define your destination

I have said this to three people now:
I am in love. I am in bona fide love. I am in love with this place. This nation. These people.

I sit on my dorm bed with my window open, and God sends a little Highland breeze to me from the north, (and for crying out loud, someone started playing the bagpipes outside yesterday) and my heart just slows and speeds up at the same time, and my soul breaks into a million pieces and wants to escape out of me and settle into the trees and the grass and the cragy rocks. Crags, y'all.

Getting here was a little crazy, and the syllabus for my "mega class" still stresses me out, but walking to class (blisters and all) just makes me feel complete. I'm not bouncing-off-the-walls-suddenly-obsessed-with-every-little-thing, but I feel like I know where I am and I am myself here. The food is so expensive  and I am so far from home, but I am so happy! So at peace. It's amazing.

My total nerd roommate Jenna is also great. She dreamed last night that she was trying to escape from samurai and I "led her to India, where we will be safe."

Us in front one of the main, old University of Glasgow buildings.

Today we are going to the old Cathedral and the Necropolis. Every time I say that I also say "the Necromancer" in a really weird old man voice. Not really a Gandalf voice. Just my wizard voice.

I remembered this morning the feeling I got when I finished HP 1-4; it was a literary hangover. I would cry in my bed and pray that if there were really real wizards, could I please be one of them? I feel like that's how I feel about the Britains in general now. There are real British people. Can I please please please please please please please be one of them.

Like, this almost brought me to tears in Marks & Spencer. Sweet Williams! The Union Jack!

Love.