The End

I took my first of two exams today. My philosophy test went well, and I'm hoping my Italian test tomorrow will be just as good. I resent them, though, because they - plus a 10-page paper - have kept me busy for my final week and a half in Edinburgh. Yes, for the last week and a half, I have spent most of my time sitting in my room and doing work. While many of my friends finished all their work and exams last Friday, I have been sitting here staring at my computer for hours on end, trying to memorize Zeno's Dichotomy, writing about Richard II and Jonson's court masques, and trying to re-learn the basics of a language within the space of a week. I will always regret that I haven't had the chance to truly enjoy my last few days here.

I have done one thing this week. We went out for a goodbye dinner on Tuesday night, because two of the people from our group of friends left on Wednesday. We got 18 people together at an Italian restaurant right next to the Elephant House Cafe (where JK Rowling started writing Harry Potter), and down the road from the corner of George IV Bridge and the Royal Mile (where I believe they used to behead people).

Quick side note: I learned while trying to check that second fact that Mary, Queen of Scots was beheaded exactly 400 years before I was born, to the day. Maybe I am Mary reincarnated.

Anyway, back at the Italian restaurant, they gave us all Christmas crackers. These are paper tubes that you and a friend pull apart together, and they make a huge noise. They always have a toy inside, as well as a crown made of tissue paper and a joke. I don't know why the Brits wear tissue paper crowns on Christmas. Maybe they all want to be royalty, but don't have the money to commission the creation of a real crown.

We returned to the flat, where Christine, Eve, Anna, Kate, and I did our flat Secret Santa. I had Christine, the American, and I gave her a Scottish flag and a teddy bear dressed in full Scottish military uniform, kilt, hat and all. Eve had me, and she gave me three bottles of whiskey from the Wee Whiskey Shop on the Royal Mile (I'm not sure that they even add up to an ounce), a fridge magnet with some Scottish slang for "to be drunk" (steamin' is the main word, but there are others), a "Grow Your Own Perfect Man" which I need to put in water when I get home, some whiskey-flavoured fudge, and a tin of lip gloss. My stocking has "Ainsley Harriott" in iron-on letters.

They call me Ainsley Harriott here, or quite often just Harriott. The real Ainsley Harriott is a big black male chef with his own TV shows and food line. I'm a little white female cook with no TV shows, and no food line. I'm pretty sure I've been called either "Ainsley Harriott" or "Harriott" more times since coming here than just "Ainsley". I'm gonna miss these girls.

Tomorrow, I have my Italian final and spend my last few hours in Edinburgh, then Saturday morning I get on a plane at 9 AM GMT and hit Columbus around 7 PM EST. That is, of course, being optimistic... as long as the snow isn't too bad in Columbus I'll be back on time.

I don't want to get on that plane. At the same time, though, I'm excited to get back to Wooster. I've got a lot of people excited to see me again, making plans already about what we can do next semester to make up for lost time.



The past three months have been the experience of a lifetime. I'm gonna miss it.