Heart story

Scotland. Outskirts of Edinburgh's Old Town where only students and locals live. Wrapped in a heated blanket by the window in my dorm room. Dreaming about future adventures here with him. Fixing to send him an email, telling him how Excited I am for us to explore once he gets here. In my inbox there are requests to join a weird thing called Facebook, when the Amnesty International protest will be held (I don't understand Scottish politics quite yet, but I'll still go), sailing society meet up information, and one from Aryan Society. My flat mates signed me up for that last one as a joke.... they're a rowdy lot. Back to emailing him. He's looking for a job out here to be with me. He's smart enough. Borderline genius. It should be easy for him. I click on a browser tab to look for flats for rent and decide to just call him. I have my prepaid calling card number memorized now. It's still a hassle though. Misty, windy Arthur's seat, an extinct volcano, outside my window. Brooding 1800s St. Leonard's Hall partially blocks it. I feel like I'm looking at a painting but this is real. I can't believe this city will be my home for 4 years. Soot stained limestone. Rain on my window. Condensation.I go on jaunts and adventures outside but return to my cozy heated blanket inside. I have a 2-song playlist of arcade fire's "cold wind" and the Beatles "Eleanor Rigby" on repeat. I'm obsessed with it. Seems fitting. It's autumn so the leaves outside are beginning to fall onto the soggy ground that is still holding onto the purple summer blooms of heather and thistle. Red squirrels the size of cats collecting nuts hop around. They remind me of spritely, mini harry cows or "harry coos". People walk by going wherever it is they go. They all look so British with their tweeds and wellies. Prepared for the Wet windy weather. My favorite are the old men with caps. They're the nicest, too. I've started to gain my freshman 15 from whole milk chai tea, Cadbury chocolate, Jaffa cakes, and my daily Scottish Cranachan. It's misty outside and the famous hill climbers go up the craggy ancient volcano to perform their Druid rituals for the Autumn equinox. I really should be studying. I have a stack of sketches about botanicals from an early class session at the Edinburgh royal botanical gardens. Also notes about world cultures and heritage identity, about the brain and even one about suicide. These are for my classes this semester. They all sit on my desk. Forgotten. There are more important things to attend to right now. I get a knock on my door. It's my flat mates telling me they are about ready to leave for the autumn Ceilidh at Teviot, a building older than my country, which still blows my mind. The cab is ready. I tell them I'll catch up. Honestly, I prefer walking and taking in all of the architecture even if I have to bundle up. Graveyards are my favorite. So many of them. I like to walk through them and find the oldest ones I can and imagine what their lives were like. My flat mates are from Europe and Asia and think it's "cute" that I get so excited over old things. Together they represent England, Thailand, Germany, France, Belgium, and Scotland... all places I have visited or spent summers at so I earned some credibility with them. They are all leery of Americans and want to talk politics all the time. Darn you George Bush! Only one person is from Scotland. I have more friends here that aren't Scottish than are. I find that amusing. Apparently the University of Edinburgh is more international. The Scottish students mostly go to nearby Napier. They view our school as full of English "toffs" and posh. There is still a deep seeded resentment of the English. My mates are posh and well educated but not a toff in the lot. I really already have a love for them. They leave and I spend another hour on the phone with him. Oh, him. I know I'll have fun dancing and drinking at the ceilidh. I love the Scottish folk music, dancing, and mystical stories told, but for now, I want to be with him.