[A Karaoke Supernova]

The Ghosts of New Year's Eves Past

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 16:12:00 +0000

It seems appropriate to offer one's introspective ponderings upon the final day of the year. The year 2009, for me, began in Scotland, but is ending back home in Austin, TX. 2009 was an exciting year, to be sure, but was not by any means an easy year, at least for me. Kellie and I traveled the world, visiting Paris and Florence and taking in the culture of Edinburgh, but it was also a year of tremendous set backs and frustrations. This year required me, for the first time in a long time, to completely reevaluate my career path and to find a suitable Plan B when my PhD apps fell through. Moving back to the States in August was, of course, a joyful homecoming after a year spent abroad in Scotland, but moving back and attempting to find work during the deepest economic recession of my lifetime took some of the wind out of my sails. Still other annoyances, such as dealing with the British government and such, have slowly but surely chipped away at my optimism and positive attitude, to the point that here, at the end of 2009, I am quite ready for this year to be over. And that's precisely the good thing about New Year's: the previous year, the good and the bad, can be set aside. The previous chapter can be closed and a new one begun. That's truly a freeing feeling on this, the final day of such a long and interesting year.

On another note, I find it curious this morning to consider all the other strange and interesting places I have found myself on this day. 10 years ago, for instance, in 1999, I was in Hyde Park, in London, when three nines turned into three zeroes and the world didn't come crashing down around us. The next day, I marched through the streets of London, trombone in hand, playing "The Yellow Rose of Texas" as Londoners sang along. Quite surreal. In 2004, I hosted my first New Year's Eve get together at my college house in Sherman (since razed to the ground), dubbed "Isengard," and rang in the new year with friends. Two years ago, in 2007, New Year's Eve was the night before my long, strange trip to Indonesia, where I met monkeys and spent a night, all alone, at a stranger's house in the middle of the Balinese jungle. Then, of course, last year Kellie and I attended the 2008 Hogmany festivities on the streets of Edinburgh. Princes Street was packed to the gills with revelers, who joined together at midnight to sing "Auld Lang Syne," in something less than perfect unison.

Perhaps the moral of the story is that even if one finds oneself at the end of a less than banner year, there is comfort in the fact that one never knows where one will end up next. New adventures always lie on the horizon, so long as one remains open to those adventures. And as the year 2009 fades into a distant memory, I know all those sources of frustration will fade, as well, until I am left with only a fond reminiscence of things past as I trudge, ever forward, into 2010, and thankfully, can finally cease the annoying habit of prefacing the year number with "two-thousand-and." Seriously. That got old in about two-thousand-and-two. Welcome, twenty-ten, welcome.

Concession Speech

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 00:20:00 +0000

I give up, 2009. You win. I don't know what you were trying to prove, but for whatever it's worth I concede.

Out of Exile

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 19:52:00 +0000

Wow, I haven't written in over a month. Definitely my longest blog-gap in recent memory, but to be fair, I have had absolutely nothing to say. Aside from getting readjusted to life in Austin, my last three months have actually been rather dull. Most days have consisted of riding 10 or so miles on the bike, looking for jobs online, and watching hour after unbearable hour of daytime television. Such is unemployment, I suppose.

It's really quite a depressing state, this unemployment. There's a combination of factors that really serve to get you down. It's not just the constant rejection (or worse, non-response) from various potential employers. Rather, it's the void of having nothing on your calendar, nowhere to be during the day and nothing really to plan for or even plan around. It's maddening. The experience has given me infinitely more empathy for those who are in an even worse position than us in this economic morass.

In any case, the three-month exile that is unemployment is now at an end. Kellie will be starting work in two week and I will be starting just after we get back from Thanksgiving. This will be an interesting transition, I expect. On the one hand, I am incredibly excited that I will have something to do, a way to use my talents and contribute to the projects of an office. On the other, this will of course be my first full time job, which is no doubt a change from full time school. Moreover, because of the nature of my program in Edinburgh, I haven't actually had a daytime schedule since early March of this year - it has actually been eight months since I have had any kind of schedule at all. So, things will be very different. But, in a good way, I think. I suspect that it will be much easier to make full use of my free time when it becomes a more scarce commodity.

My Theme Song

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 16:50:00 +0000

My theme song of late has been "Waiting for My Real Life to Begin" by Colin Hay:

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
I'll stand on the bow, feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down down down, on me

And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in
But don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

When I awoke today, suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams, I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path, up this cobbled lane
I'm walking in my old footsteps, once again

And you say, just be here now
Forget about the past, your mask is wearing thin
Just let me throw one more dice
I know that I can win
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
And I'll check my machine, there's sure to be that call
It's gonna happen soon, soon, oh so very soon
It's just that times are lean

And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart, let the light shine
Don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

On a clear day I can see, see for a long way
On a clear day I can see, see for a long way.

Job Applications and the End of Common Courtesy

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 17:07:00 +0000

I have spent much of my time over the last six weeks or so updating my resume, composing cover letters, and filling out job applications. As this is my first foray into the job application process following my seemingly endless years of higher education, I have been struck by the dehumanizing quality of the job application process (in fact, of almost any application process). The gap between what the job search really is and what companies have turned it into is shocking. You are told, in no uncertain terms, "Don't call, don't write, don't email, don't visit us in person, just fill out the application, don't inquire about it's status, just wait and we may or may not ever get back to you." You want to make a personal connection, to be something more than a set of keywords and numbers, but the job application process at nearly every job discourages this. We would rather simplify the process and make it more efficient than actually get to know people. What ever happened to common courtesy, for instance, when one spends a great deal of time applying for a job, never hears back, sends a follow-up note, and then doesn't hear back from that, either? Are we really okay with a world that works like this, in which we are so bound by bureaucracy that we can't even communicate on a human level? Is that professionalism?

A Few Words on the ACL Festival

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 17:13:00 +0000

Highlight of ACL: Watching the Decemberists perform their album, "The Hazards of Love," in its entirety. I don't know how many times I have listened to this album by now, but it never gets old. The live performance was outstanding and added a new level of depth to the experience. Becky Stark was very charming playing the part of Margaret, with her Renaissance-style dress and quirky dancing, but I thought the real show-stealer was Shara Worden as the Forest Queen. Her vocals, especially in "The Queen's Rebuke/The Crossing" blew me away. The "Rake's Song," of course, was a highlight and got the crowd excited, but it was interesting to see the number of people who didn't figure out that the Decemberists were performing an entire concept album and got bored after "Won't Want for Love." Quitters. The only bad part was that the Decemberists had only one hour for their set, so they had time to perform Hazards, but nothing else. Nevertheless, its was nothing short of a magical performance, even in the pouring rain, and definitely ranks among my top concert experiences.

Lowlight of ACL: The mud pit. The City of Austin spent a couple million dollars planting beautiful new grass in Zilker Park. While it lasted, it really was a lovely addition to the park and made the festival that much more pleasant. That grass, however, is gone. The rain and 60,000+ crowd turned all that young grass into a mud pit. By the time DMB went on, the area around the main stage had gone from soggy to muddy and slick. Yuck.

Incompetence

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 21:51:00 +0000

Call me cynical, but I am continually astounded by the complete and utter incompetence of some people. Three recent examples:

(1) I logged into my University of Edinburgh account to see if my final grade was up. It was not, but I did discover an anomalous and befuddling charge on my account, which should be closed (since I am finished with school) for about 36 pounds for accommodations charges for the 2009-2010 school year. (A) I am not enrolled for that school year. (B) I do not have university accommodations for that school year.

(2) We got a call today from AT&T, threatening to charge us a late fee if we didn't pay our cell phone bill. But, we protested, we never received said bill. Turns out when we signed up for our new account a month ago, they took down the wrong address. Like, not wrong as in a transposed set of numbers, but wrong as in the wrong numbers, the wrong street, the wrong city. Where they got this address from, I have no idea. We narrowly avoided a late fee.

(3) This one is my favorite. We had to sign up for renter's insurance for our new apartment. This was accomplished over the phone in an excruciatingly long phone call. The crucial part of renter's insurance, it seems to me, is the actual address of the rental property being insured. I gave this to the guy. But, somehow, instead of our real address, I discover on our first statement that he has taken down the following: "3524 Greystpme Dr., Austim, TX." Now, two things. "Greystpme" is simply not a word. I couldn't have even pronounced this to him over the phone. And, second, this insurance agent is based in Austin, and surely knows that there is no such place as "Austim." Seriously. I called shortly after receiving this communique to correct the information, thinking that it might be important for the address I had paid to insure to be the one where I actually lived. The guy acted put out by this, but said it would be corrected. I just got a form showing the corrected address. My new address? "3524 Greyst0ne Dr." Wow.

Notes from Austin

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 20:30:00 +0000

Almost exactly one year after we packed up our stuff, headed to Dallas, and took a plane to Scotland, Kellie and I rolled back into Austin. As much as has happened over the last year, it was funny how much things seemed about the same as when we left. We went to the storage unit, for instance, and found everything (more or less) exactly has we had left it, as if it had just been packed away a few days before. We met up with friends, and likewise, we found ourselves picking up right where we had left off.

I guess it's strange coming back home after an experience that is so totally removed from the rest of your life. You live in Texas your whole life, then pick up and move to Scotland, and then return to Texas. You find yourself asking, "Did I really just spend a year in Edinburgh? Was that just a dream?" And so, while I feel different, to be sure, than I did when I left, in other ways it seems like I never left at all, that the whole Scotland experience was some crazy foreign time warp. I guess what I am trying to say is that it is difficult to integrate parts of one's life that are so totally different.

Then again, it is comforting to be back in a place that I know well. It's good to know where things are and have some ideas for places to go out to eat. Things like that. It's very good to be back in Austin. But, in many ways, I still feel trapped in some kind of odd limbo time warp phenomenon, because as I have mentioned, I am still unemployed and between careers. Not only am I transitioning back to life in the States, but moving from academia to the working world, and moreover, trying to rethink my career aspirations/expectations simultaneously. It's a somewhat mind-boggling experience, to be quite honest. And it's in the midst of all that confusion and soul-searching that I am glad to be back in this place.

The Return

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 16:11:00 +0000

Our year in Edinburgh ended on Thursday morning with the daunting task of carrying our eight bags the mile or so from our flat to the airport shuttle at 4:20 in the morning (local time, of course). Several in flight movies and nearly 24 hours later, we were going to sleep at my dad's house in Dallas. Funny how such dramatic changes in scenery tend to happen so very quickly. It's actually rather depressing to fly into DFW, with its lack of trees and ugly concrete and warehouses. But, it is good to be back in Texas, even if the morning low is 10 degrees higher than the afternoon high in Scotland. That's okay.

Now that all the excitement of first arriving has worn off, though, I find myself in this odd sort of limbo. For the first time that I can remember, I don't actually have an address. We're between apartments, between jobs - between lives, really. It is of course a welcome break, and it is nice to relax for a bit after spending weeks trying to wrap things up in Edinburgh and worrying about various travel arrangements. It is nice to have some peace. Nevertheless, it's always odd to end up in one of these in-between stages of life.

In any case, though, it's good to see folks. And it's good to eat barbecue and Mexican food. And Texas is really, really hot. That is all.

A Dream

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 10:20:00 +0000

I had this dream the other night that involved going on a Chi Tau Chi retreat. It was cool, except everyone had made their own separate plans during the day. So, Robert and I decided to drive around the Texas hill country, looking for a barbecue restaurant. This went well until we ran into hordes of pedestrians in the road. Then I woke up. This dream told me three important things:

(1) I really want to eat barbecue. Seriously.

(2) I am fed up with the hordes of pedestrians who are here for the festival that clog the sidewalks and make it impossible to get anywhere.

(3) I still know how to drive on the right side of the road. This is crucial. I have been riding my bike on the left side of the road for the last several months and it has become like second nature to me. I have worried that I would be confused when I first got into a car in the States, since I haven't driven in a year. But, in my dream, I was driving on the correct side of the road and the driver's seat was on the correct side of the car. This is good news for me and for other Texas drivers, methinks.

Irony

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 08:06:00 +0000

Submitted for your laugher and/or sympathy. So, I finished my dissertation a couple of days ago. School, in essence, was out for the summer. Naturally, our internet decided to go out the next day. Also, of course, both our mobiles decided to run out of minutes on that same day, preventing me from completing my call with tech support. So, three days after finishing my research, where do I find myself in order to check my email? The library. Again. Lovely.

My Last Day of School

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 08:58:00 +0000

When you are in school, life seems to be a constant set of transitions, little milestones, and markers along the journey. There are a lot of first days and a lot of last days, a lot of beginnings and a lot of endings. And while these beginnings and endings mark out definite little bits of our lives and help us move on to the next year of school, they don't really change anything. On the next first day, after all, I am still the same student that I am on the last day. And so, all these first days and last days are kind of like running around a track. There is transition, yes, but you stay in the same game, and so there never really is anything like a definitive beginning or a definitive ending.

Anyway, I've been thinking lately about these beginnings and endings, about one's entry to and exit from the whole school endeavor. I don't really remember my first day of school, way back in 1988. But now that journey that started 21 years ago, all the way at Eanes Elementary in Austin, Texas, has now come to an end here in Edinburgh, Scotland. In a way, my last day of school was just as unremarkable as my first. I've been doing a research program, so I haven't actually had a class in months. In fact, I realized yesterday that it had been nearly a month since I had even walked inside the main building of my school. Much of my summer has been spent toiling alone, in he obscurity of either the library or my own flat, worrying over words and phrases and trying to make my dissertation make some sort of sense. And so, after all that solo work and lack of contact with the actual school, it was rather anticlimactic when I walked up the stairs of New College yesterday for my final meeting with my dissertation supervisor, only to be told that my work was more or less fine and that I could submit it when I wished. The meeting, the final meeting of my academic career (unless I decide to go back for more punishment), took all of 35 minutes.

35 minutes, and then that was it. For all intents and purposes, my last day of school. But this time, there isn't a first day of school waiting for me on the other side of the summer. The endless cycle of academic beginnings and endings has itself come to an end, and for the time being, that anticlimactic 35 minute last day of school seems to be the definitive last day of school. And thus, I have come to an ending that is truly an ending, that will truly lead to something different. I don't really know how to feel about that. There is great comfort in the continuous cycle of school years, of last days that lead inevitably to first days. Now that I have reached this particular end, I have no idea what the next "first day" will be.

Scolded

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 11:30:00 +0000

I totally just got scolded by an old man. I was pulling up to a stop light on my bike and the little old man, a cane in each hand, was slowly crossing the street. I guess he thought I wasn't going to stop for him, so he turns, makes eye contact with me, and with a sort of scowl on his face, mutters something that I can't hear and shakes one of his canes at me. I was so befuddled and amused I almost forgot to go when the light turned green. That is all.

Two thoughts. (1) Wow, I can't believe I've made it this long in life without being having a fist shaken at me by an old person. (2) I kind of can't wait until I can get away with doing this, too.

Directions

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 15:38:00 +0000

I have noticed that, over the past year, I have been stopped on the street and asked for directions an inordinate amount of times. It has gotten to the point that it is something of a joke between Kellie and I. On a given weekend, the chances are pretty high that some random person on the streets of Edinburgh will ask me how to get somewhere. This isn't even limited to Edinburgh. While on vacations in Italy and France, I was also asked for directions. The funny thing is, I am almost always able to direct them where they need to go. So, while I am always glad to do a good deed and help someone out, I must nevertheless ask why. Am I the sort of guy who always looks like he knows where he's going? Is there a map printed on the back of my jacket that I don't know about? I don't understand why I am the go-to guy for directions in this universe.

Movie Etiquette

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 09:07:00 +0000

In the UK, there's this great deal called Orange Wednesdays. Basically, if you have a mobile account with Orange, you can get two for one movie tickets every Wednesday. Pretty cool. Because of this deal, and because the new Harry Potter movie comes out on a Wednesday here in the UK, I decided to wait until Wednesday to buy our tickets. Ergo, most of the good showing sold out ahead of time. Ergo, I went to the movie theatre first thing Wednesday morning to get our tickets.

So, here's the question. In addition to the people buying tickets for later shows, there were also some people headed in to the 9am show. Many of them were getting popcorn to take into the movie. At 9am. Is this acceptable? If not, what is the proper morning movie snack?

National Healthcare is not like the DPS

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 18:57:00 +0000

A rant:

I am getting so tired of hearing the following line: "Do you like waiting in line at the DPS? 'Cause Obama's healthcare plan is going to be just like that."

Granted, the DPS sucks. We all know this. However, two things remain clear to me.

(1) Most people who make this statement have probably not lived in a country with nationalized healthcare. If you have, and see the DPS as a valid analog, then by all means, you're entitled to your opinion. If, like most people, you have not, then you simply have no basis for comparison. I can say that in my experience in the UK system, nationalized healthcare bears little resemblance to the DPS.

(2) People are quick to make the leap from "DPS is inefficient" to "government programs are inefficient." This just doesn't follow. I don't hear people who complain about nationalized healthcare complaining about other national programs from which they benefit, such as interstate highways and an army. Or how about national parks. Or free public schooling for children. Yeah. We've got it pretty bad, huh?

Granted, any program that can be done can be done poorly. But, that doesn't mean that it is necessarily the case, and unless you know what you are talking about and really don't care for all of the other fine government programs from which you draw benefits, then I suggest engaging in more thoughtful discourse on the subject. End rant.

Going off the Calendar

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 13:52:00 +0000

I mentioned earlier that I just bought tickets for our trip back to the States. It occurred to me shortly thereafter that, at least for me, this move will be somewhat unique. Every other transition in my life has revolved around a calendar - the school calendar. The years have been neatly divided into semesters since I was five years old, and as such, my various moves have usually been designed to have me where I need to be by the first day of school. But now, there is no first day of school awaiting me on the other side of this move. No orientation, no first semester. When I board the plane bound for America, I will essentially be going off the school calendar for the first time in my adult life. I thus finding it interesting that I will not only be moving into another country, but into a new kind of time. I am curious to find out what this will be like.

Setting a Date

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 09:54:00 +0000

Almost a year ago, I wrote about how buying the plane tickets to fly to Edinburgh made the whole experience finally real. We were really doing this, really moving overseas and starting a whole new adventure. Now, here it is, July of 2009. Seems like we've been over here for years rather than months. Edinburgh has changed from a foreign city into a place that we can call home. But today, after much dawdling, I finally bought the plane tickets for our flight back to the States. We have a date: August 27. A date for the beginning of another adventure. Once again, it's real.

The Fourth of July

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 13:37:00 +0000

In my (admittedly limited) experience as an American living abroad, there are two days that really make you feel homesick for the States. Those are, of course, Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July. I've got to admit, Thanksgiving required a fair amount of improvisation. We don't really have anything as good as an oven and have to get by with a combination microwave/convection oven, which only sometimes works. The device is a bit on the smallish side, so turkey was definitely out. We ended up cooking a roast chicken, which was fine, but it was still sad to miss out on the Macy's parade and all the other goodness associated with Thanksgiving.

Then there's the Fourth. They do actually have the Fourth of July in Britain (it would be awkward to skip straight from the Third to the Fifth). Sadly, it is not marked with either barbecues or fireworks. Which makes sense, I guess. I can see how the British might not want to celebrate the rebellion of their former colony. In any case, it's odd to celebrate American independence when you are in the country from which America declared independence. And, as Kellie remarked to me earlier today, the Fourth is really quite a good holiday: after all, there are no cards or presents to buy, no elaborate dinners to cook, just burgers and blowing stuff up.

So, it feels odd to be in the wrong country today. But, I guess it helps one to appreciate the meaning of the holidays we sometimes so mindlessly observe.

(The good news is that Rachel Baumann is actually randomly in town today, so we will be celebrating with a fellow American. Huzzah!)

Heat Wave II

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 22:18:00 +0000

Today, the heat wave migrated north and reached Scotland. It got up to 86 degrees, which is apparently hotter than it has been in at least three years. I believe I actually broke a sweat while biking, which is quite out of the ordinary. While no one dropped dead (that I know of), I've gotta say: 86 degrees is considerably less pleasant when your flat is equipped with neither an air conditioner nor a fan.

Heat Wave

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 15:48:00 +0000

Along the lines of the previous post, here's another bit of weather fun. It has been widely reported by the BBC that there is a heat wave going on in England (though, perhaps not in Scotland, depending on your definition of "heat"). The UK actually has an alert system in place for heat waves. This is true. At the beginning of summer, the alert level is automatically level one, which means that we ought to be on alert, I guess, for the possibility of heat, in wave form, no doubt. The system kicks into high gear when the temperature rises above the unbearable level of 30 degrees Celsius, a sweltering 86 degrees Fahrenheit. This, over here, is considered really, really hot. So hot that hospitals are prepared to receive an increased number of heatstroke victims. And again, this is true, the alert system came about because the last heat wave in Britain, with temperatures over 86 degrees, claimed hundreds of lives.

Now, I certainly don't want to make light of deaths by heatstroke, which is a big problem even in the States. However, it seems crazy to me that whilst the English are actually dying from their 86-degree heat wave, it is currently (1) cool and rainy here in Scotland and (2) over 100 degrees back in Texas. I don't know quite what to make of that.

Extremes

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 07:24:00 +0000

Meteorologically, the weather in Scotland is rather mild. The temperature in the winter rarely dips below 32 degrees Fahrenheit and in the summer rarely goes above 70. Despite the relatively high latitude, it doesn't snow much, nor is there much hail or even thunderstorm activity to contend with.

This may be true on paper. Nevertheless, I find Scottish weather (or at least Edinburgh weather) to be a study in extremes. It is either so stunningly beautiful that it seems that the heavens are smiling down on our fair city, or else it is so depressing that you just want to close the curtains and crawl back into bed. Sadly, I fear that our fair city is drifting toward the latter extreme. A few weeks ago, we had a brief summertime here. It was glorious and it lasted approximately one week. The temperatures were high, the sun was out, there was little wind, and people of all ages were laying out on blankets in the park as if it was the beach. But then the rain returned. And, a dew days ago, an ominous haar drifted in from the North Sea (I've spoken of the haar on here before, right?). Each afternoon, the sun gets warm and it gets close to burning it off, but the fog is thick and insidious, and tends to roll back in during the early evening, blanketing everything. In terms of weather phenomena, there's really nothing much worse than a fog, as it takes away everything: not only the sun, but the sea, the hills, even the buildings down the street.

Such a tumultuous place for such a 'mild' climate. I'm hoping summer returns before the end of the summer.

Unrequested Aid

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 07:23:00 +0000

I was sitting on the edge of the bed the other evening when Kellie asked, somewhat quizzically, "Did you hurt yourself?" This seemed an odd question to me, as in fact, I had not hurt myself, at least not to my knowledge. No, I replied. She then pointed to my lower right calf where, sure enough, there was a band aid affixed to my leg. How could this be, I thought, as I had not injured myself and surely had not applied a bandage. As Kellie looked on, I removed the band aid and examined it, finding that it had indeed been in use for awhile. But, examining the skin beneath the bandage, there was no evidence of a wound, either past or present. Something odd was afoot.

It took me a few moments to realize what happened, but suffice it to say, I was not pleased. The previous evening, Kellie had a scratch on her leg and put on two band aids some time before bed. Apparently, in the night, one of them had peeled off of her and gotten stuck to my leg instead. And, indeed, had been there for the entire day without me noticing. The ENTIRE day. Not only is it bizarre for a band aid to be nocturnally transfered from wife to husband, but to go unnoticed by either party for hours on end? I was somewhat horrified at this, but Kellie of course thought it hilarious, and laughed at me until she started crying. Good times.

Sandwich

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 14:23:00 +0000

I'm sitting here at at Starbucks near the Meadows, trying to get some work done on my very, very evil dissertation, when I notice that the list of available wi-fi networks includes one called 'thundercloud.' This, of course, makes me really, really want a Thundercloud sub. An Austin Club, perhaps. Sadly, I do not think their franchise extends to Scotland.

Accordion

bcdees@gmail.com (BCDees) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 12:08:00 +0000

Aside from the freshers upstairs who used to keep us up until all hours of the night with their incessant partying, I don't really know much about my neighbors. Everyone on our hall seems to keep to themselves, and we run into one another in the hall on surprisingly few occasions. Although the ceilings are apparently rather thin, the walls are rather thick, so there's not much one can really hear of one's neighbors' activities unless one ventures out into the hallway. That said, over the past months I have been able to discern a distinctive musical sound coming from the flat next door.

That sound, my friends, is that of the accordion. The girl next door has apparently been teaching herself to play, starting with very simple exercises and lately moving on to more complex tunes. And do you know what? I think she's gotten rather good at it.