Lang May Yer Lum Reek

Look at me from the side:



Does this mask make my nose look too big?

Mwahahaha. Totally hot, I know - plus BONUS! It seems to be a perfect cover for my movie screen sized forehead. I am such a history dork. It turns out that this is a fine example of a 16th century doctor's plague mask - they would stuff the nose with herbs and spices because they believed that you caught the plague from strong smells. A little pot pourri, and snap! You are safe. Or whatever.

This is just one of the many fascinating little tid bits I learned whilst attending Scottish Boot Camp 2007, which really wasn't all that boot campy this time around - in fact, I made it back alive and whole and completely rejuvenated from the whole thing (phew for that, Kate! No need to tell my mother where my hastily written "in-case-I-don't-make-it-back-alive" will is!). Ahh. I heart a good vacation.

There's just one thing. One peensy, smallish detail that I wanted to bring up here with respect to travel, a little something I noticed that sticks in my craw. You see - I discovered in Scotland that when you are 30-something, and single, and traveling in a foreign country with another female, and when you are wearing a hat because you don't want to bother combing your hair*, and also - you know - sharing a hotel room with another female (in order to make the whole experience a cheaper one), and blah blah blah - well - one plus one minus a man (or two) MUST EQUAL LESBIAN.

Do you hear what I am saying, people?

I am saying that because I am a single, 30-something gal and was traveling with another 30-something, single gal AND doing so without the chivalry of a man to escort us to and fro safely, that every eligible Scottish man simply assumed that we were lesbians. And just to set the record straight for all of you short sighted Scottish lads out there - we are not - either of us, lesbitarians. Your loss, dudes.

Seriously. Whatever.

So. Allow me to summarize Scottish Boot Camp (the real reason for this post in the first place):

• Car Mileage travelled: Around 1,600 over the course of 10 days.
• Sites visited: The highlands and lowlands, the cities and islands...a few swanky restaurants, some memorable filthy pubs, a bajillion haunted and ruined castles, 482 creepy graveyards...blah, blah, blah.
• Item scratched off my "List of things to do before I die" ** - Driving on the wrong side of the road without crashing and killing someone.
• Pictures taken with the new and beloved Canon? About 3500, of which - probably only 3 are really stellar. But yay! The Canon and I have embarked on a beautiful, life long relationship.
• Estimated damage done to my credit cards: Cost? You mean the richness I added to my lifestory? That, dear friends, is simply immeasurable. *Barfs*
  
  

* The surest sign that you are a lesbian, with the exception of the short, spiky haircut that my 7th grade PE teacher sported.
**Yeah, driving a car with a backwards steering wheel should have been on my original published list for sure.

Singing Children of Africa - 1

One of the Tribal dances they performed. The kids range in age from 9 to 15...they are so funny.

Highland Greetings

Hi-dee-ho all! We finally found a hotel that has REAL, FREE, and even WIRELESS internet access. La!!! So that means that this post is brought to you by the Holborn Hotel, and, let's see - also the letter "S". Because it always comes back to Sesame Street, right? Am I right? Whatever. I am clearly KNACKERED, as the Brits would say, so bear with me, eh?

So, if you will feast your eyes on the map below, you will see that I am still alive and kicking (phew!), and currently hanging out at the top of my beloved Scotland. We've been here 5 actual days now, and I have taken eleventy thousand, four hundred and ninety two pictures. Ok - so that is an ever-so-slight exaggeration, but I have taken 1,665 pictures so far.

Hi. My name is Lynette, and I am addicted to the Canon.

You are here. Oh. I mean, I am here:

So - quick run down of the itinerary so far, and then perhaps a few pictures, because, well, the Canon has asked that I share her beautiful artwork with the world. Who am I to tell the lovely Canon no?

Day 1 - We hit the ground running on Wednesday, and after finally coming out of the Stargate, or the time warp, or the twilight zone (I speak of the noodle-knotted-cluster of Glasgow highways), we headed to Rosslyn. The whole chapel was covered in scaffolding, but it was amazing nonetheless. Allow me a slight side note here whilst I address the forces that govern all restoration projects everywhere:

Why? Why? Oh ye restoration gods that watch over my travels? Why must you time your projects so that they conflict with my trips to Europe? You covered St. Peters Basilica the first time I saw him. I had to go all the way back to get good pictures of his exquisite facade. And then there was the Basilica of St. Francis in Assisi. You laughed when you closed down the whole upper level and didn't allow me to trespass there. Did you enjoy watching my tears? And then there was the cou de ta - that time that you overthrew all of my hopes and dreams and CLOSED "THE LAST SUPPER" museum so that I wouldn't be allowed to go in and revel in it's majesty. Sigh.

Why must you torture me so?

How I love to digress. We did get to see the inside, however, and wow. Rosslyn - she is lovely:

Day 2 - Spent the day at the Glasgow Cathedral and some of the surrounding historic buildings. Then we were off to our first benefit concert with "The Singing Children of Africa." Oh how I heart these kids. I'll post a couple of quick videos of them later for your "waste-time-at-work" viewing pleasure.

Day 3 - Drove to Oban, caught a ferry to the Isle of Mull, took a bus across the Isle of Mull, then took another ferry to the Isle of Iona. They have the greatest ruins of an Abby and an old church there. Dinner in Oban was excellent, which is really saying something for this place. Last time, I lived on baked potatoes and granola bars. Ahh. Good times.

Day 4 - Road trip day - again. We started in Oban, drove all the way up the coast, and ended in Thurso. The best part? We got to crawl over lots of ruined castles along the way. So BEAUUUUTIFUL. Here is a preview of that:

So, more to come...but all in all, this trip has been magical. Karen and I are both getting some much needed rest from our corporate shmo-shmo jobs (read: have saved ourselves from the inevitable physical, emotional, and mental breakdown that accompanies "THE JOB"...for now), the weather is 482,962 times better than it was last time we were here (IT HASN'T RAINED ONCE!!), and we are blazing all new trails and seeing brand new things.

Ahh travel. How I love thee.

Cheers!

"Cò an caora sin còmhla riut a chunnaic mi an-raoir?"

That's Gaelic. Ahem. Loosely translated, it means "Who was that sheep I saw you with last night?" MWAHAHAHAHAHA! At least that's what the internet says. And if it's true, I am about to keel over from the giggles! Aaaah. Deep breath. You know, sometimes the internet lies. It probably really means "stupid American", but even so, I'm gonna sit here and pretend it's correct. Because that's how I roll.

I digress.

Less than 24 hours! Did you hear me? LESS THAN 24 HOURS and I am in the air and on my way to beloved vacation time, much to the disappointment of my pointy-haired boss. I really don't think he meant it when he looked at me on Friday and said "No, no, no, no, no! You can't leave!", but you never know. I'm gonna take my chances and get on that plane tomorrow anyway.

So you probably don't care - I realize that the average Joe doesn't like to torture themselves with tidbits about other people's vacations (picture in your mind that vacation slideshow that you really couldn't care less about; the kind that lasts FOREVER and makes you want to gouge your eyes out with a spoon from all the boredom - and yet, you sit there, fake smile plastered all over your face while you feign interest). Right. Since it is my party - I mean - blog - though, I'll cry if I want to. I guess what I am trying to say is that now is your chance to bail on this entire post - stop reading now, unless you are the "travel-slideshow-feign-interest-masochist" type. I promise, I won't be butt hurt.

So for the, um, 1 of you remaining*, I just cannot contain my excitment!!! So much so, that I emphasize myself with the over-the-top number of exclamation points. And also, I thought I would give you a preview of the "Scottish Boot Camp" agenda that Sargent Major Karen has outlined for us below, including links to some of the things we plan to see. Hee! Here goes:

• Arrive in Glasgow at 7:30 a.m. (which translates to 12:30 a.m. MDT. You see the problem here, right? We are scheduled to miss a whole night's worth of sleep, and - GULP - finding a Mountain Dew in Scotland IS IMPOSSIBLE. The panic is setting in.


• Drive to Rosslyn Chapel and discuss whether there really is a Priory of Sion, or whether all of the stuff Dan Brown asserted in "The DaVinci Code" is a load of horse poo; then take a gagillion pictures with the new and beloved camera.


• Head into Edinburgh and do the Mary Kings Close Underground Tour; all the while taking a gagillion pictures with the new and beloved camera.


• Eventually crash because of the time differences and jet lag; take a gagillion pictures of drooling Karen for blog blackmail at a later date. Oh. Did I say that out loud? Disregard that. That was supposed to be my little secret.


• Wander the streets of Glasgow, making sure to see the Glasgow Cathedral and the Paisley Abbey (and of course, all the time taking a gagillion pictures with the new and beloved camera).


• Head to the Loch Ness area, where we'll see Foyer's Falls, Culloden Battlefield, and hopefully, Nessie herself; snap a gagillion pictures of Nessie with the new and beloved camera so that I can be famous and retire on the photo sales. Shutup. It could happen.


• Head to Inverness, where it will undoubtedly be freezing, but lovely all the same.


• Hit the little villiage of John o'Groats, then maybe Dunrobin Castle, and if time permits, take a relaxing little drive ** through the Cairngorm Mountains.


• Wander down the road to Aberdeen, do a little shopping or whatever; then mosey over to Dunnottar Castle. I seem to have forgotten to mention it, but we will probably be taking a gagillion pictures with the new and beloved camera as well. In case you forgot.


• Then for you golfers (um, which I am not, but whatever), we plan to head over to St. Andrews before hitting Stirling, which will undoubtedly lead to an annoying level of Braveheart references, you know, like "FREEEEEDOM!" and such.
  

And then. Then there's the real reason we decided to go to Scotland in the freezing offseason in the first place. Drumroll please:

THE SINGING CHILDREN OF AFRICA***

Tra la la! This is the school in Kenya that Karen works with. As a fundraiser, the school set up a traveling children's choir, and they evidently raise oodles of money for the kids back home everytime they tour. I love it. So we plan to take in a few of these concerts while we are there, and maybe also - I'll smuggle one of the cutest little singers home in my suitcase so that I can be all Angelina Jolie and stuff.

So congratulations if you made it to the end of this post! You are a trooper if you did. Just as a recap - a few of the things I plan to bring back for your enjoyment? A recording of little Kenyan voices that will melt your cold, black hearts; several blackmail worthy pictures of Karen that will provide potential posting comedic value; my cash cow photo of Nessie (aka - my retirement fund), and hopefully a few blogworthy stories that are more entertaining than this one was.

"Mar sin leibh an dràsda!" -or- "Ta ta for now!"

* Karen.
** Um. The last time we were in Scotland, Karen's driving made me SO CARSICK that I made her pull over on the side of the road, and then proceeded to VOMIT in the gutter at the bottom of this little man's stoop. I didn't realize it at the time, but, um, he was standing there at the same time. EMBARRASED.
*** P.S. Karen built this website in all of her spare time away from purgatory. Oh. I mean work.

A Post for the Lovely Camille

I have this friend who has embarked on a new and exciting life adventure - she picked up everything and moved to a new town for a new job, where there are lots of unknowns and it's really a blank slate. I have to say, I kind of envy her. She can make whatever she wants to out of this new opportunity, right?

So Camille - a shout out to you! Yay for surviving! Your post made me think of that other song about surviving, which then led me to this little video, which just cracks me up. Note: the ending doesn't apply to you, but it makes me laugh anyway.

Enjoy!

I Challenge Thee to a Duel

Recent text message received from the Ex:

"In case I have never said it, I am sorry I was suck a drunken, lazy, nonsupportive, parasitical jerk for so many years. You deserved so much more. :( "

And um. How could I possibly respond to that??!? When I started this post, my intent was to craft a few potential replies - you know - clever retorts - that I could send back to him. I wanted to use this as the launchpad to create a fantastic, witty little blog post*, but truthfully, the whole thought of actually acknowledging him seems to have rendered me speechless. So I thought...

How about if I leave it to you, my favorite internet friends? Let's make it a contest. Winner gets $1, or some french onion soup from Kate's favorite soup place, or a chance to claim the title of funniest commenter for the month of October...or if none of these options suit your fancy, we could come up with something else.

What say ye, clever friends? How should I respond to that - that drivel?


* Witty = the kind of stuff that makes me laugh out loud while the world looks on in pity. :)

Of Random Habits and Rambling Homework

The lovely Kate tagged me to do some homework, which is great when you are trying to think of something to post - built in subject matter is always welcome when the creativity well is running dry, right? Here's the thing: Kate already tagged all the bloggers I know in my small world, so item C might be a challenge. Must chew on this and decide if I am brave enough to tag any of the other bloggers I silently stalk (but never actually comment on).

Here are the rules as I understand them:
A. The rules of the game must be posted at the beginning.
B. Each player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves.
C. At the end of the post, the player then tags 6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

Here goes!

1. I am a "conversation cutter-offer".
Surprise, surprise, right? I mean, given my propensity to wretch commentary all over the shoes of any innocent passer by, this one should be expected. It's a horrible habit that I try to be conscious of, but alas, my filterless "open-mouth-insert-footed" ways are (I fear) so deeply woven into my genetic makeup that I may never be able to overcome it. You got somethin' to say around me? Better get it in while I am chewing my lunch or sipping my martini, because you may never get the chance again. I have an amazing ability to de-rail any train of thought you might be having because something you just said? Well it made me think of something that CAN'T WAIT to come out of my mouth, and well. Let's just say my interruptions are not well-timed.

So rude, yet so impossible to overcome. Sigh.

2. If ice cream alone were a sustainable diet, I would be in heaven.
No need to elaborate here. I will just say this - I heart ice cream.

3. I am a HORRIBLE skier.
You know how some people make skiing look so easy, so graceful - that they should be wearing a tutu whilst gliding down the mountain? Yeah. That's not me. If I am not barreling into a tree or lying on my face (with my arms and legs at impossible angles and my bindings stubbornly refusing to release), I consider that an above average day. Why do I do it then? Because I decided long ago that if I didn't embrace the snow, it would be the death of me. Winters in Utah are just not that fun without a good distraction.

4. I recently had a run in with a hippie, pot-smoking acupuncturist.
Right - where to begin with this one? So this year, I decided that I needed to take control of my health. Living with thyroid issues has been the bane of my existence for the last several years. I hired a personal trainer, started trying to eat better, get more sleep - blah blah blah. I am 7 or 8 months into this new regime, and I don't really feel that much better. So what's a girl to do? Get acupuncture!

My trainer referred me to this acupuncturist that she swears by, so I gave him a call. We had a great phone consultation wherein he convinced me that yes! Acupuncture can indeed help with the thyroid (among other things), and yes, he would be happy to help me out. So I drove to his office, was let into the depths of hippie hell (aka - his "office"), and told over the course of an hour that after looking at my history, he probably couldn't do much for me.

Hippie Acupuncturist: "You gotta free your mind, and your ass will follow."

Me (in my mind): "Right. When do we get down to the needle part?"

In the end, I spent an hour in his incense-infested office, listening to him rant and rave about how acupuncture is just part of the services he offers, and me? I'm a special case requiring more than just a few pokes and prods with the ancient Chinese needlework. For that bit of lovely advice, I was invited to "think about it and get back to him", and then I paid him FIFTY DOLLARS.

That's a scam that's better than panhandling anyday*.

5. I love old people.
Some people have a fear of the elderly. They think they are smelly, and senile, and that the crusty, dried food on their shirts is surely toxic. Me, on the other hand - I love them. I love to hear them talk about "the good ol' days" - about the war, and the depression, and how they have seen oodles and oodles of technological advancement over the course of their lives. I love WWII veterans in a way that most people love their puppies. I love looking at old pictures and imagining what it was like to live in such a long-gone era. Were they always so prim and proper? Or did they ever let their hair down? How did they live without a cell phone permanently attached to their heads? Did they ever want to travel to far off places? Or was a 45 mile trip considered "exotic" to them?

It makes me miss my grandma and grandpa's just thinking about it.

6. I am in love with the internet.
I cannot imagine my life without a wireless router and a laptop - and I am amazed at the mass of data and information that is at our fingertips - all within like the last 15 years! To be able to ask Google a question and get 42,829 answers anyday - well that is just pure bliss. And of course, I must also acknowledge the plethora of bloggers out there - without the internet, I would be tagged a certifiable voyeur. I love having insight into other people's lives right at my fingertips, all without the jail time for stalking.

Oh technology, how I love thee.

The end. As for who I might tag? Stay tuned.



* I am embarrassed that I have just admitted this to you, dear friends. As soon as I find a rub-on tattoo of the word "SUCKAH" , I will promptly apply it to my forehead as penance.

Public Service Announcement

This is another urgent announcement from my Emergency Blogcast System.

WARNING: When purchasing clothing from your local outfitter, be sure to check the label. Clothing created from condoms should be avoided AT ALL COSTS.

Observe (click for larger):

Let me reiterate lest you missed it:

Couture fashioned from reasonable fabrics = Good.
Couture fashioned from Condoms (even fancy colored ones) = Very, very bad**.

*Received in one of those emails that gets passed from mailbox to mailbox until the whole of cyberspace is about to implode.
**ESPECIALLY if it is your wedding dress, as illustrated in image 2. Then it's VERY,VERY, VERY, VERY bad.

Observations of an Insomniac

1. You know you are in for a long night when you wake up because you were in the process of composing an email in your head - for the next day. Like a real business email you were thinking about as you dozed off. The fact that you began the composition of the email whilst you were unconscious and it triggered you to wake up also suggests you need to get a life. Or a massage*.
   
   
2. The whole concept of counting sheep was a ploy created by Sesame Street to get you to learn your numbers when you were 5. It is not an effective sleep aid after the age of, say, maybe 6.
   
   
3. The 'rational' switch in your brain shuts off at about 12:30 a.m., so that EVERYTHING in life seems 282,492 times more dramatic than it really is. For example: the noises your house makes - those MUST mean an intruder is on his way in to hack you to pieces and make off with your TiVo**. Or this: because you didn't send that one email before you left work for the day, well, you might as well flush any thoughts of your future career down the toilet. Or perhaps this: checking that you locked the doors and the windows and that the porch light is on 14 times? That seems perfectly acceptable at 2 a.m...and 4:30 a.m...or whatever.
   
   
4. Infomercials are the spawn of Satan, created by his minions and played during the period of time when your "rational" receptors are not firing (refer to above). In the wee hours of the morning, you will believe that you can repair your scratched $700 pair of eyeglasses for $14, or that you can re-align your mojo with the stars if you wear a magic bracelet. And those "sleep-number" beds? Yeah. Well they kick up the marketing for those big time during the "irrational" hours of the morning. After the watching said commercials for the 42nd time, you will be convinced that you need to have such an enchanted, sleep inducing bed for yourself, no matter the cost.
   
   
5. Painting one's toenails is not a good distraction when one cannot sleep. With wet toenails, you have just committed yourself to keeping your feet out of the covers until they are dry.
   
   
6. Keeping a stash of really boring magazines or books by one's bedside is essential if one is to bore their mind into a state of unconsciousness. Reading a fast-paced murder mystery is not recommended if the end result you are seeking is actual sleep.
   
   
7. Having a second TiVo (one that actually lives in your bedroom) should be a required item one procures when setting up house. This would then provide a safety net for those bouts of insomnia that cannot be cured by reading for 2 or 3 hours. Also, it would alleviate the problem posed by the Infomercial minions described above. Without your own chosen selections of television media, you are stuck with the Ginsu knives, or 482 programs related to Hitler and WWII.
   
   

* OK. So this one might be slightly autobiographical. Well, all of them. Except maybe #5. I did, however, seriously consider that one last night.
**Because what could be more valuable than your beloved TiVo?

It's the Final Countdown

Today is October 1st, and for those of you who haven't been COUNTING THE DAYS* - let me provide you with a little update: We leave for the lovely, enchanting, and mind-bogglingly fantasmic Scotland in a mere

15 DAYS!

Clearly, I am very excited about this.

There is one thing about this trip that distresses me, however - and that is the strength of the almighty Dollar compared to the British Pound. As of today, $1= £ .49. Or - if you look at the inverse, £1 = $2.04.

OUCH!

Essentially, this means that any item I think I might want to purchase must go through a thorough review before plunking down my hard earned cash, a process that I anticipate will look something like this -

Step 1: Complete mental currency conversion: Amount on price tag times 2 = cost that will appear on my credit card statement when I return.

Step 2: Slight eye twitch or an audible gasp - having just realized the true cost.

Step 3: Begin justification Process - an activity that includes such thoughts as "...but if I don't purchase this item now, I will probably never be back to do so again!" OR "...surely my bonus next year will cover all of this..." OR "...I have to buy Christmas presents anyway, might as well be Scottish ones..." OR "how great would this look hanging on my wall in the blah blah blah?".

You see how my mind works in situations like these.

Step 4: Complete assessment of which credit card I should use this time (my thought process being that if you spread all your purchases across your twenty eleven thousand credit cards, the sticker shock isn't as immediate, right?).

Step 5: Buy whatever the hell I want to, regardless of what the rational part of my brain is saying.

But whatever. In truth - this may end up being the cheapest trip I have ever taken abroad. I am flying over FIRST CLASS on sky miles, staying in free (and swanky) Hilton hotels (I knew that all of that corporate travel this year would be worth it in the end!), and splitting the cost of almost everything else with travel Drill Sargent Karen.

Dear friends - please excuse me if my blog begins to look like something straight out of Scotland over the next month.

Anyone want to come along?

15 DAYS!

*Um, like all of you.