A recipe for an unexpected meal

Edinburgh Expeditions

Following the success of The Recipe Given to Us by the Stoned Irishman back in May (onions, garlic, courgette, pasta and salmon in a cream sauce), we decided that we would have our entire meal planned by strangers. This included a toast, cocktail, and a three course meal.

Armed with a notebook, pen and bouquet of yellow roses, my friends and I hit the streets of Edinburgh to have locals and tourists alike plan our dinner party.

The cocktail was given to us first by a group of skateboarders in Bristo Square. The cocktail? A Jakeyboy, half Buckfast and half cider. We couldn’t find Buckfast, so this was nixed in favour of traditional cocktails.

An elderly gentleman gave us the starter–“You’ll want a soup,” he said. “A nice Scotch broth. Or perhaps borscht.” With the suggestion of borscht we also got a story about dining in restaurants in communist Russia. “And the ice cream. You never think of ice cream when you think of communist Russia, but they had the best ice cream.”

Our main was chicken/vegetarian curry (standard Scottish affair, but delicious nevertheless). The dessert a molten chocolate cake–I wasn’t around for either of these suggestions.

Our toasts came from a busker on the Royal Mile, a Portuguese saw-player who wears a top hat. “Salud” is the only one of the three I can remember. Other toasts came from ourselves, the British Navy of Nelson’s era (fittingly, the Sunday toast is ‘to absent friends’ and the occasion for the dinner was a going away party), and a favourite of one of my recently departed American friends which is not repeated in polite company.

We collected stories to tell through the night, including a very sweet one about what you see when you are falling asleep from one of the Royal Mile vendors. One of my friends is an accomplished harpist, so that night when I told the story, we had musical accompaniment.

We gave each person a yellow rose as a thank you for their contribution. The leftovers we used to make bouquets, and the roses are still going strong, sitting on one of the tables in my flat, fully blooming and only slightly touched by brown.

An eclectic evening, but a fantastic one, filled with friends, laughter and the happiest of memories touched with the sadness of our friend’s departure–but her adventures will be wonderful and I look forward to hearing about them.

Losing my zeds.

The Rogue Zed

I fought, I really did. One year of living in the UK, and I managed to maintain my z’s. Organization had one. Realize had one. Hell, ‘z’ was even called ‘zee’ rather than ‘zed.’

Two and a half weeks of working as a copywriter/editor in Glasgow will change one’s spelling.

The ‘u’ in ‘humour’ and ‘behaviour’ and ‘colour’ were easy, I had used them since moving over here and had, in an experimental turn in high school, managed to tick off several of my teachers who pleaded with me to spell like an American. I eventually acquiesced when my creative writing teacher got annoyed with my use of ‘whilst.’

Since coming over to the UK, I’ve embraced the previously taboo spelling. I assimilated ‘whilst’ into my vocabulary. Pants became trousers immediately (and well, undies remained undies or became pants or knickers). Favourite pub discussions became discussing language differences with my British friends and sometimes in the company of another American, one who wasn’t trying to assimilate as much as I.

Theater became theatre. Center became centre. Rotaries turned to roundabouts. Wrench became spanner. As a joke my mum sent me a British-American dictionary, which I haven’t really opened because I’ve committed a lot of the differences to memory..

I held onto my precious ‘z’s. That is, until my boss was reading what I had edited and pointed out, ‘There’s a zed there.’

‘Oops,’ I replied and promptly changed it.

‘There’s a rogue zed there,’ he said a few minutes later. ‘And another one.’

Since then, I’ve become hyper aware of zeds. And calling them zeds. I’ve renounced the ‘zee’…oh blast.

10 things I’ve learned about life during my first week at work

The Rogue Zed

I started work last week–a full time, temporary position, but I have employment nonetheless. And it’s at a great company, I really enjoy working there. Anyways, over the course of the last ten days, I have learned a great deal.

10. If you need to know something, ask.

It could be simple, or complex. You only look like an idiot if you don’t ask and make a mistake. Also, ask if you’re a newbie. You’re expected to asked silly questions.

9. Take advantage of down time.

Commuting by train like me? Bring a book. A notebook. A shopping list. Anything to make time pass productively. I wrote this article on my commute. Putting time aside to do what you enjoy is easy when you’re stuck on a train.

8. Smile.

Say hello to people you see everyday, even if you don’t know them. Being acknowledged makes people feel good about themselves.

7. Own up to your mistakes and do your best to correct them.

This may mean taking an out-of-pocket expense that results in your needing to avoid the pub for two weeks (I don’t drink that much, but beer is price and so are train tickets); this could also mean taking a working lunch to make up for lost time.

6. Oggling the cute guys (or girls) on your commute is completely acceptable.

You admire the landscape passing outside the train (especially if you’re like me and commute from Edinburgh to Glasgow, lovely views), might as well enjoy the view inside the train as well. Sometimes seeing a cute guy is all the motivation you need to make that 7.37 train.

5. Pay attention to social cues.

If you’re asked to drop an email, don’t continue your book pitch.

4. Refer/spell things as they are in the country you’re living in.

For example, the typical ‘u’s. Also, it isn’t ‘organize’ it is ‘organise.’ Avoid the Rogue Zed!

3. Always do your research.

Could be about a company, a specific product…always best to be prepared and have some preliminary knowledge before you launch into a discussion or pitch.

2. Sudden changes in plans have knockdown effects you may not expect.

It may not be something big, like having to post something originally supposed to be hand-delivered, or it could end up being a massive time waster (see point 1).

1. Always check your mobile for messages about plans.

Otherwise you may pull a Beth and find yourself stranded in Bridge of Allan for an hour waiting for the next train back to Glasgow because your meeting was cancelled and you didn’t see the text explaining that.

And bonus:

Always carry an umbrella.

One year as an expat.

Edinburgh Expeditions

(C) Bethany Wolfe 2012

I’ve lived in the UK for a year now. One year, with only a brief sojourn back to the States. One year.

One year. One year. Living on my own. Responsibilities. Education. Academia. Heartbreak. Making friends. Seeing these friends move away. Interviews. Starting jobs. Design. Worrying. Worrying about if the government will let me stay here, or if I’ll have to return to the States. Will I get to immigrate? Will I have to return to the land of my birth (I don’t call it ‘home’)?

Trips to London. Trip to the Highlands. Pilgrimage to Manchester. Concerts. Theatre. Adventures. Swing dancing. Saying hello. Saying good bye. Moving. Leases. Commutes. Thoughts too complex to be expressed as any more than phrases. Moments. Music. Friends. Poetry. Film-making. Nineteen Eighty-Four.

Fish and chips. Forays into vegetarianism. Bacon beckons. Tea. Biscuits. Brie. Late night chats. Early morning conversations. Sometimes the same thing. Mistakes. Regrets.

Laughter. Tears. Sobs into the night. Loneliness. Frustration. Disappointment. Elation. Love. Token American. Belonging.

Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo

Edinburgh Expeditions

Last night, my dad and I went to the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo. We’ve talked about going to this event for years, since I started playing the bagpipes back in the early 2000s (I don’t play any more). Finally, circumstances brought us to Edinburgh (well, my living here and his being in Scotland for work).

Around 8.30, we joined the throng walking up the Royal Mile, the maddening bunch of tourists, a few locals, masses of students. I felt a bit like a salmon swimming up river, particularly as I had to go up hill to get to the Castle Esplanade. It was chilly, a sharp contrast to the day’s comfortable weather and Saturday night’s warmth. Sitting up where we were, it was slightly windy, but not nearly so bad as on top of the seats–the flags flew wildly.

The Tattoo started at 9 with a fighter jet flyover, which I unfortunately could not see. Not a real loss though, we could hear the four jets. They fly over the Meadows, and I’ve seen them fly by before.

Spilling from the Castle

(C) Bethany Wolfe 2012

I didn’t really know what to expect from the Tattoo. Bagpipes, obviously, military bands, yep. Highland dancing mixed with modern dance to interpret the Industrial Revolution? Nope, did not expect that–nor did I particularly enjoy it. It was entertaining and shiny, but, quite frankly, watching modernish dance bores me a bit. As does ballet, to a degree. I digress.

Top Secret Drum Corps

(C) Bethany Wolfe

My favourite part of the evening was when the Top Secret Drum Corps of Basel, Switzerland. I had seen a video of their 2006 performance and was hopinghopinghoping that they would be performing at this year’s Tattoo. Lo and behold, they were! It was a fantastic performance. I grinned ear to ear the whole time. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” my dad said to me during the drum-stick-stage-fighting portion. I could only nod.

Top Secret Drum Corps

(C) Bethany Wolfe 2012

After the Top Secret Drum Corps came the King of Norway’s personal guard, a fantastic drill team and band. I like the patterns and movements created by drill teams, the precision and exactness (a bit strange that I can be bored watching choreographed dance and yet I really enjoy drum lines and drill teams…oh well).

Pipers and Others

(C) Bethany Wolfe 2012

The Tattoo ended with the lone piper on the Castle ramparts, playing a hymn for the fallen.

The Lone Piper

(C) Bethany Wolfe 2012

A Dissertation: A Story in Five Songs

Edinburgh Expeditions

As my dissertation draws into a close (at this point, the thing is printed, bound and submitted), I realized that my odyssey can be recounted in five songs. It’s more the feeling (and title) of the song than the lyrics, but enjoy away.

May-June

No class! I can do whatever I want! It’s sunny, I can research outside! Mum and sister are in town, I can take some time off!

June-July

http://youtu.be/wka9-SBQiIo

Things aren’t going quite as I anticipated…

July-August

http://youtu.be/DyJdiE0l23c

As the deadlines draw nearer…

16 August 2012

The thing is in…and I am so tired…it’s a cold and its a broken hallelujah…now to recovery and celebrate with the friends I’ve been ignoring for the last few weeks.

And as it finally sets in…

FREEEDOM! Now I’m off to enjoy the sunny weather, the Fringe, and time with friends before I become a responsible adult.