Revamp – Day 1

Hello everyone —

So I know it’s been a while (I have this unfortunate issue of falling off the bandwagon of these things), but here I am, back at it.

Only this time, I’d like to try and do weekly features of my own writing; whether that be excerpts from my most recent chapters, or even most recently edited chapters, a poem I wrote years ago when I was angry at boys, or even just a quick response to one of the daily prompts this lovely site provides.

The thing is, I initially started this blog because I was depressed for a couple years and felt I had fallen out of my writing. You know when you’re forced out of a country because of an expired visa and you feel you don’t belong in a place where you don’t really love anyone?

Yeah…That was my ass. But the good news is I was able to make it back to that lovely country where I found love and hope and friendship. Well I’ve been here about two months and already found that again. In a manner of speaking…And what do you know, depression gone!

As a Masters of Fantasy student at the University of Glasgow, I do find it ironic knowing I had spent this entire blog focused on regaining this sense of connected-ness, or perhaps even closure, about a place and things I had felt I’d lost.

So, without further ado, here is my revamp of an old poem I wrote that, now that I look back on it, is more than ironic. It is pure hilarious. Written about a boy I had met before I’d left, and now that I’ve returned, replaced by yet another one, who, conveniently, fits right into the stanzas. Except for the green eyes and the ‘don’t leave me’ parts, of course.


Green eyes in the dark,
Standing tall, fading arch –
I’ve always loved the dark-haired boys
With their smiles and their noise.

Please stay with me.
You’ve set me free.

Small smile in the night,
Fingers reaching toward the light.
It’s always been you,
You have to know true.

Please stay with me.
Don’t you see?

Driving your car at half past 3,
Reaching the place where you leave me.
I can’t go, I have to stay –
But it’s only me who had to walk away.

Please stay with me
I’m your wee jolie.

Lingering with the sunset,
Owing you my forever debt;
Shining in your eyes,
Dying when the plane flies.

Please stay.


Day 3

Yes, I know, this post came much quicker than the last one, didn’t it? Anyway, à jour trois…


So, to start, there’s something strangely magical about these guys. And no, it’s not their beards. Many years ago now, I went to the London 2012 Olympics and my family and I shot up here, to Glasgow, so we could make use of Central Station. We were heading to Edinburgh, naturally. Well — these lads were here that first time, playing in this exact same spot. Then, come the first day I’m making my way back up Buchanan Street for this second jaunt across the pond in 2015, and here they are again. Greeting me like last time. It was rather an odd coincidence, I must say. Good thing I don’t believe in coincidences.

What I would do differently? This time, I’ll make sure to buy one of their CDs. If only for aesthetic appeal because my computer no longer has a disc drive…


I know what you’re thinking: “She’s going to say that next time she won’t be a stereotypical American and take a picture next to a telephone booth.” WRONG. This next time, I WILL take ANOTHER picture next to a telephone booth, but perhaps I’ll go to the lime green one farther down Buchanan…I used to walk by it all the time when I was headed to Central to meet Sam for riotous outings, or when I was going for a calming walk in the rain. They have free Wifi so I don’t see the point in avoiding them. I don’t care how American it looks – I’m working on embracing that side of myself again, okay? I don’t really like it but what can you do when you fall in love with an American or two…

Check it out:


Pretty great, huh? Makes for a good, nostalgic shot, and with the banners and the rain and the lights…

Day 4 to come soon.

“A few thousand miles and an ocean away, But I see the sunrise, oh, just like the other day, Picture your eyes as I fall asleep, Tell myself it’s all right, oh, as the tears roll by.” -Oceans Away, ARIZONA

Day 2

So, as promised, here is day 2. Not that anyone is reading, but it’s good for my mental health so here we go.


When I arrived in Scotland the first time, I, as you saw in the last post, had 5,000 bags – so, naturally, when I attempted to transport them through the airport, they weighted a ton. I didn’t realize at the time that the luggage carts had to be pushed down at the handle to carry the weight for you. Well – you can guess what I did then. Pushed the whole freakin’ load myself. All the way through the airport. I was sweaty and surely smelly and felt like an idiot. I really had to put my back into it! But I was certain I covered it well. No one commented anyway. Our old family friend Paul didn’t even look disgusted when he hugged me before escorting me into the city.

Anyway, next time, I’ll know to push the handle down before pushing the cart forward. And this next time, that is exactly what I’ll do. Maybe this next time, I’ll even hold off on scoffing at how fake the sunshine looks in this photo. (It really is a rare occurrence, folks).


Day 3 to be posted in the next few days!


“You’re dripping like a saturated sunrise, You’re spilling like an overflowing sink, You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece, And now I’m tearing through the pages and the ink.” – Colors, Halsey

Day 1

So – I decided to do a thing. For whatever reason, I’ve been trying excessively hard to be doubtful about my upcoming adventure (aka Return To Scotland). I’ve been jealous, lost, uncertain. I know – not nearly as confident as my old Scottish self. And that’s when I realized: I should revisit that person and remember WHY I wanted to return. Because, I mean, it really was a spectacular 6 months.

To fill everyone in: I just graduated from undergrad at Cal Poly Pomona with an English Literature degree. YAY I can certifiably write and read things now! Well, that’s the thing – undergrad wasn’t enough. So I spent an entire year of my life preparing to go to graduate school (specifically the University of Glasgow in Scotland, naturally), applying to scholarships, grants, applications. And yet, when I finally got my acceptance into the Fantasy Literature Masters program, my reaction was rather shocking. I wasn’t ecstatic. I wasn’t relieved. I wasn’t even that proud of myself. Sure, it hadn’t been my initial program, but hey, it was still a similar program, one I would enjoy more and would benefit me more, in fact, and it was still at my dream school. So – what’s the problem? you’re thinking. Funny you should ask because the problem was, well, me. I had talked myself out of it. Convinced myself I could only have one home and that home was no longer in Scotland. Scared myself silly thinking my new California soulmates would abandon and forget about me as soon as I left. Or that I would immediately abandon and forget about them as soon as I got off the plane.

It was PTSD, really. Not to inappropriately use the term, but I really did have a hard time. I’d just overcome a 2-year heartbreak, after all, and I wasn’t quite in the mood to take on another. Life is tiring when you’re constantly breaking your own heart.

So! My decision is this: From now until the day I leave for this journey and kilt-clad adventure round 2, I will post a picture or two (or three heh) from my old Scotland trip and will discuss what I did in that moment, what was special about it, etc, etc, and most importantly, what I will do differently this next time around.

Because, let’s face it, a large part of my heart is still stuck in Scotland and it would be silly to sit here and pretend that is no longer true because things have changed. In five months’ time, I will embark on a journey filled with opportunity for myself, for my writing, for my future, and I have absolutely no excuse to be a bitch about it.

To start off:


I am going to pack WAY better than I did before. What is this shit? Come on – you’ve got to FOLD your small shirts and stuff your sweaters in the corners so they don’t take up so much space. But I guess I wasn’t savvy then. I hadn’t yet embarked on two separate backpacking trips around Europe.


Don’t you children worry, I’ve learned from this mistake as well. It was only a few weeks ago I packed 12 different outfits into that wee duffel bag in the back. The black one? Yeah, that’s right. I did that. So clearly here, I was not that inventive. But I was excited, you know? It was a new environment, a new life, a new scene. I had to bring it all. This time around, I’m only going to bring 18 hangers and will split those between pants and sweaters. Or — trousers and jumpers. See? Already practicing.

It’s going to be a fun year, I can tell you that.


P.S: Some of you may recognize these photos. I swear the content is different though. Trust me. Just keep reading. It’ll be great.



“I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky” – Brave, Touch the Sky