My whole body is shakey, my breath’s a bit shallow and every possible joint in my being aches, especially my jaw.
I’m just having a hard time with someone leaving.
Maybe I just need sleep.

These blog entries are getting harder and harder to write. I admire those who keep journals.
I wake up way later than I should’ve allowed myself to and roll out of bed and take a morning walking tour.
I think each entry will now talk about how every tour guide in my opinion is cute. Maybe it’s just me, but he was really cute. (I’ve got problems.)
The tour was really good. Really well done and the guy was funny and friendly (I think that’s the charm).
I went into a smoothie place thay was Hawaiian themed and called Hula, only to be disappointed that the owner just liked the pacific islander theme. I just left promptly.
Went out to a pub right after with a few tourists and the tour guide. I didn’t get the bartender’s attention so I could pay. Second awkward phase of the day.
Visited the National Museum and the natural history display was so beautiful, I kinda cried. The I was shocked. Shocked still. They had a whole room about pacific islands. Cue more almost crying. I mean really, thay museum has left me mentally and emotionally distraught. In a great way.
Have dinner in the same pub as before and have fish and chips. Then I remembered why I just don’t really enjoy fish and chips. Also I was really confused as to why there were so many people there until I realized it was Friday. I felt terrible awkward again. Eating alone. It was fine the day before, but now the place was packed with jeering drunk people.
Went and had an Irish coffee in the Elephant House and read. It was wonderful.
I walked right up and chatted to who I thought was the tour guide from that morning (I knew that he was going to do the ghost tour that night) abd then realized that I had mixed up the two tour guides that I had had. Embarrassed. They were standing right next to each other. I just kind of side-stepped back to my hostel.
The ghost tour ends up at the same pub every night at the same time. I met up with the same three girls from the day tour in a pub. I’m terrible. I can’t remember their names for the life of me. I do these entries as to not forget names and such. I’ve already forgotten and it’s just been over 12 hours. Two from Finland and one from Alberta. Then was joined by Simon, who had gone on the ghost tour the night after me.
Great time, switching pubs. Awkward when half of the party wanted to sleep and the other wanted late-night conversation. So awkward that I decided not to offer my contact information in the end. They just really wanted to get out of there and into their warm beds.
It’s 3am. I am going to kick myself in the morning.
My foot hurts so bad.

This is the most well rested I’ve ever observed myself in a mirror. I don’t remember being this well rested in forever. When just a month ago, I forgot to write a post about how my years of intentional insomnia and endurance was really starting to show on my face for once.
The guy who worked at the front desk was really cute and had a nice smile. Sounded friendly. Too bad I never spoke to him other than the time I checked out.
I was really disappointed that I didn’t catch you fast enough, hitchhiking Harry Potter fan who hadn’t even heard of Pottermore yet, before you left and checked out to catch your next bus. I really did want to give you my contact information, but that I realize that you meet hundreds of people while traveling every day. It’s just that each and every person you meet is so innately unique that I want to know who they are, their story, and what will happen to them in the future (which can only be done by keeping current with them). Each person is like a new book. I’m an odd one, I know.
I passed a station named Ladybank and I absent-mindedly thought, “I would put my money in that bank, if you know what I mean.” I thought it so nonchalantly. I crack myself up.
I get to Edinburgh and visit the childhood museum. Cool beans. Go on a walk and have scottish lamb stew with a glass of whisky.
There was a store called Thistle Do.
I had a Subway salad and just thought to myself, “How bad can I be.” Note to everyone: subway sandwiches have nothing to do with the lorax.
I was going to do a pub crawl but then decided that it’s way too expensive to get drunk and get dragged along by other smashed people. So instead, I take a ghost tour and one, may I add, that was actually funny. Also the guy was asking for tickets and I told him that I didn’t have one and he said, “Oh you paid. Though, my short-term memory isn’t so great, but my long-term memory is excellent. You know, so I can tell you guys these ghost stories.” And he just left. I also thought the guide was cute, but that’s beside the point.
Met Kristin and Bart and had a drink with them (free with the tour) where the banter turned to Canadians, schools, more Canadian things.
My right foot is cramped and my left knee clicks.

Woke up. Pouring out. Amazing. Go to the information center and buy a tour for the loch ness, castle ulquhart, and the nessie museum. I leave; wander and pretty much do all the things in the city in an hour.
I come back to the information center after, just walk behind it to make sure I know where the National museum and art gallery is. The same guy I saw an hour earlier who sold me my tour ticket, is taking out the trash in the back. Awkward greetings ensue.
The entrance to the museum is just next to a small parking lot, dumpsters, and only has that one road out (the one I walked up on).
The tour is brilliant and the guide is hella friendly. It pours the whole trip and I don’t give a fuck. In fact, it makes me giddy. I love rain.
I stand on the deck and take pictures, only to come down because I don’t want my skin to literally freeze. Tons of people dance to Scottish music on the actual boat. Tourists.
I really do frolick, adventure and skip through every possible inch in the castle ruins. If I only come here once, I’m not going to miss anything. People watch this adult woman, who looks like a twelve year old boy, skip and prance and climb all over the place by herself in the pouring rain with a huge grin on her face. I was soaked and was so happy. I was the only one there without a raincoat and umbrella.
They sold whisky marmalade.
The nessie museum was really cool. Lighting and all.
I had such good haggis.
Went to a claymation and Wallace and Gromit exhibition. So good. The national museum and art gallery is really well done. Loved it.
I wandered every street and alley-way I could find then went on a walk with a roomie, Frankie, through the Ness isles. Little ornate bridges connect the few islands in the river. We found a forgotten playground that can’t even be seen by the road. It had a miniature train track with colourful elephants amd hippos along the way in the little forest. It was pretty magical; the place.
We traced the tracks and they even overlapped by bridge. A bunny came out and hopped across the small track. That made everything dreamy and magical for me. My partner didn’t seem to think so. Rabbits in woods just are. It’s not a thing you see in Hawaii. It’s just an image I associate with dreams and magic.
We walked back in the rain and I was soaked for the third time that day. My left knee clicked and moved in a weird way constantly on the way back. I stopped putting as much weight on it. Probably not a good sign.
I ran into the same 3 French people all day long.
Then I chillaxed and tumbled.

So I don’t get shocked or surprised very often, but recently, I was on a bus to the airport listening to my phone and Descend came on. I got such chills. I couldn’t even believe. Then I just regarded Homestuck fondly and realized that today, the 25th, is the six month anniversary of the 1025 event. My brain just stalled. Like how a computer would and my jaw literally dropped. Really. It dropped. Other passengers must have been staring. But I was so shocked that I completely forgot where I was and what I was doing. My mind just was blank. Completely. Like a virus had hit it.
Has it really been that long? Holy shit. I just lost it. Wtf. How was this even possible. I started Homestuck about a year and a half ago (almost 2 years ago if you count me just looking up all the Homestuck porn before I even knew what it was).
The only things I could think about purely as sentences were, Where’s the time gone? and Homestuck is really something I hold dear in a way.
And then I remembered that I was catching a flight.

thedailywhat:

Lunchtime Links:

Today on The Daily What Geek: Pixar unveils its movie lineup through 2015

Elsewhere on the Internets:

• Found: The best police scanner you aren’t following
• Created: A parody Twitter account of Pinterest, with words-only descriptions of pins
• Broken down: The disastrous rescue attempt during the Iranian Hostage Crisis
• Crowned: Beyonce, as People’s Most Beautiful Woman 2012

Lunchtime Leisure: Memento XII (via)
Lunchtime List: 21 Mind-Blowing Photos That Capture The Exact Moment Of Impact
[image: thanks, gia!]

So i get all my fucking paperwork done and print my holiday bookings that morning. Make myself an amazing lunch. When I get to Bristol airport, the cashier in WH Smith stares at me multiple times. Repeatedly. Even when I’m in a different shop.
Does it make you nervous when there are cops in the airport with giant guns? Yeah, me too.
The flight attendant. She looked like she absolutely loathed her job. And everyone in the airplane. Reminds of that phrase that flight attendants say: “Your trash.” when it sounds like “You’re trash.” She had to demonstrate where the exits were and how the life jacket worked. They cut off the recording about what to do in an emegency from the shoddy intercom early. I think i saw the flight attendant smirk. Ever so slightly.
Had a really friendly cabbie. He was gray-haired and grumbled absent-mindedly. Or more or less. If it was anything like a grumble, it would be a grmb. Not yet a full grumble. Anyway, he told me about his short, portly friend in Stroud who was once hypnotized and ran around on all fours like a dog chasing a cat in only his tighty-whiteies. The cabie gave me a discount of 30 pence less.
My bed’s name is Brogues and the lady at reception told me that it’s made out of old men’s kilts.
Walked into my room and 5 minutes later someone else walked in and asked if I wanted to go to the pub. Amazing pub. Met lotsa great people. Ebba, Lauren, Mira, Lena, Eliesha.
Then we all had hot chocolate and tried to figure out the showers. (They were like closets, but with shower heads in them.

the-absolute-funniest-posts:

Dirk: In my universe you fought against the apocalypse and you made movies based upon comics you wrote.
Dave: in my universe you ran a website for puppet smut
Dirk:
Dave:
Dirk:
Dave:
Dirk:

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