Sproooots

The coffee was really starting to hit me. I could feel that wave inside, undulating up from my abdomen into my brain coalescing into a shiver that makes your whole body shake. Your mouth gets dry and all you want is water, or maybe another sip of coffee because, *ahem*, if you were to take the coffee mug to your lips and drink some of it, maybe just a small sip, you’ll feel better. And then you do. And then you feel better until the next shake and the cycle repeats itself. All for want of concentration.

I like cafes. I like coffee. I like that there are people that also like cafes and coffee and sitting down in comfy sofas eating sandwiches that aren’t actually filling and drinking coffee (I’m sorry, we only serve espresso here, you can get the drip coffee a few miles outside the city) that by all accounts is routinely delicious.

I like cappuccinos. There is something about the mixture of foam to steam to strong espresso that I enjoy. Maybe it’s because I haven’t really given lattes a shot. Maybe it’s because cappuccino rolls off the tongue a bit better than latte. Maybe it’s because I accidentally ordered a cappuccino when I was 10 thinking it a fancy sugary drink from Second Cup and winding up with a foam moustache, a burnt oesophagus, and a memory that lingers on in the brain, insouciant, until the moment (often around 10, usually around 2, sometimes around 5) where it makes itself known. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to ask what a cortado or macchiato or flat white or London fog is in fear of the possibility that someone else will wear the coffee-crown.

Maybe I just like what I like.

I wish I could enjoy and concentrate on a book while walking. Today, I sat for too long and my ass-bones are feeling it. I didn’t change positions enough, or maybe it was because there’s a particular button on my jeans that can really get up in there and raise a ruckus—especially if you have 700 pages to read for tomorrow’s class and you just got the reading list 2 days ago. No wait, you got it yesterday because you couldn’t see the list until you were fully enrolled which meant I had to obtain my student card which I could finally achieve because, hey, I’m here now. James McBride. Student of Stirling University. The man who gave me the card was a very bald and very Scottish man who appreciated that I had too many documents to give him. We talked about jet lag and Canada and America and Scotland and the letter M. In any case it was a nice interaction.

Of course, 700 pages is a lot to read in one day (Monday doesn’t count because it was Induction/informal meeting Pub day with everyone in the program and the professors and NO ONE was reading that day) and kind of impossible. It’s all going to be about prioritization here: what to read first, what to buy first when I’m here, when should I finally get my SIM card, when to explore the city, when to finally check out the sports facilities, when to make a nice, sit-down meal with more than 3 ingredients, when to go out at night, when to start working on that lovely, lovely dissertation?

I’m still getting used to it. There are so many different things here; so many different brands and weather patterns and types of food and ways of life. Exceptional fries though, and the people are quite nice.

A lot of it has been unexpected: the lack of class time, the weekly morning construction happening 25 ft outside my window, the difference in culture and language. I’d never expected it to become Home after one week. Perhaps I was overly optimistic. In any case, making nice meals that remind me of the past dinners we had together and the future memories we’ll share is a good way to keep the mind in an alright spot.

Next week is the club/sport societies ‘give-it-a-go’ week where you get to try out specific clubs and what not and see what you like before you register as a member. This was something I regret never doing in my undergrad so I’m pretty prepared to actually involve myself in my university. There’s a History, Film, Lord of the Rings, and International society that I’m thinking of joining and for sports I’d like to try out Squash, Curling, and maybe Quidditch (who am I kidding, I loved playing Quidditch in my Undergrad so probably Quidditch. I just want to fly around on a broom chasing after a guy dressed up in yellow and gold with a ball dangling off his pants while you try not to get tackled or hit by a ball ya know).

Also Campus is gorgeous—the scenery anyway. The halls themselves are a bit white and sparse; you half expect to see someone wearing scrubs rushing down the ways with a gurney.

Here are some pictures.