Autumn & Opportunity

I’m writing this post from the MSP block of offices in Parliament, which is abandoned on Sunday and provides the perfect, scenic, wi-fi enabled work space to catch up on some things (or with some people!)

View over Holyrood park from my office in Holyrood (Parliament)

The weather here today is beautiful so I have plans to run around the park in a few hours with one of the Mylne’s Court cohort.

The past couple of weeks have gone well – I’m settled into all of my classes which mercifully give me ample time outside of the classroom to pursue other personal initiatives of interest (not least amongst them finishing law school applications and statements). I’m working in Parliament roughly 2.5 days/week now, going in all day Tuesday when I don’t have class and on Wednesdays and Thursdays when I’m not in classes or meetings. This coming Wednesday the Director of the Scots Language Centre, located up in Perth, will be coming down to Edinburgh and we’ll be meeting to discuss research I can do for the Scots Centre that will be tri-beneficial to the Director, my MSP and my own dissertation research for my masters.

I spent the day yesterday visiting Hayley Rushing in Glasgow and we had a wonderful day with crisp autumn weather exploring the city’s cathedral and the necropolis. We had lunch in Rennie MackIntosh’s famous Willow Tea Room, explored the main areas of the University of Glasgow where Hayley now goes, including their excellent Hunterian Museum, went to a pub for typical hard cider and then headed to a great pre-theatre dinner at the incredible Butchershop restaurant (http://www.butchershopglasgow.com/) which I know I’ll want to go to every time I visit the city. The night ended with a visit to the King’s Theatre to see an amazing performance of Slava’s Snowshow (http://www.slavasnowshow.co.uk/) which is honestly one of the most visually beautiful performances I have ever seen. The performance felt like moving through a dream with the clowns, and ended in a literal blizzard engulfing the entire theatre, and balls that floated around the audience for a full half an hour.

Slava's Blizzard

The show was a feast for the eyes

All in all, a wonderful day of wandering around a new city and experiencing the best of what it has to offer the visitor.

This past week I was also named Class Representative for the linguistics and English language postgraduate students, meaning that I’ll sit on the student/staff committee(s) that work to improve the student experience. I was also elected by my peers in the student government elections to serve as a Postgraduate Representative (All Schools) on the Student Council, which is essentially the Parliament of the Edinburgh University Students’ Association. Elected members of Student Council work to set student government policy, spend the budget, sit on school and campus-wide committees, coordinate campaigns, etc. I’m looking forward to the opportunity to get involved and better wrap my head around the large university for the year that I’m in Edinburgh.

Tomorrow I’m headed to St Andrew’s to enjoy an autumn day on the coast and have lunch with Jodi Fisler, W&M’s Assistant to the VPSA, who is visiting St Andrew’s for a few days to do work with the College’s new joint degree program with St A. It will be great to catch up with her and hear how the College is doing before I head back to the States this coming Thursday for Homecoming. I’ll be in Virginia this Thursday afternoon (the 20th) through Sunday evening and cannot wait to be home and see family, old friends and the College again. It will be excellent to be back on the east coast if only for a few days to enjoy a proper American fall, which doesn’t really manifest itself over in Scotland. My dance card is already filling up rapidly but I’m looking forward to just soaking up being back ‘home’ in Williamsburg for a few days. Four days after returning from the US I’ll be hopping on a flight, via Frankfurt, to spend four full days in western Portugal in the city of Porto, which I’ve never been to before. I’ll be heading down to meet Allison Averbuch and a friend of hers who are flying to meet me from Paris. We’ve found a cheap but superbly outfitted flat right in the middle of the old town with a kitchen and a rooftop balcony we can sit on to get some sweeping views of the city. The days and nights will be filled with exploring the coastal town made famous for perhaps it’s most famous export – Port wine. (in between these ventures I’ll be turning in midterms for my phonology and Scots/Scottish English lectures, respectively, so all this flight time will be used constructively!)

Tomorrow I’m going to be in touch with the University’s Development and Alumni Office who have expressed their interest in potentially taking me on as their first ever student intern to work with University development and alumni matters, including the University’s Campaign boards and trusts. Having the ability to continue gaining experience in university development would be a great opportunity and even if I’ll likely be very busy with two internships I’ll be learning a lot in both of them and doing the kinds of things that I really love doing. I’ve always done the best work and been happiest when I have the most work to do. The recent death of Steve Jobs reminds us that you can never been too busy with the people and initiatives that you love; because that will always be play.

In between all of this I just completed all aspects of my law school applications for all the schools I’ll be applying to – including individual supplemental materials for every school. I’ve spent the past two weeks polishing up statements, gathering input from alumni at various law schools, and reaching out to admissions committees at various schools. Within the next 10 days I will be receiving my LSAT scores and as soon as they’re received I’ll be spending a long night filling out all the last minute details and sending off the applications to all of the schools. Each of the school’s I’m opting to apply early to have some sort of early notification process or rolling admissions which means I should start hearing from schools on a rolling basis beginning in November. Having some exact knowledge of where I’ll be attending law school for the next three years will take a lot of the pressure off me that’s there now, especially if I manage to get into the kinds of schools I’d really love to be attend.

October is busy and exciting with a lot more to still look forward to, and November is right around the corner with my birthday and a week-long visit from Bailey Thomson out to Edinburgh. This week, Michael Tsidulko, who is doing his Fulbright in Bulgaria, also decided to join in the fun and will be headed over to stay with me for four days in Edinburgh over Thanksgiving. Since this will be my first Thanksgiving spent without my real family, I’m thankful that the closest members of my college ‘family’ will be joining me and my other American friends in Scotland for what will promise to be a beautiful expatriate Thanksgiving.

Over the course of the next month and a half, my hope is to be giving plenty of thanks to the number of exciting new opportunities ahead of me. Edinburgh is continuing to reinforce in me a very simple lesson: reach out, put yourself out there and don’t settle for anything less than what ultimately makes you happy. If you don’t see an opportunity out there – create one for yourself. Refuse to sit down and take life as it comes.

Think creatively; draw new connections; don’t be afraid to take risks; always be positioning yourself to experience new things you’re not familiar with; remind other people how necessary they are for you. You can always do more, think bigger. A great life isn’t about business as usual.

It’s about creating one worthy of living.

Wish me luck as law applications go out!

and now, October

I’m having interview deja vu as I sit here in Kensington for the second time in the past year after a school interview. I can’t help that feel like the past few years have been this marathon of running around and having people gauge my fitness for things. Why do you want to attend Northwestern (as was the case today), or King’s (as was the case last December), or Virginia or Edinburgh or Cornell or Hong Kong University. Or any number of other schools I’ve eyed throughout the graduate school and law school application process. As children, we’re taught how annoying it is to ask Why? after every question.

I’m cleaning the dishes.

Why?

Because they’re dirty

Why?

Because you ate dinner on them

Why?

Because people need to eat dinner somewhere

Why?

SHUTTTTTTTT UPPPPPPPPPP BRIANNNNNNN

But in interviews Why? is par for the course – the more of them sprinkled throughout, the better. That’s why this morning’s interview with Northwestern Law went well – only one why. The rest banter. Anecdotes. Recollections. Aspirations. No existentials.

The heavenly lack of existentials and why’s of the morning was, of course, quickly shoved aside in favor of them en masse for the Law School Admissions Test this afternoon. I’m walking into Ironmongers’ Hall in London thinking to myself “is this even fair that they allow people to test in here?” – it’s pretty commonly known (at least amongst those who, like me, ran searches on their testing location prior to arriving there) that the Hall was featured in the fourth Harry Potter film. Really? You’re going to make me take a test like the LSAT in a Harry Potter film set…in London? And the rather darling old British women proctoring the test were a lovely fixture, as well, until they revealed their true sides by snarling silences at anybody who so much as coughed throughout the course of the multi-hour examination marathon. The test though, on the whole, went rather well I thought. Of course it’s nearly impossible to tell. Towards the end of my regimental preparation I was taking an LSAT a day.

And making myself extremely anti-social amongst our dorm friends. Nothing to quite alienate yourself during the first month at a new school like having to take the LSAT in London in a few weeks time.

At this point – almost all of them look the same; sound the same; but somehow miraculously never quite are the same, which is, of course, what allows them to keep offering the godforsaken exam scrutinizing people’s understanding of the most unholy of things: Logical Games.

Let’s be clear: these are not games.

These are punishments.

Seven people are on a boat (insert impossible to remember mix of international names that in any real life situation would never exist) and they sing karaoke over the period of two nights such that three people sing on the first night, Monday, and four people sing on the second night, Tuesday. They sing in a particular order one at a time such that the following rules govern their performances….

And then the test breaks out the rules which serve as a Real Housewives-esque catalogue of all the interpersonal problems these unrealistically interracial people have with one another. So and so hates to sing with so and so or will only sing after so and so. So and so hates so and so so much that it’s impossible for them to even sing karaoke on the same night as one another.

And then you answer questions about all of them. After awhile, you begin to think that instead of formal logic you should have just subjected your brain to a cross-training regimen of 5 hours of Jersey Shore a day for 2 months so that you could become accustomed to remember exactly who had a problem with who at what time and (again) – Why?

If you want me to get up and make a presentation in front of an audience of 500 strangers, fine. If you want me to write you a brief or construct an argument in 40 pages, fine. Hell, if you want me to write and construct an argument in 40 pages and then present it in front of a group of 500 strangers in just 1 week’s time – fine. But for the love of God – stop asking me about what would happen if Yakiku sang karaoke in the slot immediately before Pepita but after Baptiste. None of us care. We never cared.

But it’s over and I’m thankful for that. It at least makes the backpack roughly 5 pounds lighter at all times. For the past month I’ve been carrying around loads of LSAT prep materials at all times in case I randomly found myself with 35 minutes of spare time – just enough to sit down and complete one whole section. Is it amazing that for a small period of time (the past three weeks) I lived my life around the small excitements of finding 35 minute blocks of time where I could sit in silence and do logical reasoning puzzles?

Nevermind that.

Now, of course, the tricky part is just managing to wait for the results to come in, finishing up law school applications, having the applications sent off, and waiting. The one part of the application completely out of your control. The Wait. And hopefully getting into one of my top school choices.

Monday sees the third week of classes begin at Edinburgh which are proving to be interesting so far – the lectures themselves are engaging and the professors clearly passionate and bright but the reading is more of a suggestion if you’re interested than a strict requirement since essentially every class I’m taking is only graded on the basis of a cumulative 2,000 word essay submitted in December (this blog post is just shy of 2,000 words, as a foil). This past week I also got into Parliament to begin my intern work there by being introduced to the MSP (Member of the Scottish Parliament) who I will be interning for. My MSP, it turns out, is wonderful, which is a huge relief seeing as how I’ll be spending at least two and a half days there a week. And so very Scottish to boot, which I’m thrilled with. A proper Scotsman. Says aye all the time like a Scotsman (or a pirate…) He has an interest in the research interests I have in Parliament and that I plan to have be the foundation for my masters dissertation at the end of next Spring. Working for the now super-majority Scottish National Party (SNP) is a fantastic opportunity (esp. as a foreign national) in a historic moment for Scotland as a nation (or devolved nation, at least). I think my time in Parliament will be an interesting one for a number of reasons, and beneficial in that hopefully by December through doing research for the MSP I will have a huge chunk of dissertation research completed – if not pieces of the dissertation written altogether – roughly 8 months before it’s even due.

I didn’t see any bowties on my first day but these are things that can be worked on.

I’m still taking time to get used to the idea of city life which doesn’t quite become me; living in the middle of a city will also be a growing experience and I already know quite a bit about what the ideal law school situation would be like for me as a result of my short time in Edinburgh. I’m also learning to cope with the idea that Edinburgh is roughly 5x larger than W&M in total – and that the proverbial fish pond is much larger here. The important thing to remember is that the pond doesn’t determine the size of the fish per se so much as it determines how the fish (me) feels in relation to its surroundings. The fish community in a bigger pond is more diluted. I plan to run for the student government as one of only a handful of postgraduate representatives on the governing Student Council within a couple of weeks time (the student government actually does things here and has real responsibility). If I’m elected, I have confidence that I’ll be able to better wrap my head around the idea of a large institution. Time will tell, but it doesn’t hurt to put yourself out there. I’ve also been named as the representative for my degree program (some things never change). I’ve been attending some of the rowing events but the activity took side saddle over the past week to the LSAT and determining my place and time in Parliament. The next few weeks will tell how it will fit in once everything is put into motion simultaneously.

The weather over the past week has been glorious and today in London was even nicer than it’s been in Edinburgh (London providing a slight additional warmth). I’m assured, however, that this indian summer will quickly pass and give way to Scotland’s more traditional cold, wet, dark emerging winters. While I can’t say I’m looking forward to the change, I also can’t say I was altogether ignorant of its existence when I ultimately made the choice to come here. The warmth, though, has been just what the doctor ordered as it allowed some of us to get outside and spend time in George Square at the University or Holyrood Park down the Royal Mile.

Tomorrow morning it’s back up to Edinburgh – but tonight I can rest assured that two big checks have been put on the never-ending to-do list. The biggest, of course, is finishing the test I’ve been preparing for and stressing about so I can focus more fully on completing my applications before the scores arrive in just a few weeks time.

Until then, I’ll get my feet wet in this excellent new position in Parliament, continue with my classes, look forward to traveling back to the States for W&M’s Homecoming in 19 days and enjoy the last fleeting bits of ‘warm’ weather while they last.

Tomorrow marks only a month out of the States but there’s already quite a bit that’s been accomplished and to be thankful for. Here’s looking forward to an exciting and even more fruitful October.

My God

The weather got colder today. This afternoon, I got caught in a rainstorm and ducked into a small church I had never been in before off the road. There were some people in the church and I remembered thinking to myself what their Gods must look like.

My God would be perpetual autumn.

He would wear a watch with a brown leather band because He would think too much metal wasn’t appropriate for a wrist. He’d like to know what time it was. He wouldn’t tweet or facebook – too much. He’d revel in receiving physical mail from people; He’d always be looking out his window towards the mailbox. Every Christmas, He’d leave the mailman an envelope with a card of thanks and a small token of His appreciation. He’d appreciate how no mail is ever delivered on Sundays. He would always hold the door for people in public spaces. Courtesy would be important to Him.

My God would be a dog person. Even if they were messy.

He’d like it when little children were dressed as adults, in blazers and corduroys. He’d laugh at how we’re all so concerned with growing up; until it is that we eventually are. Youth, He would muse, is always wasted on the young. He would like game meat and the sportsmanship of it. My God is an avid bird-watcher. He could sit outdoors for hours.

My God would never need to use a microphone in a crowded room. A voice like His would carry without ever being raised. If He was a She, She’d wear scarves and love seeing tulips in the hundreds. She’d know that spring has always been the world’s answer to winter.

My God would be slightly clumsy. He would get excited and turn quickly and knock a book off the table. He’d always have books on tables; things He’s always meant to read but never quite gotten the time to. He would appreciate libraries for their aesthetic appeal but prefer to buy books so that He could be the first to truly open their spine and greet them: Hello. I’m God. He would love old words. Words that say just the right thing. He would write letters to all of His friends and appreciate the small moments of satisfaction when a particular combination of pen and paper mesh nicely.

A single poem from Cummings would break My God’s heart. He would have memorized as many of them as He can. He would love quoting them to women.

My God’s face would contort in laughter. Sometimes it would leave Him out of breath.

My God would have degrees in things that actually interested Him. But He would be a renaissance God. He could talk to you about stick-shift cars, US Open upsets and college endowments. He would have a good arm and a respectable mile time, but He would be content with His strength, His speed and His body. He would be comfortable in His own skin. He would have friends who were divorced, who were gay and who were atheists. He would think often of how diversity is our strength, not our weakness. He would look outside the window of His study, see how beautifully a Virginia cardinal sits in its tree during autumn with its family, and marvel at how people could ever believe they were alone in the whole wide startlingly large universe. He would like quiet but would like people more. He wouldn’t like being alone for too long. He would be a people person. He’d like a full house. Listening to others tell stories would be his favorite. He could stare at a fire for hours.

My God would bring a good pinot noir or Scotch with him to dinner parties.

Sometimes he would bring both. My God can be indecisive at times.

He would eat almost anything and not altogether mind the smell of smoke outdoors. He would dislike starting days without breakfast and reading the news. He would be strict about getting it from different sources. My God would believe it is fundamentally possible to fall in love with somebody from the moment you see them for the first time. He would have charities that He was loyal to; especially His school. He would have gone to school somewhere on the East Coast. He wouldn’t miss a Homecoming. Loyalty would be important to My God. He would be thankful for close friends.

My God would like it when people looked neat and gave of themselves to others. He would understand how little time there is to be good to one another. My God would be a God of forgiveness. Sometimes, He would be forgetful. Insignificant things would never clutter my God’s mind. He would remember people’s favorite colors and forget what He had for lunch that day.

All my God would ask of me is to sometimes be quiet and listen to others. He would like me to appreciate my largeness and my smallness simultaneously and know they don’t conflict. My God would ask thankfulness of me. On the streets, He would have me smile at others when our eyes met, even if we did not know one another. He would tell me that religion was never as important as Faith. That there is God in indefinitely many things. Little Gods and Large Gods. gods with little “g’s”, even. If He was writing quickly sometimes He would even forget to capitalize his own name.

His mistakes would roll off Him like water.

My God wouldn’t ask much more than that. We could stay up at night talking for hours. About everything, about nothing. We would wake up in the morning tired. But we would never disappointed that we’d stayed up late. He would remind me that there has never been a reason to regret watching the sun rise up before you.

Slow Starts

With the dawning of the day on Sunday came the first real dawning of the simple fact that I am here now and I was, for better or worse, alone. Saturday evening, to avoid the emotion of parting with parents, I headed quickly up the hill from our flat to the Royal Mile and my new dorm and home, where I attended the tail end of a meet and greet for flat mates. A couple of us went out for drinks afterwards. In college, we played train wreck. Here, you have a beer. Or more.

Sunday, the tenth anniversary of 9/11, I woke up late with a bit of a headache in a room filled with bags and unopened boxes of things just newly mine, in a room just newly mine, in a city just newly mine. I’d be lying if I said the beginning of Sunday wasn’t a rough start for me. I guess that’s because I’ve never been completely alone before, and I also guess it’s because solitude has never been a place where I’ve thrived.

Ubuntu: I am because you are.

I tried to start off the day with familiar things to make myself feel better: a run in Holyrood Park and a coffee. Things that connect your new life with your old one when timezones prohibit the simple pleasures of gchat. At the university’s postgrad level hand-holding is virtually non-existent, but it’s to the point here that every postgrad I’ve spoken to seems a bit alarmed about it. People aren’t signed up for classes. Nobody knows how to collect their loans or pay their fees. We lack basic understandings about our programs or their start and end dates. Since almost all of us are international – we know almost nobody, have no phones, and don’t have functioning Scottish bank accounts. We’re jet-lagged, alarmed by the already cold weather, and trying to adjust to the ever-wondrous Scottish accent and its vernacular expressions. We’re trying as hard as we can but sometimes it just overwhelms you. Sunday morning was the time when I realized I wasn’t going to be at home commemorating 9/11 on a college campus with friends who lost real visceral things that day. That I wasn’t going to get up ‘business as usual’ and attend a million meetings, work on classes, and grab meals with friends old and new. Everything here is new and, as of now, there’s no schedule. Fluidity often has its way of stifling far more than rigidity does.

Sunday afternoon and evening got better. I attended sessions for international students that, while not informative in any meaningful way, nevertheless put me in contact with more people. I walked around with some students I met from them. Sunday evening my dorm had a pub crawl and I learned that some amazingly interesting and fun people live right around me who are in exactly the same position. We went out for drinks. Joked. Commiserated. Facebook-friended (then it’s official, right?). Today, much of that continued and all before 11 I managed to navigate much of this huge school’s confusing infrastructure.

I signed up for the national healthcare service.

I matriculated and registered with my school.

I bought notebooks, highlighters and pens.

I set up a bank account

I attended sessions, tours, a wine & cheese and had dinner with my new friends.

I met up with a fellow W&M student studying abroad at Edinburgh.

So – a bit more structure. Tomorrow there are more introductions but much free time to still be had. Wednesday, things pick up just a tiny bit with my program introductions, and “Fresher’s Week” (Edinburgh’s orientation) concludes on Saturday. Classes start Monday (if I’m taking any) and my adviser has already emailed me tonight asking for a number of different things from me that will take some time to work on. I’m trying to use the spare time to square my head, connect with new friends and fellow postgrads, figure out when I’m going to study for the LSAT, and just generally get my bearings. Wednesday is a societies fair where I’ll have the ability to get involved in things and meet more people in a way that I hope will eventually lend some structure and happiness-inducing business to my days in addition to programmatic and housekeeping matters. I’m keeping my head up but the difference in the orientation experience in the UK versus US is vast. I imagine the transition must be difficult for many. Edinburgh, while not a foreign planet, is certainly a foreign place with a foreign feel. You have to reach out to connect and really put yourself out there in a way that some people aren’t used to. As an undergraduate I felt like I knew everybody and was in control of my environment. Here, things are different so far. I’m a small fish again in a large pond. But with time, you grow. Last night, to clear my head for a bit, I attended a candle lit concert in St. Giles’ Cathedral just a stones throw from my dorm. For an hour and a half I sat in silence with others and just listened to the beautiful music in the ancient space. As Mark Rothko was famous for remarking, sometimes “the silence is so accurate.” I needed the time to think about 9/11, my new life and what it will be like, my goals and my fears. Sometimes, we just need the ability to sit in silence and enjoy the transcendence of music in a space as old as enlightenment itself. Regardless of your place on the globe or those you sit around – the human connection exists.

The dorm I’m staying in is nice and conveniently located – it seems crazy to be living in a building from the 17th Century. My room is nice while the flat itself is less than I’d expected. I’ve connected well with one flatmate but have yet to really meet the other three who I’m told are Japanese or Chinese. They seem mysteriously gone or just by themselves in their rooms. The kitchen, replete with its rice-cookers, has already been claimed in the silent war as a sort of Japanese culinary protectorate. At some point I’ll have to force a meeting with them. Ground rules and expectations will have to be established. I’d at least like to know their names even if I have other friends and other priorities and don’t see them much. It’s hard to imagine they could come here and not be in the same boat of wanting to reach out to others as much as possible as I am. Different people need different things.

The housekeeping and RA staff is phenomenal and friendly – accessible and omnipotent. They, at least, seem genuinely interested in making your stay here natural, friendly and productive. They operate in offices that constitute a small part of the underground labyrinth that is the lower levels of my ancient dorm. A vast network of sprawling subterranean common rooms that people don’t seem to be occupying much yet. The walls and staircases are made of stone and the doors are huge and wood and have bolts in them. The building smells ancient and looks it, as well. If you’re going to live in Scotland for a year as a student, you might as well do it in the shadow of the castle at the top of the Royal Mile.

The international vibe here is incredible. While sitting at any given table with these new friends I find myself constantly amazed at how many places around the world they come from, how many different places they’ve studied, how their world views must be similar and differ from mine and the sheer breadth of differences between the varied courses that we’re pursuing. The US doesn’t have a candle on the kind of variety and diversity that you find at a large, prestigious international university that draws its students literally from all over the world. I believe there are some 7,500 international students who study at Edinburgh. They come from everywhere and it’s incredible to get to know them and hear about their lives.

In lesser reports: the running locations are good, the pubs have character, the restaurants are plentiful and the constant bag pipe music up and down the Royal Mile is already beginning to annoy me. What the Duke of Gloucester Street in Williamsburg was to the United States the Royal Mile certainly is to Europe. It’s hard to believe that I’ve now lived literally next to both and will have spent five years of my life living in pure tourist heavens. This has its benefits and drawbacks.

It’s going to take awhile to get into a routine here but I’m going to have faith that eventually it will establish itself as it always does. Things are rough, and then they get better. Transitions are hard, especially when you’re coming from somewhere like William and Mary. Though I always planned ahead, I never lived there as if there was something truly after it. It’s impossible. The place envelops you so completely. No matter how much you know it’s coming – the separation is always a surprise. It hits you in different waves and in different ways. Yesterday, a wave hit me. But the quake is passed and the aftershocks get lighter and lighter as the days wear on. I think it’s a beautiful thing to miss the places you’ve come from. It’s a sign of fulfillment and community. Of an understanding that things can be immeasurably special.

But the difficulties here are already making me stronger. I’m learning things and I’m meeting people, and it can only continue. With courses and societies, we’ll find ways to contribute to and be a part of the things that fulfill us and give us purpose and meaning. It’s all just a matter of finding out what kind of fuel you take in this new place. How far that lets you travel. I’m recognizing that I’m not alone in feeling initial worries and anxieties about transitions. I’m not sitting in my room – I’m putting myself out there. Now is not the time to close the door on possibilities.

Baby steps. I’m going to get more confident on my feet.

I tell myself this is going to be an experience for the rest of my life I will be glad I seized. This ability to forsake the comfort zone for a state of insecurity with the potential for great gains. People have always said that which makes you special will invariably make you lonely – but it only has to be initially.

Tomorrow morning I’ve set my alarm early. I’ll get up, run, get a coffee at someplace new, shower, make a to-do list, attend my mandatory sessions and set out

The Royal Mile seems mercifully bag-pipe free before 9 a.m. during the weekday. So there’s one thing already to look forward to.

 

Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My God, do you learn. // C.S. Lewis

 

Post

Here is my official post address at the university:

Brian Focarino

ES 511

517 Lawnmarket

Edinburgh EH1 2PF, UK

+5

Well, I’ve been in London since Friday evening and by this point find myself itching to finally head up to Scotland to begin the process of settling in at Edinburgh. The fall is almost certainly in full tilt temperature-wise here so tomorrow will bring with it temperatures that range on average ten degrees cooler than London. And, of course, much of the same famous UK slate gray weather and rain.

Our flat has been great with a balcony that at least for the first couple of days (before the rain really came in earnest) afforded easy sitting and sweeping views out over Waterloo towards the Thames. The flat’s mysterious propensity for heating up monstrously while we’re out is countered by the opening of numerous sliding doors to the chilly outside (especially during the night) which I keep open into my room despite the rain. I’ve also been reacquainted with the rather strange propensity here (read: frustrating) for showers that lack robust leakage protection systems. While studying abroad at Oxford during high school I remember the horror with which I discovered my shower was separated from the remainder of the tiny bathroom by nothing more than an inch tall ‘lip’ on the floor. No curtains. No curving floor to funnel all the water into a drain. Just some huge physical shower-acrobatics required to not flood the entire bathroom for hours if not days.

Since Friday I’ve gorged on almost all that London has to offer in terms of tourist cuisine. Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s, Covent Garden, Camden Market, Tower of London, Piccadilly, shopping districts, a show in the theater district (a tremendous Phantom of the Opera tonight at Her Majesty’s), a Harry Potter tour around the city (had to), parks galore and visits to a good swath of the city’s tube stops. This much is true: London is either excellent or boring depending on your disposition.

London, of almost all the major cities I’ve visited, comes across as possessing the most liveable quality. A transition to living in London would, in my mind, be far easier than an equal transition to, say, Dallas or Los Angeles. London is such an international city that after a couple of days it ceases to possess the quality of ‘otherness’ which frequently sustains and enchants visitors through tourist attrition and burnout. Granted, things are older. Things have the names “royal” and “majesty” sprinkled all throughout their names, but not much differs or is shockingly strange about the city. Perhaps the most shocking thing, coming from US transit, is of course the actual convenience and general pleasant experience one derives from riding around on the London underground. Trains on time, pleasing looking people dressed in more or less pleasing arrays, ads, automated displays, and a clean while sufficient system of lines and hub stations. Compared with the frequently broken, running late, drab gray DC metro, the Tube is an affirmative mass-transit supernova in the constellation of international transport infrastructure.

It’s actually been an odd experience traveling alone with my parents. With family I’m used to crowds. Siblings, friends, friends of friends. “Table for 3″ is an odd sensation when your family normally enjoys a high valence of human energy. The benefit, of course, is that we’ve been able to do quite a bit. I’ve always thought that the Travel Channel should have a crew follow us around when we visit places to film some sort of “World’s Most Extreme Tourist Families” segment. Watching us walk down the street you’d think we were competing for medal placement in the power-walking olympics. The efficiency with which I swipe my tube card so that the doors don’t close between me and the person in front of me whose heels I’m on makes me feel like I’ve been a jaded yuppie for years already. I overheard a couple of posh 20-somethings on the tube this evening complain to one another:

“I’m horribly put off by queuing for all these trains”

(for the record there is actually a mathematical study called Queueing theory, which is the mathematical study of waiting lines. Can you think of a more horrible thing to spend your life doing? “what do you do for a living? “i study the math behind waiting in lines” “oh….shit dude…”)

In other news, I’m close to being totally on the UK sleep cycle – I probably have one or two more hours to go if I’m being honest with myself, though. Generally I’d be out like a light by this time back in the states if I wasn’t going out or working on a project. I should probably be enjoying these last couple precious days of relative calm but I can’t help but feeling bad that I’m not cramming for the LSAT (October 1st test date) or somehow prepping for master’s program research or classes (even though I haven’t been asked to, have been led to think that’s atypical and am not even sure if I’m taking any classes whatsoever…)

It feels good and natural to be here thus far. We’ll see how heading North tomorrow puts things into perspective. With coins that are actually useful, weather that changes in a split second’s notice, transit that is on time and visually pleasing, cold weather in early September and an ocean separating me from the life I’m used to: one thing is abundantly clear – we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Candlelight

I need to post this because with just a day left until I leave, it speaks to me very much. This was the speech given by a friend, Mo Torabinejad W&M ’10, to the graduating W&M senior class of 2010 during the beautiful senior candlelight ceremony. Although I was only finishing junior year when I stood in the Wren yard and watched some of my best friends leave me and the College to move on to the rest of their lives, the words were powerful then and they’re powerful now. I’m trying my best to practice having faith.

 

Candlelight Ceremony 2010

Mo Torabinejad ’10

 

i’m talking about a place so magical that you get nostalgic for it before you ever leave. a place so magical that you can’t help but will memories from their sleep just so you could tuck them back in so you could wake them back up so you could begin to understand what breathing under a blanket is really all about: the ups and the downs. and the dreams that make our hearts beat over and over and over in a language incomprehensible to everyone but you.

i’m talking about dreams so fantastical that they inspire you to wake up. you ever wonder why your dreams are so beautiful? it’s because you are so beautiful. all the things you ever experienced in your life, all the things that you will never, ever, ever be able to take away – all of them coming together in a constellation of infinite grace to remind you of who you once were and who you will be. the unending reminders of who we are that propel us to know where we need to go, that beg us to never forget about the love it takes to live a life. 

i’m talking about home, a place ever-changing and never-changing. the people that come and go, from generation to generation, from class to class – the rings of a bell marking new beginnings in a building as ancient as wisdom and as young as curiosity. bricks in paths laid like moments pieced together to create a map of our history, its geometry resembling the mathematics of this tribe, the very flows of our passions – the reasons why we move. the steps and breaths we take made up of every unheard thank-you, every unheard i-love-you, and the things we are lucky enough to experience that help to give them meaning.

i’m talking about growth. taking care of stuff that needs to get done, working hard, and knowing that your growth as an individual is the greatest compensation. and craving that so badly that you cannot stop growing because you realize that your life is your greatest work, your greatest legacy. being who you are and never regretting it – but letting it teach you when need be. 

i’m talking about the why’s. there is a reason and a season for everything. a reason for struggle, for what would success be without it? a reason for pain, for what would pleasure mean in its absence? a reason for you – for all the little things that make you the person that you are, all the ways in which every day you’ve already changed the world.

i’m talking about strength, and how it comes from the heart – not the hands. the will – not the want. the lessons we have learned that teach us to never sell ourselves short because of how priceless we are. and the strength to believe that. 

i’m also talking about feeling weak – the knots you get in your stomach, and the way your chest tightens when you find yourself saying goodbye to the people you love – the way you never really say goodbye because words never really come out with those types of goodbyes. and how those people don’t need you to say a word anyway because they understand you in a way you never understood yourself.

there is a persian saying my father once shared with me. it goes, “agi laalaa’i baladi, cheraa khodet nemikhaabi?” translation: if you can sing lullabies so sweetly, then why is it that you yourself don’t fall asleep?

translation: that we may all sing, and sleep, and dream, and wake up to live what we love. and that we may all love, appreciate, and understand ourselves enough to know that this, at the very least, is what we deserve. 

translation: that is what i’m talking about. and that is what i’m going to be crying about – and smiling about, but mostly crying about – for the rest of this weekend. and probably after it, too. i love y’all so much. thank you.