Saturday, February 28, 2009

Tale from the Pony Express

This morning's mail call was the worst kind of publishing fake-out.

Sitting on the kitchen counter for me when I stumbled into the kitchen to make my coffee were two envelopes: one from my bank (most likely yelling at me to stop buying plane tickets) and one from a magazine whose short fiction competition I entered last month, with a prize of £2,000.

*cue heart pounding*

*cue palms sweating*

Way back in high school, the college application process instilled in me that that thin envelopes are bad (since it only takes a single sheet of paper to reject someone) and thick envelopes are good. Today's envelope was medium-sized. There were clearly multiple sheets of paper in there.

I tried to wait until I was back in my room to rip it open, but only made it as far as the kitchen door.

...and it was a subscription advertisement.

Far too dramatic a way to begin a lazy Saturday.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Ridic.

This is a new low for the airline industry: Ryanair considers charging passengers to pee.

It makes easyJet look like Emirates.

And people ask me why I don't like flying the big yellow plane.

Dumplings, steamed buns, shrimp balls, oh my!

There are times when I love Glasgow so much that I can never see myself leaving, despite the rain and the wind and the stink and the impenetrable accent.

Then there are times when I think that if I'm away from Philadelphia for one second longer, I'll go crazy.

Strangely (fatly?) enough, most of those moments revolve around food. Mainly Mexican and Asian. Within the American expat community in the UK, Mexican food is a holy grail and has taken on mythical status. It does not exist here. There are no local burritos joints, food trucks, taquerias, nada. There are a couple restaurants that call themselves "Mexican," but aren't (they serve tapas. Or fish and chips). And then there's the so called "Mexican" store, which got me really excited when I first moved here, because I thought that if couldn't go buy a burrito, I could at least make one. Except the store isn't so much Mexican as it is a place to buy down-home American goods (Betty Crocker cake mix, A&W Rootbeer, or a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for £7), with some Spanish spices and cans of Jumex lying about. Not really a south of the border culinary one-stop.

Additionally depressing is the lack of Asian food. Most important though is that "Asian" here isn't "Asian" at home. I hear Asian and think Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Southeast Asian. In the UK, "Asian" is Indian. Pakistani. Bangladeshi. Technically correct, but confusing when it comes to asking about restaurants. And there are no good Chinese, Japanese, Korean, etc, restaurants in Glasgow. There's a trendy Korean place near me that's decent, but it's also expensive. That's the problem. All the Asian (C/J/K/SEA) here is expensive. I miss great little neighborhood Chinese places. Cheapy Pho. DIM SUM.

This is not a disorganized rant though. It is a dim sum-specific longing, all brought about by a weekend restaurant discussion over email with my dad. There is (was?) a little down and dirty Chinese restaurant in Philadelphia with not only the best dim sum I've ever had, but some of the best food, period. Lakeside Chinese Deli, at 9th and Race in Chinatown. It is neither a deli nor next to a lake. It's outside sign was smashed. The specials were handwritten and taped on the wall in cardboard. You wondered if the health inspector had ever paid it at visit (clearly, they hadn't). There were maybe ten tables, tops, covered in dingy, plastic tablecloths. The food was heavenly and two people could not only eat, but completely stuff their faces for well under $20 total, tax, tip, everything.
Thanks to http://flickr.com/photos/greyton/ for the image!
I read a rumor recently that Lakeside closed, and it hurt my little foodie heart. Not only was the food amazing, but the woman who owned it was a gem. While I know there are lots of great Chinese places on the same block as Lakeside in Philly's Chinatown, it was hands-down my favorite of restaurants of any food persuasion in any city. It was that good. If the rumor is true, it's a sad reality for dim sum.

I love Glasgow, but I miss living in a good food town. Paris would do though. I'm not sure about the burrito, but I can safely say I had one of the best Thai meals of my life in a little place on a side street in the 11e, with sticky rice that I still daydream about, so I know that if when I move to the City of Light, I'm covered.


Thanks to http://flickr.com/photos/greyton/ for the image!

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Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Hungry.

Glasgow needs a Chipotle.

If I was a businesswoman, I'd franchise one and make bajillions of pounds. But I'm not a businesswoman, so for now, I must suffer without.


Dear People In The States,

Please send guac.

Love,

Me

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After a week of mild temperatures and sunny skies, dismal rain and insane wind has returned to Glasgow. Maybe not as dismal as in weeks past, but in comparison to the how nice it's been recently, the damp just sucks. And that is my most eloquent assessment of the situation.

I've got about four weeks to go until my Big March Trip '09. On the surface, it's a week in Belgium and then two weeks back Stateside. In reality, it's a very long initial day of travel (Glasgow to Paris, connecting in Amsterdam, and then a seven hour layover in Paris, before a train trip to Mons), followed by a train trip back to Paris the following week, a Paris-Dulles flight, then my two weeks back home, and then a ridiculous trip back to Scotland, that sees me going Dulles-Paris, Paris-Amsterdam, Amsterdam-Glasgow. It is a ridiculous, ridiculous string of connections, but this is what happens when I booked the whole trip under one big multi-city ticket for cheap with the fine folks at Orbitz.

The trip is especially on my mind today because of this morning's plane crash in Amsterdam. Just last night, in a burst of airplane geekery (which I have relatively often) I was jotting down on my itinerary the models of planes I'm flying for each leg of the journey, and got (again, geekily) excited that my AMS-CDG flight is on a B737-800, which I don't get to fly on frequently. I normally end up on the older model 737s without the pretty little winglets. But anyway, the Turkish Airlines flight was indeed a 737-800. I realize there is zero correlation between the tragic Turkish flight today and my flight next month. Hundreds upon thousands of 737s of all generations must go in and out of Schiphol everyday. And safely. But still. Flight itself isn't logical. Why should I be? I feel it's okay for me to be momentarily irrational in situations like these.

But let's face it. All of this talk of airplanes and weather is just a stalling tactic on my part. The gods of motivation have not been kind to me during Term Two and it's harder and harder to focus. Apparently though it's a disease that's contagious, because friends in postgrad programs across the spectrum are reporting the same kind of academic burnout and lethargy lately. I think that's what happens when you cram a program that should be two or three years long into one tiny 12 month period. You hit late February and want to close the laptop and just go lie on a beach.

I am being an especially bad academic this week. I signed up for a conference in Belfast next weekend, checking off the "pay upon arrival" option, and then forgot to book a flight or a hotel room. Now the flights are expensive and I have no desire to go to Northern Ireland in a few days. I am playing conference hooky. Shameful, I know.

Monday, February 23, 2009

No mushy peas?

The weather this week continues to be lovely: mid-50°s and sunny, though as I type, the clouds are rolling in. Still, the sense that spring is coming is definitely present and crocuses (croci? Croqui?) are all over the park. It makes life here so much more pleasant.

Gym culture here in the UK is just strange compared to the US. For as much crap as people give us for being one of the fattest nations on earth, we're also some of the most gym-obsessed and we don't mess around when it comes to working out. It's not quite the same level of hardcore here, and I still can't get over the fact that the majority of women I see at the gym (women in their 20s, mainly) working out in non-workout clothes. Some of them work out in regular bras, tank tops that you'd wear as clothing, and some kind of non-workout pants. I'm not being judgey; it genuinely looks uncomfortable. The concept of "girls sports" is definitely not the same here as it is in the States, where we've made sure to work the hell out of Title IX and large percentages of girls and women are big time athletes. It's just a different mentality with women and working out. You work out because it's "healthy." It has nothing to do with sports. It's weird.

On the most un-gymmy note ever: Walkers' new Fish & Chips flavored crisps are disgusting. And I am normally all about my flavored crisps. Give me ketchup, prawn cocktail, roast chicken, cheese and onion, or grilled steak, and I'm a happy camper. But these are just horrible! They're part of the new "Vote for Your Favorite" of six new varieties that Walkers has rolled out. To be fair, I haven't tried any of the others to see if they are equally as disgusting. And the Cajun Squirrel flavor is for real. It is safe to say that as curious as I am about it, I'm not curious enough to actually try it. Maybe one night after last call at the pub, Cajun Squirrel crisps will seem like a good idea, but right now I think I'll pass.

I really like Kelly Clarkson's new album. Two very enthusiastic thumbs up.

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Friday, February 20, 2009

The tree outside of my window is apparently blooming. It's February. Is this normal for this time of year in Glasgow or is it just God huggin' us closer?

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Schrier, out!

Today is the first Friday in a very long time that I've had nothing due. Not even a short assignment. It's a very strange sense of freedom, and I've celebrated in the most lazy of ways by sleeping in, sitting in my pajamas all morning, and slowly consuming a pot of coffee. I normally have a rule that on days I don't have class, I still have to be "up and dressed" by 9am. But it's been a grueling second term so far, and so I'm allowing myself a pass today.

In another episode of The Continuing Expansion of Genevieve's Cultural Knowledge, I'm attending my first ever Fassenacht party this evening, which seems to be kind of like German Mardi Gras. I was told I had to wear a costume.

On a far more serious note, I hadn't realized until coming to Scotland just how big the whole Catholic/Protestant divide is. There are times here when it feels like it's this mythical thing that people allude to, and other times it actually feels like the 1960s in the south. Because the religious split is the main form of prejudice in Scotland. People might say, "Scots don't like the Asian immigrants!" but that's really quite small. What it is in Scotland is that Protestants don't like Catholics and Catholics don't like Protestants, and everyone talks about it. It is a big deal here to be Catholic. To the point where I am slightly uncomfortable thinking about walking home from Mass on Wednesday evening with ashes on my forehead. I'm probably completely blowing it all out of proportion. However, after last week's Old Firm match, Rangers fans are being accused by the SPL of singing sectarian chants towards Celtic, with a possible fine or points-docking for the club, it's in my mind again just how big a deal it is. It's just mindboggling that there is so much outward bigotry. In the States, we cover it all up under veils of political correctness! Racism and prejudice behind closed doors only!

On a far less serious note, I've found I can stream TV from the States and watch American Idol LIVE, which means that A) I will not be subject to evil spoilers on the internet, and B) I am very, very tired the next day. But it is oh so worth it.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Tuesday.

Walking to my neighborhood Tesco Express yesterday afternoon, I realized that there were three new cafe/restaurant/bars on the section of Argyle Street, in between my street and the PC World (why can't the rest of the world use the all-encompassing "Resto-bar" like the Quebecois do?). I haven't even made a dent in most of the older places yet, let alone some of these shiny new ones.

Credit crunch, my foot. Glasgow's West End is still hopping.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Oh, Baxter, you are my little gentleman. I'll take you to foggy London town...

Since it seems impossible for me to stay still, this weekend was a quick jaunt down to London. A 6:30am flight down to Heathrow on Saturday morning, then a 6pm train back up on Sunday. Blink, and you miss it. Still, the change of scenery is always nice.

I like London. A lot. The problem is that I don't like it as much as I like Paris. One of the reasons that I love Paris (oh why, oh why do I love Paris?) so much is because it is a ridiculous city. It is a city that operates on pure emotion and passion and romanticism. It's not always logical. It's not always convenient. But I get that, because I am rarely logical or convenient. I like the ridiculousness of Paris, how everything must be beautiful and delicious. In London, things are much more reserved and British. Which is fine. That can be good too. But when comparing the two major world cities, I do prefer Paris. And if I am going to spend ungodly amounts of money to live in one of them, it's going to be Paris. Bang for your buck. Euphoria for your euro.

Not that I'm moving to Paris. I'm not. I'm just saying.

We learned that if you walk around the Harrod's food hall on Valentine's Day (and maybe this is every day, I don't really know), you can receive many, many free chocolate samples. They also were peddling macarons samples, and while they weren't Keebler cookies, they were just okay. Maybe they would have been great had I not just had Gerard Mulot macarons last month. I was left unimpressed and unwilling to pay for prepackaged, not freshly-baked ones.

(This was not supposed to turn into a LONDON vs. PARIS, ULTIMATE SHOWDOWN. I love London! I do! I just love Paris more. Also, I fear this entire blog is shifting from "GENEVIEVE IS GETTING HER MASTER'S IN CREATIVE WRITING IN GLASGOW," and turning into "1,001 REASONS GENEVIEVE LOVES PARIS." Which is bad. The blogosphere is completely oversaturated with blogs of expats in Paris. Not that there's a dearth of blogs of whiny grad students abroad either, but still.)

We went out for dinner on Saturday night, to a nice little place near our hostel in Kensington. I had lamb, and it was excellent. So was the Chilean cab. The food and the wine on Saturday night were two huge pluses of the trip!

From this weekend:


Sunrise over the Midlands from 37,000 feet.




Myself, K, and J in front of the Victoria Fountain.




Look kids, it's Big Ben.


It is in the 50°s here today, and while I am thankful for the mild temperature, there is something about the air and the gray and the wind today that feels like Ocean City in late October and it's making me a little homesick.



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Wednesday, February 4, 2009

The weather outside is frightful...

So well into Term 2, we finally received our grades for our Term 1 portfolios today. It's a bit nervewracking, to have my entire grade for my first two classes be decided by one large piece of work. I did pretty well: a 17 (B1) for one and a 15 (B3) for the other. And I have to say, I'm thrilled. Grading here isn't like in the States. "A" grades are very seldom given out (I've heard rumors of entire classes of no one receiving anything in the "A" category), so to get a mark at the top of the "Bs" is pretty damn good. That puts me in the "upper second class honors" range for now, which I can definitely live with, and also makes it possible for me to still confidently apply for PhD programs.

It's been a snowy week here on this side of the pond. Perhaps you've seen the reports on the news of the snow that's costing the government over £5 billion? The reports of the UK's death have been greatly exaggerated. 6 - 8 inches of snow does not a blizzard make. Here in Glasgow, it's been very snowy for the past few days, but random bursts of sun and rain keep making it disappear. Only to have it start snowing again.

Still, campus in the snow looks eerily like Hogwarts. Or more so than campus usually does.

Also, I'm out of my favorite chapstick and also need to take the GREs, so I'm heading back stateside for two weeks in April. It just so happens I'll be back for Easter, Passover, the NHL playoffs, and the start of the MLB season. In between test-taking and chapstick purchasing, I plan to attend many sporting events and eat a lot. Who needs Cancun when you can hit up the Baltimore suburbs? And I am not being sarcastic.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

From Russia, without love.

We are fulfilling our civic duty as Americans tonight and heading down to the Sports Cafe on Sauchiehall to watch the Superbowl. Only I could not care less about it. I may be a superjock, but I cannot seem to scrounge up an ounce of emotion about this game. And to make matters more bleak, while we'll get the Fox feed of the actual game, they don't show the commercials. What is the point of the Superbowl without commercials?!

I am however digging the dijon dressing I made for my spinach salad.

Also, it is freezing out. Arctic air is blowing in from Moscow, making things here in Glasgow rather unpleasant.