At this point in my stay at Strathclyde, I was getting very invested in the people. Hence the title of this whole series. I mean, Glasgow itself portrayed the banners all around the city. In the West, Center, and even the East. I was also steadily involving myself with what appeared to be the stereotypical ‘freshman experience’. But you see – I had never experienced this ridiculous, wild side of myself before. So it was quite fun to experiment with my possibilities and opportunities. Even if it had only been 2 weeks since I’d landed in the land of the brave, true, and the rain.
The day after the wild club night where unspeakable things happened, I followed my flatmates and fellow Pomona friend to the famous Glasgow Necropolis. It was very conveniently located behind Strathclyde. This beautiful structure before you was just one part of it – we weren’t even at the graveyard yet. Just you wait. The beauty only got better.
The snow was a day or two old, but the air was bitter cold. Though the sun was out. A decent number of names and dates were so old, that even though they were carved in stone, I couldn’t even attempt to read them. I waltzed among the trees and gravestones as my flatmates and friend engaged in a rather unnecessary snowball fight. But I didn’t let them spoil my own private fun.
We stayed until the unveiled sunshine began to disappear beneath the hills. I particularly love this picture because of the way the fading sun cast magnificent shadows across all the tombstones, so that they looked like silhouettes. It was probably about 3.30 p.m. We were still into late January, so the sun was barely awake this far north. Up at 8 and down again at 4.
The following week, I was invited out to what was called a Pub Golf outing. One of my newly acquired Scottish friends from Arthurian Legends, the girl on the left, in fact, was going with all of her Scottish friends and so of course, naturally, I was invited, too. The middle guy was in my Order and Nature in Renaissance Writing course as well and had been one of my first friends here. Pub Golf is a massive bar hopping event where you must dress up as a ‘golfer’ or you will automatically get points taken off. You also hit 9 pubs in one night. You know, like a small round in golf. Apparently they had even crazier events here called Sub Crawls, where you got off at every stop on the subway to get a pint. I didn’t dare try that one yet however. This night was yet another one where I surprised myself. It was a blast and I managed to survive. Didn’t even black out or anything. Though I did end up kissing yet another boy – 3 in 2 weeks. Definitely a record for me, at least.
By the end of the second week, I had broken a boy’s heart, ditched another one, and kicked the third out of my flat without his socks. Naturally, I needed a girl’s night. So here I was – invited out for the third time with another of my newly acquired Scottish friends. She’s not pictured here because we didn’t have any good club selfies. Once again, naturally. This one was a random gem. And this girl remains an amazing individual who helped my experience foster into one I would never forget. Next time, I’ll picture the lovely lass who invited me out, considering she’s still one of my best friends. The four of us hit a pub first, where we ranted about feminism and all its glory, shared 4 pitchers of alcohol, then I proceeded to get nachos at The Counting House and impress this lovely lass here with my love of Irn Bru and finally, we hit the club. The Garage, it was called. The one I had meant to go to last Friday. Long story there. The night ended up being perfect and just what I needed.
Peace. Cheers. Love. xx
Day 6 to come next week.