in which a third-year computer science/political science double major from wellesley goes to edinburgh, puts her poor gaeilge to even worse use while mangling it with her newly acquired gaidhlig, learns about computer security and compiler theory, cooks without burning down her dorm (hopefully) and gets lost (a lot).
this began as a blog about my adventures in the city, but is quickly devolving into a space where i talk incessantly about my Early Modern Scottish History readings.
lucia made me do it
work this summer comes with a super-easy commute, free coffee twice a day, and more secrecy/nondisclosure agreements than I can count (government work ftw! I *think* I’m going to be there a short enough amount of time to miss the security clearances. maybe.) but it’s only three days a week, which leaves plenty of time for things like organising my bookshelves and dragging my sisters to frozen yogurt places and volunteering at the library and flopping around in front of the tv with law & order dvds and a pile of lsat/gre prep books. it’s going to be a fantastic summer!
today in ‘books I want that I do not make nearly enough money for’….
I picked up Manila Noir, though, and am going to get the Mao biography from my local bookstore when I go back to Wellesley (because, honestly, at the rate I buy books for my thesis, I am going to need a third suitcase to take them all when I go back east)
I am home. My luggage is not. Thanks, random guy who checked a bag on the Edinburgh to London flight and then didn’t show up, making us 40 minutes late to Heathrow and leaving no time to transfer our bags (and almost no time for *us* to transfer, Heathrow is far too big for its own good or for the laws of physics in general). Anyway, my dad and I bonded on the plane home by trying to decipher Stalin’s handwriting, it was great.
I’ve been remiss in blogging lately, mostly because last two finals + going to London with my dad + going to Skye with my dad = very little time for casual internetting, when internet was even possible. But I’ll write about those later, and also post pictures (yay, pictures!).
Now I think I’m going to go poke the parents to see about breakfast. My body is all, ‘it’s half three! Why haven’t you fed me yet?!’, while everyone else in the house is, quite reasonably, all ‘it’s half seven! Why are you even awake?!’ Plus side to being home, though: no pretend adult housemates to wreck the kitchen, no need to cook everything yourself :D.
in case anyone wondered what my weekend in london was like, it was basically that, followed by the acquisition of coffee, food, and books (usually in that order)
Cosmarxpolitan, Issue 14
Pssst… we’re crushing on Khruschev