  That afternoon, we went to the property management office and made our displeasure known in no uncertain terms.  I missed a pickup American football game with my classmates, helped Madina chase another mouse (or maybe it was the same one) out of her room with the hoover, and ultimately spent Thursday night in a hostel on the Royal Mile, because I could not bear the thought of going back to my flat.  The pest control guys came on Friday, their third visit in as many weeks.  They put down three different kinds of poison in every closet, under every cabinet, in the ceiling, and under some of the floorboards, and I'm daring to be hopeful.  But I don't know if I'll be able to make it to March 8, when my lease runs out and I can move elsewhere.  Another project for this week is getting some legal advice about that.

So on the whole, I'm pretty anxious for these three weeks to go by quickly, so I can spend some time in a place where there is sun and warmth and no mice. 

Cheers, y'all.

Sick.

Turns out I made the right decision to back out on the Killin trip, because I woke up this morning with a splitting headache and the inability to keep any food down.  Unfortunately, this also scuppered my plans to take the train to Stirling for the day.  I'll try again later this week, because I do need to get out of Edinburgh for a bit.

This is the last week of formal lectures!

Cheers, y'all.

Milestones.

Yesterday marked the longest I have ever been outside the US and away from my family: 90 days.  I'll be going back for Christmas in exactly four weeks, which feels unreal.

After a lot of agonizing, I backed out on the hillwalking trip to Killin.  I asked about the routes at the sign-up earlier this week, and each one looks to encompass two Munros in 6-8 hours, a timetable which MUST be adhered to because of the limited daylight hours this time of year.  (Incidentally, sunset in Edinburgh today: 3:59pm).  Considering that Ben Vane alone took me somewhere between eight and nine hours back in September, I am not at all confident in my abilities to summit two Munros in that amount of time.  And failure to meet that challenge would mean me, and probably several other people, getting stranded on a mountainside after dark in the southern highlands of Scotland in November.  They did say that if the weather was terrible, the walks would probably be shortened to one Munro each, or maybe even just a hike around Loch Tay; so I've been hoping for terrible weather all week, but tomorrow's forecast is light rain (par for the course in that part of the country, in other words).  I'm trying to repeat to myself that it's not chickening out, it's simply being aware of my capabilities and limits...but I'm still a bit disappointed not to be going.

In other news, I took a basic first-aid course today (through the hillwalking club, as it happens).  It covered the recovery position, CPR, abdominal thrusts, and a quick overview of what to do for shock, heat exhaustion, heat stroke, and hypothermia.  I remembered a lot of it from a course I took through the Red Cross when I was about 12, for babysitting purposes.

Oy.  About every month, I experience an overwhelming need to get the hell out of Edinburgh for a while.  The result of that last month was my trip to Tiree, and the month before that I was just getting back from a trip around the highlands and islands.  I was planning to climb Arthur's Seat tomorrow to make up for not going to Killin, but I think I might hop a train to Stirling instead...

Cheers, y'all.

Taking charge!

I lay awake for quite a while last night, worrying about the three papers I have due within the next month, and about my finances, which I have just plain not been keeping track of.  And in the last 24 hours, I have made some decisions:

I am going to have the stress paper and literature search paper done or nearly done by the end of this month, so that I'll have two full weeks to devote solely to the paper for my third class, which is the longest paper I have to write and which is worth 100% of my grade for that class (so I CANNOT SCREW IT UP).

If I somehow manage to finish all my papers with time to spare, then I'll take a quick trip to Mull, Iona, and Staffa before leaving for the States on December 17. That'll be my motivating carrot to finish my papers in good time.

Starting next Monday, I am going to withdraw 50 pounds from my bank account every Monday, and that will be my money to spend that week on groceries, going out, phone minutes, bus fare, and everything. Leftover money can be rolled over from week to week, but when it's gone, it's gone - I can't spend any more money until the following Monday. (This of course does not apply to my rent, which is paid by direct debit anyway.) If I can adhere to this, I'll be able to live on the funds currently at my disposal, without getting a job, until next summer.

And, GO!

Cheers, y'all.

Hypersomnia.

Sunset is creeping ever earlier (tonight: 4:07pm), and it's been cloudy the last few days.  Last night I felt like going to sleep at 8pm, and when I did go to sleep, I slept for almost 12 hours.  This happened to me when I visited Scotland back in January as well, when there were similar light conditions.

I've been diligently taking my vitamin D, so my mood is in pretty good shape for the moment, but I'm worried that my sleep cycle is going to get thrown seriously out of whack, just as I'm starting to write term papers.  I'm hoping I can keep the hypersomnia at bay if I put some sleep hygiene practices in place, so I'm going to start setting an alarm for 9am.  I haven't been setting alarms thus far because there's been no need - I have a 2pm class on Tuesdays, and that's my earliest commitment all week - but I think it'll be good to start doing so.

Cheers, y'all.

School and social update.

The exterminator came this morning, thank goodness, so hopefully the mouse nonsense is at an end for the time being.

The research methods exam was last Thursday, and I feel like I did pretty well.  The entire class, as well as most of the Strength and Conditioning class, went to Malone's afterward and had a huge one.  Talk about bonding exercises, and suddenly I have a social life again!  House party at an S&C guy's house tonight, and we psych folks are maybe going to make group dinners a weekly thing.  And I'm going on another hillwalking trip, this time to Killin, on the 20th, and there's a ceilidh for all the Moray House grad students on the 25th...my cup runneth over!

Cheers, y'all.

Mousecapades.

Oh God.  Ohgodohgodohgod.  I was sitting at my computer desk in my room at about 11:00 last night, wearing my baggy black tracksuit bottoms, when I felt *something* brush my toes.  I figured it was just my ipod USB cable which was hanging down off the desk, and ignored it.  A minute or two later, I felt something scratchy and pinchy at the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, on the left side.  I reached to itch it, but it wouldn't stop, and IT MOVED.  I stood up, and a mouse shot down my trouser leg and hid under the wardrobe.

NOT COOL.  NOT COOL AT ALL.

Oh, and where are my mousetraps?  In the wardrobe.  FML.

I slept on the sofa last night.  I'm back in my room now, and I don't know whether the little bugger is still here or not.  I just know that this is ridiculous.

Cheers, y'all.

Guy Fawkes Day

Remember, remember, the fifth of November!  My American friends and I observed this day in a tongue-in-cheek way in years past, but I found out tonight that it is srs bsns here.  And I kind of found that out by accident. 

I spent the afternoon in the library, starting to get things together for one of my term papers, then hung out around Holyrood for a bit.  The moon (a day or two past the first quarter) was rising behind Arthur's Seat and shining on the decorative pools in front of Parliament, and it was really pretty.  I started to make my way home, then realized it was only 6:30.  So on a whim, I decided to climb Calton Hill.  I had never been up Calton Hill before, though I've walked past it plenty of times.  It's a funny little hill, littered with outlandishly anachronistic monuments, including the National Monument (which thinks it's the Parthenon in Greece), the Dugald Stewart Monument (a Georgian rotunda), and the Governor's House (which looks like a castle tower and does not actually house a governor).  There's also a random obelisk and a great wee pillar with a cross on top...basically it's a hill with a severe identity crisis.  But anyway, several hundred other people in Edinburgh had the same idea as me, because I was in good company on my climb, and when I got to the top I found out why.

FIREWORKS.  EVERYWHERE.  There were at least eight displays going on simultaneously, all across the city and across the water in Fife.  There were also several people on the hill with sparklers, and a group releasing Chinese lanterns to float out over the city on the breeze.  But the real show everyone had come to see was the big fireworks display one of the stadiums was putting on, which was a letdown from where I was standing because there were trees in the way.  Oh yes, trees.  I think about 70% of the trees that exist in Edinburgh are on Calton Hill.  It was also clear enough to see stars, for quite possibly the first time since I moved here.  I saw the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and a planet or two.

Between the stars and the trees, I'd call this evening a success.

Cheers, y'all.

Marks.

I finally got my mark for my first paper.  I got a 54, which is a C.  This is chastening for a couple of different reasons.  First off, it's far too close to the pass/fail cutoff for my comfort.  I wasn't expecting a brilliant mark, but I was expecting to pass a bit more comfortably than I did.  Second, the comments I received were essentially the comments I would have given myself if I were grading myself very harshly.  This is comforting in the sense that there weren't any big surprises in the comments section...but also alarming, because I've realized that any areas for improvement that I think exist, the graders will think exist too.  For example, I waited longer than I should have to find an article to write about for this assignment, and ended up with one which...well, I wanted to throw it out and start over, but by then the due date was two days away, so I had to made it work as best I could and hoped for the best.  And the grader totally picked up on that.  So in the future, I really need to be at the top of my game, and if I think something needs fixing, FIX IT.  And leave enough time to fix it.  I am a terrible procrastinator, so this is going to be a challenge, but it's one I need to rise to.

Cheers, y'all.

August 31, 2011: The Isle of Skye

All photos are mine and from previous trips, except where noted.  Thanks to Andrea and Mila for kindly sharing their pics with me!

***

We left Plockton this morning, and headed to the nearby village of Stromeferry for a jaunt out on Loch Carron in a local fisherman's boat.  Neil the Fisherman fishes for shellfish and the occasional crab to sell locally.  Loch Carron is in fact a fjord, hence the salt-water critters.  In fact, up until earlier this year, there were two dolphins who lived in the loch near Stromeferry, and who would often come and swim with Neil's boat, but they've buggered off, much to my disappointment.  We rode around the loch and ate the scallops which Neil pulled out of the loch for us - some of them raw, some of them quickly fried up with butter and garlic.  He also pulled up an absolutely gorgeous blue lobster to show us, which he'd actually caught some time ago and couldn't decide what to do with.

After the boat ride, we drove a few miles down to the Kyle of Lochalsh and crossed the bridge over to the Isle of Skye.

Skye is absolutely full of folklore, and Danny told us the first of many stories here.  It concerns this tower, which can be seen after you drive off the bridge:

Once upon a time, a princess named Mary lived in this tower.  Mary lived alone, and passed the time by trying to get sailors going by on the Kyle of Lochalsh to stop and talk to her. None of them did. Having a lot of time on her hands, Mary strung a chain from her tower across to the mainland one day, and whenever a boat came, she winched up the chain and forced the sailors to pay a toll to get by. So the sailors had to stop and talk to her now, but they didn't like it. Mary soon found a way to make them like it: by collecting the tolls topless. After that, the newly christened Saucy Mary became the most popular woman on Skye. She's buried on top of a very tall mountain nearby:

Then we drove up to Sligachan, the gateway to the Cuillin Hills.  After dipping our faces in the faerie stream to make them eternally youthful, we walked a little way into the hills to hear the tale of Cúchulainn and Scáthach, which is my favorite story associated with Skye.  Scáthach was a giantess and a warrior woman who lived on the Isle of Skye. She protected the people of Skye, but harried them, too. Being the only giant around, she got lonely and bored, and when lonely and bored, got drunk and carried off the islanders' sheep and a hairy coos for dinner. Eventually the people of Skye got fed up with Scáthach and called over to Ireland for another giant, Cúchulainn, to come and kill her for them. Cúchulainn duly accepted and came to Skye, ostensibly to be trained in the martial arts by Scáthach. Train him she did, and the weeks and months passed. Eventually Cúchulainn had to make good on his agreement with the people of Skye. Walking with Scáthach one day, he fell slightly behind her and drew his sword. She turned and drew hers, and they fought for a week. After a week, Scáthach got distracted when some of the people on Skye, fearing that Cúchulainn might lose and that they would face Scáthach's wrath for bringing him here, led her horses and chariot to the edge of a cliff and tried to push them over. This distracted Scáthach just long enough for Cúchulainn to disarm and pin her, but then he looked into her eyes, and couldn't kill her. Scáthach in turn disarmed him and pinned him, demanding why he didn't kill her when he had the chance. Cúchulainn's response: "How could I destroy the one thing I have grown to love?" Cúchulainn and Scáthach lived quite happily for several months afterward, before Cúchulainn was called back to Ireland.

The Cuillin Hills:

The background image on this blog is also of the Cuillin Hills.

After lunch in Portree, the largest settlement on Skye, we drove up to the Trotternish Peninsula and the most amazing scenery on the island.  First up was the Old Man of Storr:

Photo by Mila Tikhonova

 

 

The story behind this odd rock formation is this:  Once upon a time, a human man rescued a brownie (pronounced "broo-nee," kind of the Scottish equivalent of a leprechaun) from under a pile of rocks. The brownie was so grateful to the man, that he spent the next couple of years showing up every few months and helping the man around his farm and whatnot, and even played at his wedding. After the wedding, the brownie had to leave for the faerie world for a few years. When he got back, he found that his human friend's wife had died a few months after the wedding, and the human friend himself died of a broken heart shortly after that. To memorialize his friend, the brownie decided to carve a statue of him looking out over his lands, with his wife sitting nearby, into the cliff. Brownies are long-lived, but they aren't immortal, and he only got so far before dying himself. The Old Man of Storr is the result. Of course, then the Vikings came along and went, "Hee hee, it looks like a boner." There's a stream that flows not too far away from the Old Man of Storr, and drinking from this stream is supposed to increase your libido.

Unfortunately, no one could pay much attention to this story at the time, because we were too busy swatting away midges.  You wouldn't think the little black specks would be too bothersome, but if you stand still for too long and they're able to accumulate around you, HOO BOY.

We stopped briefly at Kilt Rock, where there is an awesome waterfall, and occasionally mermaids...

...and finally wended our way up to the Quiraing.  We ended the day by hiking up through the Quiraing, which I had never done before, and which was GORGEOUS.  It had been kind of hazy all day, and the sun finally came out while we walked.

Photo by Andrea Henkel

I'm the one at the front, blinking:

Photo by Andrea Henkel

Behold, the heather!  It was absolutely everywhere on this trip.  Also, some scale for the landscape:

Photo by Mila Tikhonova

The sun came out as we passed this wee loch:

Photo by Mila Tikhonova

In all, it was about a 2-2.5 mile walk.  I was one of the people who chose the wrong fork and had to backtrack.  You can see it two photos up - we're the ones significantly higher up on the hillside than everyone else.  Whoops. 

After everyone finally arrived at the bus, we drove to our home for the evening in Flodigarry.  We had haggis, neeps, and tatties for dinner, and then the South Africans, Andrea, Laura, and I sat up late and drank an entire bottle of Glenlivet whisky.

Cheers, y'all.

Busybusybusy

My life is about to get incredibly busy.  It's November now, which means we're quickly closing in on the end of the term. 

Tomorrow: Marks for the first assignment are supposed to be posted.  So after tomorrow, I'll have some benchmark for how severely I need to get myself in gear!  The prof said there were no fails, so that's comforting at least.  Also tomorrow, I'm going to Glasgow to see My Morning Jacket, and more importantly their sound engineer, my cousin Ryan.
Thursday: Research Methods final exam!  I've been doing a lot of studying, mostly against my will, because it's what the conversation inevitably turns to whenever a lot of my classmates and I are together.  But I really shouldn't be complaining, but because I'm feeling pretty well-prepared for it as a result.  Tomorrow I'll re-read the assigned papers, and then I should be set.
Friday: Meeting with my Stress and Coping group to discuss the final project for that class, which we just got briefed on tonight.  Basically it's a similar setup to the final project in my undergrad research methods class - do some original research and write up a formal APA-style paper about it - but instead of having the better part of a semester to do it, we have five and a half weeks. 
Saturday: Be unashamedly lazy.
Sunday: See Saturday.  Also, back to Glasgow for the TORI AMOS CONCERT!!!
Next week: Start assembling the literature for my final paper for Planning, and also get cracking on the Stress project.

Tomorrow, I swear I will write more about my adventures from two months ago.

Cheers, y'all.