Some places just make sense right from the get-go. Leaving the Edinburgh airport, I wasn't excited, but honestly comforted by being there. This whole freakin country is quite friendly, gorgeous and, though many of the roads and paths are a bit jagged, there is a sense of classic order. A bus took me from the airport to a main taxi stop and then to a hotel situated across the street from the stunning Edinburgh Castle. The castle sits atop a mound of volcanic rock and spans what looks to be about half a mile long and high.

My descriptions are all in total retrospect now that my senses and body have recovered from crazy jetlag that landed me at the hospital my first morning there. I tripped going up the stairs the night before, jamming my little pinky finger into the stone. I watched it twist and mangle waiting to hear or feel a snap. I didn't, thankfully. I did, however, watch it swell, tighten and turn purple for the next few hours. In the morning the directors of the program took one look at it and sent me off to have it checked. Getting to the hospital I still felt like shit- nauseous, exhausted, and a bit shaky- and sitting in a waiting room, I had to keep stepping outside to keep from falling over. I was also quite nervous about how I would pay for it. Spending time in such a facility was really an ideal introduction to a country- it was quick (less than 2 hours), the nurses were friendly (as most people here seem to be), and best of all it was free. Students get free medical care in the UK.

After the first morning, my days in Edinburgh were filled with orientations, tours, and trying to avoid looking and feeling like a tourist as much as possible. I met up with one of my faculty members from Bennington who's living in Edinburgh while on sabbatical, and he took me to what was to me a fancy-shmancy pub on the West End. Another night, I took myself out to a Mexican restaurant mostly for kicks- travel all this way and that's where I ate. Eating out is going to be one the more rare activities as everything here is twice the price it would be with the dollar.

Now in Glasgow, I've moved into my flat, bought my groceries, and spent most of today tooling around the city. The living situation is ideal in some senses, but it is also quite dormey and full of hyper-energetic college students- not so much ideal. I live in a flat with a few mates, cook for myself, and it's right in Center City. The school is very international, with a few students from the UK, but many are from other places in Europe, China, and the States. My sense of identity was shaken more than I anticipated with first being there- I was culturally disoriented, being an American made me bashful (the accent is hard to hide, even though the accent whore that I am, I've already begun to speak a little differently), and I'm generally hesitant to talk with folks I don't know. I went with it of course, and I wasn't completely miserable, but all my nerves came gushing out a couple of nights ago when I balled for two hours after talking to my parents for just a couple of seconds. It did the trick though; I've felt much better since.

Today was the first day I felt comfortable to head out and get acquainted with the city. I live off of Sauchiehall Street- a main pedestrian thoroughfare- and went out walking, making my way down to Merchant City and GoMA (Gallery of Modern Art, Glasgow). Rachel Whiteread is one of my favorite sculptors/conceptualist, and I saw my first physical piece of hers there this afternoon. I don't think that her stuff is really that much to look at, but I could spend hours following the trains of thought it sends me on. And that's what I did as I continued down Buchanan Street- another large pedestrian walk- past a kilted bagpipe player (I turned my ipod off as I passed that one), and made my way to the Cafe Nero I am in now, using the last of the 24 hours of wireless I paid five quid for last night.

So that was week one. Perhaps this will be weekly.

The first of my photos are up on my myspace (I don't know how to put them on here yet).

This is the first time I haven't been afraid in the moment before embarking. I was weepy yesterday and ainxious the day before, but I suppose since I've gotten this far, today should be fine. I'm still at the airport in Newark, New Jersey patiently waiting to get this show on the road. In 97 minutes my plane will be leaving for Amsterdam. The scheduled departure time was in a mere 6 minutes, but a bolt of lightning struck the plane on it's way in, calling for some repairs. Air traffic is one of the many aspects of my present life that are completely out of my jurisdiction. So here I wait, trusting that an hour and a half is an appropriate span of time to make sure that my plane won't drop from the sky.

I started this blog to break an old habit- I was already excited for the summer to be over in June, for months I thought about how glad I would to be going home after my time abroad, I could tell you what I am doing next year before I could tell you what I did yesterday. Having my life together and organized is one thing, but I take it a bit too far, leaving myself stressed out and less happy than I'd like to be. So, this is my chance to pay attention.

This is also an invitation to say hello sometimes, keep tabs, and check out photos (because I am also doing a photo journal- at least a photo a day).