1. I decided on my Halloween costume. Amy Winehouse! Honestly, what is scarier? There was a time in my life when I wore eyeliner just a few strokes short of hers, so it won't be much of a stretch. All I have to do is buy the wig, rat it up, draw on some sick tats, and wear an outfit resembling the chaos of the bins at Victoria's Secret during semi-annual sale time. Score.
2. I discovered the best place to buy bread near my house. I started at Tesco and worked my way out in concentric circles, stumbling at last upon an absolute GEM of a place called Valvona & Crolla. Seriously. Stop reading this instant and go to their website. There is a considerable Italian presence in Scotland, particularly in my neighborhood, and little pasta shops and chippies called "Eatalia" are not uncommon, but I didn't know there was a mothership until today. You have to duck through a little hobbit door to get in, but once you're inside it is a cavernous place. The walls are stacked 30 feet high with all manners of jars and cans; strings of dried peppers and garlic hang amid clusters of copper pots from the ceiling. When Bridget goes to heaven it will probably look like Valvona & Crolla... with Ryan Adams on top of the meat counter, crooning to her in tight jeans.
3. I disassembled the pipes underneath my sink, cleaned them, and put them back together. WHY, I hear you asking. Well, I came home yesterday and made one of the grossest discoveries of my life: a small seed had taken root in the drain and GROWN into a PLANT, which was snaking out of the drain towards the window like the living organism it is. Oh, even writing about it now makes me ill. Furnished apartments are wonderful; you don't have to move couches up stairs, all your worldly possessions can fit into the back of a volkswagen, etc. HOWEVER -- when the person who lived there before you was a dirty rotten filth-lover, you sometimes come home to find living things growing in your sink. Anyways, here is a police sketch artist's rendering of the transgressor. (I'm not sure why the porage is by the sink).
I tried to pull it out but only managed to pull the top off -- it was at that point I realized I had to go in. Turns out pipes are a cinch to pull apart. Who knew? Anyways, I'm proud to say that my pipes are squeaky clean and foliage free.
4. I got in an altercation with a panhandler. Let me preface this with a few important facts: a) there are approximately a million panhandlers in Edinburgh, and they all work on Princes Street b) For the first few months I worked in the city I was incredibly generous to panhandlers. I once gave two pounds to the wandering rasta man for his moving rendition of 'No Woman No Cry' -- that's four dollars! c) the panhandlers probably make more than I do.
Ok, so this man approached me as I was sitting in Princes Street Gardens, soaking up the sunshine and waiting for Nancy to arrive. He wasn't the most eloquent panhandler. In fact, I wasn't sure why he was approaching me until I looked down and saw the cup in his hand. He didn't merely ask for change, opting instead for the latest trend in Edinburgh panhandling: the plaintive whine. I wish I could do justice to this tactic in writing. It is a tone of voice that both shames and accuses you. The first few times I heard it I felt awful and coughed up a few pence, but now it just fills me with unmitigated rage. I smiled and said no, not today, sorry, at which point he sidled closer and pitched his whine even higher. I looked at him and said firmly, NO, but he continued to push forward until his hand was practically under my nose. He was a big guy, too; well fed and wearing nice clothes. It was at this point that something fired in my brain and I stood up and shouted LEAVE ME ALONE (there may have been a swear word intermingled, but my grandmother reads this blog and I know how she feels about that -- it was warranted). A few hours later as I was walking home I thought back to the panhandler and felt guilty about my fierce rebuff. What would I do if my mom was panhandling and someone yelled at her? I would burn their house down, that's what.
Overcome with guilt, I ducked into Tesco to pick up some milk and as I was standing in line I looked over to the left and saw the panhandler in line. In line for liquor counter no less! My whole life people have been telling me not to give money to bums because they will go buy alcohol, and I always thought it was kind of mean to assume that about someone, but NO MORE. I was shocked and appalled. I stared at him with my mouth open, and if a look could light someone on fire then he would have been very badly burned. He bought two huge bottles of Bombay Sapphire and walked out. I can't even afford Bombay Sapphire! So what is the lesson learned from this? Don't give away your money and never trust anyone again ever.
5. I spent a valuable block of time writing this blog entry about plumbing and yelling at the homeless. Yeesh.
