Hahahahahahahahahhaahhaa!
The very best of dorky tiny dance moves. :D

Yes, this has nothing to do with anything! I'll explain later.

''these hands built America!'

I think the best way to describe how I feel about Monday's Celtic Lit exam is 'uuuuuuuuuugggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh...'
Not good. Not too good at all. I'm sure I passed, but I definitely should have put in more legitimate study time, as opposed to all those hours of pretending to study and gazing wistfully out the window instead. But ahhhh, it's just so darn difficult to focus these days...Too many other things are calling to me. Things like departing friends and their respective 'last hurrahs.'

Monday was Eric's last night in Scotland, so we all went out to the Crags and some squeekyclean New Town club bearing the insipid name of 'Lulu.' Nontheless, we had a merry time indeed and a proper send off to Eric.

OH, AND I FULFILLED A LIFELONG DREAM!
Well...a semester-long dream. You see, I have this friend Ollie, who is possibly the most English looking/sounding English lad I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. The moment I heard the guy speak, I knew that there was one thing I NEEDED to experience in life and that night I finally made it happen.
"Ollie," I began, "...Ollie there is something I must to hear you say before I die."
Ollie gets a suspicious grin on his face, 'Oh?'
"Yes. 'Please sir, I want some more.' "
He burst out laughing and grumbled a little ('Just because I'm English and my name is Oliver...blah blah blah"), but HE SAID IT and it was UTTER PERFECTION. He delivered the line in such a pathetic, little-boy voice too, the accent was spot on and...Gah I'm so weird. And such a nerd, but at least my Dickensian fantasy was achieved. Oh Ollie. Such a good sport. My life is complete. :D

Last night was jolly good as well. Matt, Meredith and I started off at Bierex, where we met up with the Turner boys. Stayed for a few pints, then went to Caberet Voltaire. Most of them took a cab, but a few of us decided they were pansies and hoofed it there. Walking halfway accross Edinburgh with drunken Irishmen is never dull. These particular dudes have an affinity for traffic cones, I discovered with great amusement.

We got there and I promptly lost all but one friend in the fray, so he and I just chilled by ourselves for most of the night. We had a lengthy discussion about the history of Northern Ireland and he taught me a very useful new Gaelic phrase. I have no idea how to spell it, but it means 'the craic was mighty' or to further translate, in American it means that something was a whole lotta fun. Anyway, he's coming to the states (Boston, Philly and NYC, I think) for a few weeks vacation over the summer. I tried to enlighten him to the fact that American girls have a thing for European accents of any kind, and that as soon as he steps off the plane and says two words, girls will start shedding their clothing. He remains optimistically skeptical, but I'm telling you, the silly boy won't know what hit him. Us poor Americans and our mundane accents...we definitely got ripped off in that department.

I learned many things last night, actually. I was informed that when one trips over nothing in particular and gets a great big scrape on one's knee (still hurts, by the way), one must not refer to the wound as a 'gash' when in the UK. Good to know. Same with the word 'gimp.' In America I've only ever known it to mean a cripple, but not so over here. NOT SO. Oh these dirty minded Brits...

Today I've just been studying. Proper studying this time, but not nearly enough. I need to crack down hard tonight and tomorrow morning, becaaaaause.....*drumroll*....
ELISHA'S COMING TOMORROW AFTERNOON AND WE SHALL HAVE SUPERHAPPYFUNTIMES!

That's why I need to study.
Really.
Really really really.