Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Scotland
I have a raging headache, but I must type while I have a computer in my grasp so here it goes, headache and all...
Scotland is like a bottle of Brute cologne...in a deep forest green glass bottle with an ornate gold cap. It is so masculine here it makes my breasts ache. There are about 19 men for every female. I have spent more time in pubs than the first 30 years of my life combined, walked the world's oldest golf course and watched a football game, a rugby game and a cricket game - none of which I have any interest in at all. The mountains are ragged and bare and the Atlantic trashes about aggressive and full of testosterone. Everything is made of stone, stone and more stone and memorials lay everywhere celebrating bloody battles fought and, sometimes, won. I say this all with a smile, because this is not a complaint. In fact, I am loving Scotland. But then again, I love men, being deeply heterosexual, so it all fits.
The people here are so friendly. There has been Jimmy and Jean who drove us home from the airport and Micheal and Elijah, two American Harvard grads studying in St.Andrews, who we just spent two days hanging out with. In Glasgow there was a laughter filled night with Craig, Allan and James who flirted and drank and gave us a wonderful ego stroking. They were none too impressed when I mentioned the existence of Jax, my English lad back home...a bevy of insults were thrown out toward the English in the best of humour. Tonight, Leanne and I soak in beautiful Edinburgh...the Calgary of Scotland to Glasgow's Edmonton. I shant forget Stewart...our wonderful tour guide who took us up to Loch Lomond and the Glencoe area and wore a kilt and was so wonderful sweet and warm I wanted to bear him a child. He took us to Glencoe Lochlan which was built by Lord Strathcona for his homesick Canadian wife. It is a park that is built to look like Canada and wow does it ever. It was like stepping back into BC without having to take an airplane. Being a little homesick myself, I let the suave of its familiarity heal me.
Oh, my headache. Missing Jax like crazy, missing my home like crazy. Excited to venture over to Ireland next and really curious to meet the Atkinsons back in England. Leanne is having some sad days over here and trying her best to stay 'up', but really I think it was best that we booked our tickets home early. My head is also swimming with pictures of Sharmaine's new baby and Jennie's email about Eddie's proposal. Sometimes you want to be happy for people and all you can feel is ... a raging headache. Especially concerning Jennie...sometimes I am not sure I will ever be able to release my anger towards her...an anger that only hurts me the more I hold onto it. The ghosts of Jo and Jen and 2005 haunt me and all I want to do is stay hidden in Europe or run to the darkness of Jax's bedroom and scribble a new chapter with him so quickly and viciously that I will forget the last couple of years even happened.
I must go. Leanne awaits me at a neighboring pub where I think tonight the tone will be more floundering than flirting. It is up and down and up again on this European adventure...
Perhaps the luck of the Irish will be magically delicious?
Perhaps it ain't about luck at all.
Scotland is like a bottle of Brute cologne...in a deep forest green glass bottle with an ornate gold cap. It is so masculine here it makes my breasts ache. There are about 19 men for every female. I have spent more time in pubs than the first 30 years of my life combined, walked the world's oldest golf course and watched a football game, a rugby game and a cricket game - none of which I have any interest in at all. The mountains are ragged and bare and the Atlantic trashes about aggressive and full of testosterone. Everything is made of stone, stone and more stone and memorials lay everywhere celebrating bloody battles fought and, sometimes, won. I say this all with a smile, because this is not a complaint. In fact, I am loving Scotland. But then again, I love men, being deeply heterosexual, so it all fits.
The people here are so friendly. There has been Jimmy and Jean who drove us home from the airport and Micheal and Elijah, two American Harvard grads studying in St.Andrews, who we just spent two days hanging out with. In Glasgow there was a laughter filled night with Craig, Allan and James who flirted and drank and gave us a wonderful ego stroking. They were none too impressed when I mentioned the existence of Jax, my English lad back home...a bevy of insults were thrown out toward the English in the best of humour. Tonight, Leanne and I soak in beautiful Edinburgh...the Calgary of Scotland to Glasgow's Edmonton. I shant forget Stewart...our wonderful tour guide who took us up to Loch Lomond and the Glencoe area and wore a kilt and was so wonderful sweet and warm I wanted to bear him a child. He took us to Glencoe Lochlan which was built by Lord Strathcona for his homesick Canadian wife. It is a park that is built to look like Canada and wow does it ever. It was like stepping back into BC without having to take an airplane. Being a little homesick myself, I let the suave of its familiarity heal me.
Oh, my headache. Missing Jax like crazy, missing my home like crazy. Excited to venture over to Ireland next and really curious to meet the Atkinsons back in England. Leanne is having some sad days over here and trying her best to stay 'up', but really I think it was best that we booked our tickets home early. My head is also swimming with pictures of Sharmaine's new baby and Jennie's email about Eddie's proposal. Sometimes you want to be happy for people and all you can feel is ... a raging headache. Especially concerning Jennie...sometimes I am not sure I will ever be able to release my anger towards her...an anger that only hurts me the more I hold onto it. The ghosts of Jo and Jen and 2005 haunt me and all I want to do is stay hidden in Europe or run to the darkness of Jax's bedroom and scribble a new chapter with him so quickly and viciously that I will forget the last couple of years even happened.
I must go. Leanne awaits me at a neighboring pub where I think tonight the tone will be more floundering than flirting. It is up and down and up again on this European adventure...
Perhaps the luck of the Irish will be magically delicious?
Perhaps it ain't about luck at all.
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