Van Dyck, Macbeth and Hairy Coos

The last full day my dad and my brother had in Scotland we decided to go to Glamis Castle.



Good choice.



How New York does my dad look in this picture? The caption for this is definitely, "What the freak are you lookin at?!" Actually he was telling me to come on and take the picture already.



My covert attempt at capturing the castle's huge Frans Hals. Though I think it is mostly workshop... god I'm dull.



Another covert attempt at capturing some of the inside of the castle.



Adorable but smelly. Ditto for the cows.







After the castle tour we took a stroll around the grounds.





Artsy.



No one was taking pictures of me so I had to get in there somehow.



The Italian garden.







The Fam.



That evening my dad took me to the grocery store to buy a few things then we hoisted a few pints at the Whey Pat. On the way home we stopped at watched Uni Hall set off their annual garden party fire works.



The wee car we rented, seen with my dad and brother in it about to drive away the next day. Sad.

No Seriously, Stay Left

Friday it was back to Anstruther.



We were meant to be taking the ferry to the Isle of May but it was cancelled due to high winds.



Here is my dad demonstrating how high the winds were.



So instead we loitered at the harbour.



Loitering.





Doing the Robot.






Church in one of the villages on the way home. Strange architecture for this area. It looks very much like Hampton Court Palace but that doesn't really make a whole lot of sense. Could be an innovative Victorian Romanticism...ok, I'll stop now.

We wanted to go to Loch Leven but I had to get back to hall to be on duty (which I really wasn't but that is besides the point) so instead we had dinner out in St. Andrews and chilled at home.

Stay Left

Tuesday my dad and brother arrived in Edinburgh. I met them off the plane thanks to the marvelous Steve giving me a lift to the airport. We rented a car, well at least that is what they said it was, and drove with our heart in our throats back to St. Andrews. It really wasn't too bad, we just had to keep repeating, "stay left, stay left, STAY FLIPPING LEFT!"



The next day we ventured slightly north to the lovely town of Kellas where I took about a hundred pictures this time around due to my dad's prompting. Somehow I felt this sign was a warning just for my dad.



You wouldn't think it possible but we nearly got lost in Kellas.



I put it at a 50 to 50 chance that Ryan was actually going to fall into this huge puddle that blocked our way.



After the excitement that is Kellas we went to Anstruther for their famous fish and chips. That is some good stuff.



We hung around the docks for a while.



And roamed around the town.



And Ryan became mesmerized by the sand worms.



Then it was time for Dunino Den. Here is a shot of the well with baby ducks inside, so cute. I wanted to pick one up but the boys wouldn't let me, something about me getting my scent on them, but surely the water would have washed it off, they're ducks for crying out loud.





Dunino Den is a druid site though no one really knows what it was used for, some sort of rituals presumingy.



Celtic knot.









It's really beautiful here and the two times I have come it's been deserted making it all the better.









After this we jetted back to St. Andrews where dad and Ryan dropped me off at the Art History building for my weekly seminar (being given this week by Kiril!) while they explored the castle and went up St. Rule's tower.



The next day my brother wanted to go to Loch Ness. We probably could have made it but we started out a bit too late and really I couldn't be bothered to drive all the way there on the motorway. Instead we made stops along the way to Loch Tummel and then back again. Here we are in Dunkeld.





Where I finally got to see the Cathedral.



It was really amazing and the River Tay beside it was gorgeous.







The cathedral was started in 1318 and was an extremely important ecclesiastical center until it was destroyed during the Reformation. The choir was reroofed in 1600 to serve as the parish church.



You ever visit a grave yard and think, "I wouldn't mind being buried here"? No? Really? uh, maybe that is just me. I do think this is a really lovely spot though.





On the way home from Crief later in the day we saw a massive full rainbow. Luckily my camera battery decided to make one final effort so that I could catch it.





Before we got back to St. Andrews my dad pulled off into an industrial park and let me practice driving stick shift. I wasn't too terrible really and only stalled a couple of times.

24 Hour Party People Continued...

The next day I attempted to get the bro and Dad up early to see the changing of the guards. Well not even that early, the flipping thing is at half 11.



We took the bus because it is more scenic down to Buckingham but we had to stop on the way to find Ryan a glasses repair kit and take some quick photos in Trafalger Square.



After about 10 minutes of watching the two of them trying to put the glasses back together I grabbed it, screwed it back together myself in about half a minute then booked it down to the palace with the two of them in tow.



Needless to say, we missed it. Doh!



And then I left.
My dad gave me cab fare, for only the second taxi I have taken in my adult life in London, to get to the bus stop on time because I was in danger of missing my ride to the airport and then I was outta there. 24 hours in London, aren't I glamorous?



Seriously, aren't I? An hour after arriving back at Melville I was showered, dressed for the hall ball and up at Steve's drinking champagne. (Crawford and I decked out)



Rob, Crawford and Jamie making all the girls jealous that I got to hang out with them all night.



I can't even comment on these pictures it makes me crack up too much. I think we were dancing to "Superstition" though.











The ball was really such fun. First there was a ceildh, then a jazz band then a dj. The Old Course Hotel was a fantastic choice of a venue.



Niall, Jeremy, Jamie , Me and Rob chilling in the the back of the room away from prying eyes.



Niall, Jamie (not fellow subwarden Jamie but student in hall Jamie), Richard, me and Rob.



The one clear image I have in my head from this night was dancing and singing with Jamie to The Killers "Somebody Told Me". In fact I've had that song in my head ever since.
(Carol, Rob, Jamie, Dawn and I. I also have NO idea who was the one taking the picture).



It was a really great night, the hall committee did the most fantastic job of putting it on. I got completely drunk and sweaty and feet hurty and it was wonderful.

That's why it is highly unfortunate that an hour after I went to bed at 1:45am I was woken up by a deluge of water pouring from my ceiling into my livingroom and bedroom. Seems some assholes snuck into Melville and stopped up the bathtub above me flooding it and my entire flat. C'est la vie. Don't get me wrong, it royally BLEW but shit happens. I think I was just a bit overwhelmed by having to pull all of my belongings out of my room at 3 in the morning that it really never hit me fully. Being drunk also helped. The cops were called and I finally got to bed at 6am up at Steve's. I was given an empty student room to bunk in until my room was fixed and my visiting family stayed over at Crawford's while he was away in NYC so it all worked out alright.

24 Hour Party People

The plan was for me to meet my dad and brother down in London upon their arrival on Saturday. Alas the best laid plans. Instead I decided (or was forced, whatever) to cancel my trip to London and just meet them when they got up here Tuesday. Friday night I thought fuck that so I changed my return ticket to Edinburgh for Sunday mid-afternoon and flew down to London Saturday to meet them off the plane as a surprise. Does that all make sense, cause really I couldn't care less.



I arrived at London Baker street around 3pm and walked from there through Oxford Circus to Trafalger Square. I used to live in London and I loved it. I couldn't get enough of it and thought that there is no other city I'd rather live in. Walking down Oxford Circus the only thought running through my head was "Get me the HELL out of here." To be fair I guess it was a Saturday, but lord, the fumes alone was enough to make me sick. I think I've forgotten what it's like to live in a city. St. Andrews is so much more calm and easy. Not to mention has a much higher quality of air.



So I ran from Oxford Circus, through Leicester Square as quickly as I could and ducked into the National Gallery, my home away from home in London. I made it half an hour before the gallery closed but was able to visit some of my favourite paintings.



Despite what I just said above, things like this is why I love London. (outside the National Gallery)



After being kicked out of the gallery I took a stroll through St. James's Park and sat and watched the ducks and the people. I felt a bit like a homeless person to be honest.







Here is a shot down Villiers Street. A special request made by Sea. I nearly forgot and had to make my way back up here from Westminster.



Then the waiting at the airport began. Luckily I had the flyest mullet in Hounslow West to keep me entertained. (note the covert extra zoomed shot, I'm sure this is what my parents thought I would be using my camera for when they bought it for me)



Finally. Mullet guy was failing to keep my entertained after an hour.



I guided them to the tube and we made it safe and sound to their hotel, The Royal National Prison. The place was like a fortress of cells for unlucky tourists. The room contained only two single beds but Ryan graciously gave up his for me. It was only 6 in the evening for Dad and Ryan when I begged them to go to sleep, then I passed out.

You Heart the Eighties, I Get It...

Is it me or is eighties referencing and nostalgia getting a bit old? I mean I get it, the Members Only jackets irony, the music revival, the deep affection for The Breakfast Club but honestly people, get a new groove, look ahead a bit, be innovative and original for once because if I read the words "flux capacitor" on one more blog I think I'm going to go insane.

"Who the Hell Do You Think You Are?"

Yesterday was the Kate Kennedy Procession.



St. Andrew was there.



As were men playing bagpipes.



And, by god, even more men playing bagpipes.



This dude showed up looking for booze and fast women. So I helped a brotha out by pointing him in the direction of the Kate Kennedy Bitches.



And I don't know who the hell he thinks he is but those are some smashing tights.



Ralph Covino dressed up as somebody religious, talking softly and carrying a big stick*.



And Vlad wore a bit of rouge in honour of the first drag queen rector.



Mary Queen of Scots (actual Queen).



Horse drawn carriage (actual horse)



carrying some guy who re-enacted being beaten the shit out of in the middle of the street (note Kate Kennedy Bitches in the back, wearing all black with red ribbons in their hair wishing that they could be an American Sorostitute just like they see in those big Hollywood movies).



Two students looking like a tartan shop threw up on them.



The first woman graduate.



And some dude named Bobby Jones.



Later that evening we celebrated Dawn's birthday by eating cake and



making balloon animals. (Gemma, looking pretty chuffed, and Carol)



We succeeded in only making balloons in the shape of rude objects.



And one mildly amusing hat. (Daniel, pleased as punch)

*That is the only historical quote I can ever remember and lo and behold I have used it TWICE today. It is also my personal ambition to one day own a big stick.

Foregone Conclusions

This morning I noticed that my bathroom door squeaks to the first notes of Peter and the Wolf.

Ever since the time change I have been living an hour off actual time.

I am only slightly above average, no matter what the effort. AKA: I Hate The Ship and all that it stands for.

Last night while fighting sleep and trying to fall into it I found it ironic that I never want to sleep but enjoy it so much.

This past Sunday I took a blustery walk on the beach. A very strange breeze was blowing off the shore, pushing me towards the waves. It felt unnatural and wicked, like I was caught in a battle between the wind and water.

The sand rushing to meet the sea and children playing in the freezing water with their wellies on.

Himalayas Golf on the Old Course.

Happy Birthday Sheb!

Hope you have a rockin 24th year!

Friday Night in NYC

Hey! I know you!

Came across this picture of Betty and Ranise (no idea who the girl in white is) from Friday night's Stolen Transmission party in NYC. Lookin good ladies.

Windswept

The last few days St. Andrews has been beautiful.

Just windy as fuck.

In an exciting new game I would like to present the above picture as the first in a series called: "What the Hell is That?" This one I actually know the answer to since I'm the one who bought it. It's a cucumber, but that ain't no American cucumber let me tell you. Why Tesco insisted on individually wrapping them in plastic is beyond me as well. I mean seriously, what a waste.

In other news, I finished my ship paper. It is pretty mammoth but chock full of interesting information I think. I'm just glad to have it done really and this weekend I am going to keep it easy and perhaps read a book that doesn't have to do with art. ::gasp::

Not Too Far to Go

Finally finished my research proposal today and am nearly done with my Ship paper which, like most of what I write, is either utter genius or utter rubbish. All I need is a couple of more days to iron it out and add about a thousand more words.

So now I am up at Steve's flat not thinking about that long scary walk back to my bed and taking advantage of his cable.

All Alone With a Shitload to Do

Nearly everyone I know has left St. Andrews. It's true. They've gone off for conferences and skiing and saunas and here I sit in an empty office doing work on the most gorgeous Saturday in months. Sad. But weep not for me. Well, maybe a little. So this week expect various pictures of things around my town with no real semblance of a story because, well, there probably isn't one.



On Tuesday, before the last of the exodus, I stopped by the Central after the office for a couple (um or four) pints with Steve, Jamie and various others. I recall having very deep conversations, stumbling to Tesco for something called Gu with Steve and taking the above picture of a very beautiful Sallies bell tower shining like a beacon into the cloudy night.



My office. My desk is the near one.



I agree.