On December 2, I entered the world of the master.
A master of what, you may ask? A Master of Letters — all 26 of 'em!
Jokes aside, our graduation from the University of Glasgow was one of my proudest moments. I don't think that I stopped smiling all day. Many people remarked at how happy I looked and, my hand to God, I truly was.
See for yourself below or watch the ceremony in its entirety on the University of Glasgow website.
It was a bittersweet occasion that marked our final week in Glasgow and the end to the greatest year of my life.
Isn't my street cool?
It's especially cool at 8:30 a.m. when the temperature is below freezing!
Nick was the only one of us in trousers.
Here he is eating a breakfast yum-yum from Gregg's.
We were among the first of the graduands to get to the university that morning.
Which gave us the opportunity to pick up our gowns and take loads of schlocky photos.
Every shot had to be perfect for our mothers.
I think that my flatmate Chris and course mate Jose looked the best of all of us.
As more people began to show up, I ran into more of my course mates.
Tyler, the only other Southerner in the Creative Writing Programme, came back from Texas with his dad to attend graduation.
And we're back to the schlocky graduation photos.
This one is in front of the Kelvingrove Museum.
Here, we experiment with the Sears technique.
In this photo we try the "peace sign" pose but somebody forgot to give Jose the memo...
Awkward.
These guys do a really good job of conjure the spirit of the Hogwort.
Just before the graduation ceremony began, more than 200 graduands were herded into a room,
organized by department, and given a seat assignment.
This is what we eventually looked like.
Then, the balcony began to fill.
Alissa, who didn't "walk," took photos from this section of the historic Bute Hall.
Nick conveniently sat right behind me, although we studied on different courses.
This enabled him to snap a lot more photos.
Most of the graduands followed the program so diligently.
I think a lot of it was based on the narcissistic pride of seeing our names and titles in print.
I was so proud!
Here I am about to receive my masters, as my mother said, "grinnin' like a possum."
The Chancellor of the University tapped each graduand on the head with a velvet pillow to grant us our master.
Alissa called this getting "bonked."
Words cannot express how happy and present I was in this moment.
One of the best days of my life!
Graham, Nick, Emily, Jamie, and James lining up to get "bonked."
Nick, next in line to get his master's.
Natalie, Graham, and Nick just after receiving their degrees.
At the close of the ceremony.
Nick still snapping away!
Afterward all the graduands and their families congregated for photos and mimosas.
I love Europe!
Genevieve, my course mate, with our convenor, esteemed editor and poet, Michael Schmidt.
Here I am along with my lecturers Zoe Strachan, Elizabeth Reeder, and convenor Schmidt.
"Don't cross the streams!"
Still so happy.
Alissa, who unfortunately didn't participate in the ceremony, in Natalie's regalia.
The gang posing with our degrees.
I'm going to miss these folks.
Happily, there were no literal tears on Thanksgiving but there were some metaphorical "tears in our beer," at the acknowledgment that this wondrous, crazy experience is all nearing an end. I say, all the more reason to live in the present and appreciate every moment as it comes.
The anniversary celebrations continued throughout the weekend, as Nick and I went to Celtic Park on Saturday for our first Scottish football match, followed by an all-Scots concert at the SECC featuring the highly influential Glasgow-based '90s pop group Teenage Fanclub.
We had to schlep most of the ingredients from Glasgow, as everything in Gourock closes at about 6 p.m.
The next morning, Nick started on the turkey early.
As he slaved over the stuffing, I ate pouridge with berries and cream.
By this point, I'd already prepared the cornbread, apple cobbler, a green bean casserole, creamed spinach and baked beans. You can see the evidence of my hard work lining the counter, shrouded in aluminum foil.
While the worker bees were busy whipping up a suitable Thanksgiving meal,
the drinker bees were pre-gaming it with some Strongbow.
Here (L-R) Natalie, Chris C., Chris S., and Nick G. stand around the kitchen.
It was nightfall before we even started carving the turkey, which isn't saying much in Scotland because,
around this time of the year, the sun sets at 4 p.m.
The spread was amazing!
This photo doesn't do the food any justice at all.
After we'd all gorged ourselves, the antics began.
Here, I'm wrapping Alissa like a mummy.
Which eventually turned into the "Aztec Turkey."
At midnight it was our one year anniversary.
The next morning, on the way back to Glasgow, Nick stunted on the train.
I think he was trying to embarrass Alissa and myself.
Joke's on him, my life is one long embarrassment!
On Saturday, we bought tickets to the Celtic match against St. Mirren.
We took the subway to St. Enoch and walked the two miles past Glasgow Green (pictured above) to Celtic Park.
We were in a hurry because we were about thirty minutes late to the match,
but I wanted to snap a photo of all the equestrian cops around the stadium.
We finally made it to our section and realized that, in our lateness, we'd missed absolutely nothing.
In fact, in the first fifteen minutes of our arrival, the Celtics scored two points
and we were graced with an amazing sunset!
Another view of Glasgow and Celtic Park.
We were freezing in the nose bleeds.
Some Celtic propaganda.
After the match we walked back through Glasgow Green, past the People's Palace (pictured above),
en route to the SECC.
Before heading to the concert, we stopped at an Italian restaurant in the East End.
At the SECC waiting for Teenage Fanclub to take the stage, I found a curious machine.
This thing dispenses "Rollasoles," the disposable shoe.
More filly-farting.
This time, I found a Lady Gaga poster and posed beside it.
A view of the SECC hallway decorated for Christmas.
Finally, King Creosote took the stage.
He's Alissa's favorite.
At the end of the night, Teenage Fanclub.
"Love of my life," "Husband," "Sonic soul mate" — over the years, I've called John Vanderslice a lot of things. That's why, when I saw that he was scheduled to play Sneaky Pete's in Edinburgh on Nov 5, I instantly booked a ticket.
The past three times I've seen him, he's performed in crowded venues in New York and Austin. To my surprise, only about twenty people were in attendance Thursday night, allowing for a really special and intimate performance from Vanderslice.
Here's a link to a rendition of "Keep the Dream Alive" that I took at the end of his set: KTDA.
Bonfire Night, or Guy Fawkes Night, is essentially Great Britain's response to Halloween. That said, the two traditions couldn't be more different. On Halloween, children and adults don costumes, attend parties, and destroy the enamel on their teeth. On Guy Fawkes Night, which takes place five days after Halloween, children construct an effigy of Guy Fawkes, the Catholic conspirator involved in a 17th century plot to burn the House of Parliament, beg for money on the street, and later burn "the Guy" in a bonfire. A lot more morbid than our pagan holiday, I think.
Technically, Guy Fawkes Night was last Thursday but the celebrations spilled over into the weekend, including a fireworks display in the town of Gourock. Our friend Natalie has a home there and was nice enough to invite us out to the festivities on Saturday night.
Thanks to Alissa and Chris for the photos.
The display was actually in the neighboring town of Greenock, in Battery Park.
Here I am with Natalie and Chris, singing the Scottish version of "Con Te Partiro."
Alissa said that it included a line about Inverclyde.
Back at the house, Nick requests Jethro Tull and brings the "party" down a bit with "Aqualung."
I just stuff my face with shoestring crisps.
Natalie found a pair of bread slippers online and decided to try and eat them.
The next day, we had to head to the train station early in order to make it back to Glasgow by noon.
We were showing my room to potential occupants, in anticipation for my move back to the States in a month.
On the train, Nick and I were up to our normal shenanigans.
I'm not sure which of the two of us is "hammier"
The week before Halloween was a mad dash to finish our costumes, buy decorations for the party, decide on spooky-themed treats, and actually pull the whole thing off. Well, we did it and we've got pictures to prove that people actually showed up. In fact, quite a few people showed up and the last one didn't leave until 5 o'clock in the morning.
Thanks to Alissa and Chris Fyvie for the photo documentation.
I was the national drink of Scotland: IRN BRU.
This is Chris Fyvie.
He's... "the 70's"
My flatmate Chris was the Mad Hatter.
John, Robin, and Robin's boyfriend Brad hover near the snack table.
Nick dressed as Scotland's favorite treat: A Cadbury Freddo.
People ADORED this costume.
Our friend Nick Green didn't have a costume so we gave him the sandwich board cards in our closet.
Alissa was a dinosaur and even sewed the tail and spikes on herself!
Nick was so dedicated to his costume, even though it inhibited many of his senses.
Someone was playing my song.
After slaving over my costume for the past week-and-a-half, tonight I will see my vision realized!
Stay tuned for photos from what is sure to be the best Halloween ever! Yes, even better than last year's Halloween under the same prelude...
A couple Saturdays ago, while on the lawn bowling courts at Kelvingrove Park, I had the odd and utterly awesome privilege of playing beside Belle & Sebastian front man Stuart Murdoch and his wife. Although I recognized him, I was unable to place his face, even after one of their balls rolled into our court, it was not until I went home and Googled who I thought he was that I indeed discovered it was Stuart Murdoch.
Two weeks later, that's yesterday, I was working the regular Saturday night shift at my job and guess who sits down at a table in the back? None other than Stuart Murdoch and his wife. We ended up chatting about Glasgow for a while, my master's degree, and the state of the journalism industry! He even suggested that I write a novel to curb the economical impact of the recession!
Star-worship aside, the music nerd in me thinks that this is probably one of the coolest Glasgow experiences that I've have. After all, we are talking about the genius behind Dog On Wheels, Tigermilk, If You're Feeling Sinister, and The Boy With the Arab Strap!
Stuart Murdoch, lead singer of Belle and Sebastian
Fortunately, the first part of the hike gave decent weather.
We even lost the trail and had to come down a bit early.
Here's the last photo of the trip, a waterfall on our long journey home.
When we woke up, it was Nick's birthday!
It is thought that the protruding pinnacle of the rock resembles the nose of an old man.
Another view of the landslips and vandalized sign advising hikers that
"[we] are advised (not) to go beyond this point"
I decided that the mountaineering life is not for someone prone to vertigo.
Here I am defeated and humbled.
Hiking down we found a little pond carved into the side of the mountain.
Two things you can find everywhere on Skye.
Okay, phone booths, sheep and ruins.
When we made it back to Portree for dinner, a flock of seagulls massed to our parked car.
This one landed right outside the window.
It was one of the windiest and rainiest camping experiences of my life.
As it turns out, we had inadvertently stepped into the middle of parking lot dispute
between the hostel and neighboring residents.
At this point, he was thinking about writing a hateful note to the Slovak that keyed our car.
I think it closed with something like "you're a horrible, horrible person."
I tell you, we barely made it out of Inverness alive.
At Johnny Foxes, I found a piece of steel wool in my Guinness pie and, on the way back to our car,
a stranger accidentally punched me in the stomach.
Then, we confronted the suspected vandal and I thought Nick was going to get punched out.
For one, we found this giant Nessy statue.
Proves there's always a rainbow after 18 hours of very strange (and intermittently painful) dark clouds.
Nick looking very dad-like again.
Urquart rhymes with...
Between 1919 and 1932, the castle was restored to its original splendor.
Across the Loch, I found a patch of blackberries.
I always get so excited when I find edibles in the wild!
They were mostly good.
and onto to our campsite in Portree, at the base of the Trotternish Ridge.
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