Birthday fun!
Thursday, October 25th, 2007
Birthday Cheesecake!
Yummy!
23 years now… and what do I have to show for it beyond happy memories, a few motorbike scars and a deep desire for cheesecake?
Its been a long and tiring journey, but I’ve finally arrived in a place that feels like home (or at least a home away from home), not only for the familiar food (although deep-fried pizza is well off my ‘familiar’ radar), toilet paper and road-rules but for the people who made my birthday such a special day.
I’m in Edinburgh, living in a homely fourth floor flat (4 flights of stairs, at least once a day… excellent justification for mass consumption of chocolate) not far from the centre of town and overlooking both the meadows (a huge public park) and gorgeous Arthur’s Seat. The original. No bodgy chairlift here.
I arrived in Edinburgh over a month ago and have already set myself up in a job selling mens shoes in a flashy department store (whose name will not be mentioned, so not to be associated with the content of this blog) and a great flat that’s always full of laughter and wine, amongst other things.
Short of donning a kilt and learning the bagpipes, I am endeavoring to explore all things Scottish and have consequently sacrificed myself to a lifestyle full of cider, beer and the (very) occasional consumption of haggis… which IS an unthinkable mix of meat odds (and NOT, as I’ve been told, an animal that runs ‘wild and free’ over the Scottish plains) mixed with oats and spices and served (with a drizzle of whisky) alongside tatties and neeps. (potatoes and turnips).
Needless to say, haggis was ‘not my cup of tea’ and had I not ‘accidentally’ eaten sausages the week before (fooled into it while inebriated, might I add), I probably would have avoided it altogether. (It’s difficult to convince yourself that you don’t eat red meat after eating offal stuffed in sheep’s gut) Of course, my flatmate Erik may have a different story. But he doesn’t have a blog, does he?!
My other ‘oh so Scottish’ activities here include belly dancing (we really should do it in tartan, just to be authentic) and Spanish lessons, in which I am planning to occasionally throw in a random local word, such as ‘blag’(to bullshit), ‘blether’ (to chat) and at every opportunity tell my tutor she is a ‘muppet’. (I personally think this insult should be more specific; I mean, which muppet are we talking about here?)
I’m working on the accent, but am still a long way from being Glaswegian (sometimes I get so confused, I think they’re speaking in Polish), which is unfortunate, as at least then I could avoid calling trousers ‘pants’ (pants here are underwear) and flip-flops ‘thongs’. It’s only a touch humiliating to ask a customer what pants he will be wearing with those shoes…
So enough blagging from bonnie Scotland..
Hope all are happy, healthy and enjoying the sunshine. (Only a touch of jealousy there… it’s freezing!)
xxx
Nicole
