Day Three: The One in Which Genevieve Takes a Shower

Today was only my second full day here in Glasgow, and it's strange because I feel like I've been here for weeks. But that's a good thing.

I went with my flatmate and upstairs neighbor to the gym this evening. Even as much as I've been walking, it was good to do a real workout and blow off some steam. The facilities are nice. And by nice, I mean new equipment and plasma TVs on the wall that play these campy, bizarre Europop videos while you work out.

To the Guy At the Gym in the Cleveland State Shirt Whose Eyes Lit Up When You Saw My 'Beat Michigan' T-shirt: I am sorry I didn't say hello to what was clearly about to be an Ohio bonding moment. Next time, I shall just go up to you and yell, "O-H" and wait for the proper response. I am simply no good at talking to strangers. And, having just worked out, I smelled bad. So that's my excuse. Hang on, Sloopy. Hang on.

The urban legend that says all British showers are shoe boxes with lukewarm water and no pressure is a myth. Because the shower in my room in fantastically hot! This excites me because it's only September and already so very damp and chilly here, the kind that sinks into your bones, and the kind that only a hot shower will cure. The only strange thing about the shower, is that it's just part of the bathroom. It's all one floor. With a big drain. Luckily, there's a lip to prevent water from getting out of the bathroom and onto the carpet, but still. It's a bit of a weird set up.