If you want to feel like a COMPLETE outsider in the new country you find yourself, I suggest you go to a comedy night. Hannah, Erin & I decided last night, to do something completely different and attend the comedy night being put on by the hotel/lounge down the street from my dorm named “The Greyfriars Hotel”. First, the bouncer eyes us and examines our ID’s quite thoroughly. Apparently, the disbelief that Erin & I are over 18 is pretty universal here. But with that, a fiver ($5), & an honest smile from the burly bouncer, we finally get in. Little did we anticipate that this was a local hangout, not a college one. I’m not saying that this time there were old men bickering in Scottish brogue, but you could obviously tell that students at St. Andrews did not convene here on a Thurs nights very often. So, we find ourselves a seat next to a pretty judgmental looking middle-age couple that do not hide the fact that for most of the night they are staring at us with obvious disapproval.

The host jumps on stage about a half hour after we arrive, and we are immedietly thankful that we did not pick the table RIGHT night to the floor, like we originally intended. He begins by picking on them, and never ceases throughout the night. The tattooed men at the table are lighthearted and add their own jokes to the banter. But, we were apparently not a safe distance away from the stage, because eventually the host spots us and begins to make us the butt of his jokes. He even picks me specifically, asking me questions & ending with “I’m going to come back to you, you sound like an interesting one”. Now this is where it begins to be obvious that we ARENT at home in America, because the entire time he is making fun of our table or speaking to me, none of us American girls understood a word he is saying! So, while he is berating us, we are simply left nodding or attempting a “Yes?” in response. This became a popular theme of the night. Of the 5 comedians that hit the stage, 2 ½ might as well have been mumbling the entire time, because that is exactly what they sounded like they were doing in their Scottish brogue. While the entire bar full of Scotts laugh heartily at every joke, Erin, Hannah and I are merely left staring, trying to understand at least ONE word that is coming out of these mumbling Scottish men’s mouths. Ultimately failing half the time. So, for two out of the five acts we find ourselves sitting there, ears peeled, leaning forward, not catching one word or concept of the joke. The other three acts had less of a thick accent and (at times) found it convenient to annunciate a little bit, to our great benefit. But that is not to say we caught the entire act. Either these men mumbled through half their jokes & the Scottish natives were the only ones with the trained ears to catch it, OR they were spending 10 minutes making jokes about some Scottish product or word, that we had no idea what it was. So, while this comedian spends a half hour joking about “neds” leaving the entire bar nodding & in a collective uproar, our table is still attempting to collect WHAT exactly a ned IS! Yet, despite the language and accent barrier, of the jokes we could both understand and hear were great ones and we found enough time to laugh heartily as well - to the great disapproval of the couple next to us.

After the very entertaining comedy acts, we continued to the union to order my first margarita & run into our Italian friend, Donatello. Donatello makes it a mission of his that we head to St. Andrews nightclub so that we could all end the night dancing, but after discovering the club and St.A’s other local hotspot was closed, we found ourselves back at the union, tearing up the dance floor to the University Sponsored “Bop”, which is basically a mini club room that the university hosts every Thursday. Despite the few American songs being played, we discovered a lot of GREAT new British beats that were a blast to dance to!

Overall, a very educational and successful night. If I do say so myself.

Only in Scotland can you be standing in the lunch line, and find a man listening to his Ipod in a FULL kilt & garb, two people in front of you. Yes, that was the opening on my day. This guy was not only dressed in a full kilt, but had the socks, dagger, officer-looking coat & even the vintage shoes to boot (pun intended). Add that to the fact that there were chips (fries) for lunch, & you have yourself a happy Cavanagh. But, what I did find equally interesting as the skirt-wearing lunchee was that for dessert they had a Belgium waffle topped with ice cream. I would be more than happy to have had this on the breakfast menu, but it being the dessert threw me off a bit. But it was delicious!

Despite the early morning kilt attire and the GORGEOUS day out (Sunny & dare I say it, relatively WARM!), this day has slowly gone downhill. St. Andrews: you are on my last nerve. Ignoring the fact that after putting in double the amount it takes to start the dryer (I was successfully doing laundry) & NOT receiving any change back, I went to the main office determined to replace the room key I had lost on a walk a few days earlier. On top of the fact I somehow dropped this tiny iron key in the dirt of St. Andrews, my swipe ID card wont let me into my building. Summation: I cant get into my room, nor my building. So, with these problems in hand, I put on my nicest smile and attempted to get these minor issues remedied. FAIL!

After FINALLY succeeding in getting the attention of one of the women chit-chatting at the desks, she looks at me after explaining my problems with a bitter face. She confiscates the ONLY key that will let me into the building and tells me to email the school to try and get my other ID card fixed. Um, thank you ma’am, but HOW am I supposed to enter my building now? Then, when telling her of my lost room key she not only has trouble understanding that my dorm even REQUIRES a key, but when the light bulb went on, she then snaps at me that I shouldn’t be giving out my key to anyone (ok, once again, I DROPPED THE BUGGAR, I'm NOT soliciting men!) She then goes on to angrily tell me that it will be $20 to replace the key right then. If I do not find the key by the end of the month (Impossible, seeing as how if I could find it, I wouldn’t BE THERE) then I owe the school an additional $75 for the replacement of the lock. St. Andrews, I know youre a school for princes, but MUST you be so ridiculous! I didnt lose the nuclear weapons (Like Bush did...ha), simply a wee KEY! Plus, I already owe you another $1000 for tuition that you seemed to have miscalculated upon my arrival with the exchange rate. So take it down a notch, GOSH!

At this point I am just fed up with the whole St. Andrews establishment, so I decide I need to head out to the library to get ahead in my reading, just to find that my converter (the thing I use to plug EVERYTHING in my life into) has conveniently gone missing. *Sigh* I will not go on. Basically its just been a slow & rough day. Hoping the weekend will arrive more quickly so I can get a break from little St. Andrews and see the gorgeous capital of Scotland (:

SideNote: Not only will be seeing castles, center of Scotland’s parliament, and LITERAL dungeons (etc) in Edinburgh, but Joshua Hannah (our looovely Scottish tourguide) along with Louis (or amazing Scottish cook) has told us that they are booking a private room in one of the best nightclub in Edinburgh. Not only does this evade any of the admission issues that we experience in Glasgow, a room separate from awkward staring foreign creepers, but a little champagne & grey goose to top off the night (; WE’RE GOING TO BE POPPPIN BOTTLES! (Dad, bear with me. This isnt a usual occurrence. <3)

Overall, I need it to be the weekend. BUT until then, St. Andrews is BUSTLING with police and television crews awaiting the arrival of Prince Charles and his Fiancé tomorrow, to celebrate the 600^th birthday of this lovely, yet frustrating, Uni. Pretty much everyone I know did not win the “lottery” to obtain a ticket for this epic event, but we are all planning on (perhaps literally) camping out near the quad in order to say that we saw the Prince at St. Andrews!

Well, after a long phone call with my friend(: he convinced me that it is SUCH a gorgeous day out, and reminded me that I was IN SCOTLAND FOR GOODNESS SAKES, so I cannot have a bad day & need to go outside & enjoy. Thus, I am going to hop out of this 70's looking library & find a beautiful place to read my Scottish novel. I see this hill (pictured here. look veeeery closely in the background. see the trees?) outside of town, no matter where I am within town. I have made my goal to eventually find & reach where those cluster of trees are. So, perhaps I will venture out of this “bubble” & find my patch of trees <3

Picture This Readers of my Sporadic yet Determined Blog(Or merely look to the right of this paragraph... There is a visual for you) : Sean Connery standing up and lecturing to you (in all his Scottish greatness) for two hours straight; on the nearly forgotten, yet still used, language of SCOTTS. Oh yes, it fulfills dreams doesn’t it? Well, to my tearful enjoyment THIS is exactly what my Monday lecture consisted of: A younger, yet just as lovely sounding, Sean Connery lectured to us about Scotts, Scotland, and assorted Scottish things. Needless to say, I left what COULD have been a very dull lecture, quite happy!

As anticipated, this weekend was a relaxing and calming one. We decided to have a quiet weekend & stay in St. Andrews to perhaps explore it more, and we were very successful. After picking up our good friend, Josh Hannah, from the bus station we decided to just walk around town & figure out where it took us. Erin and I have been sticking to the three block radius that is the center of town, so we decided to finally walk the beach that is just outside my window. I know, it is quite sad that I live off of a beach / the north sea & yet never found time to trek that beach. The beach follows the multiple St. Andrews golf courses, (7 of them) including the “Old Course” – Which is the first Golf course ever made.

I must say, that after about a mile on the beach, to turn around and gaze back at the city of St. Andrews is.. (cliché as it may sound) BREATHTAKING! It looks like such a classic, GORGEOUS, old Scottish town put upon a cliff. The time of day we went (just as it was getting dark) and watching all the lights of St Andrews turn on amongst the fog, just forces one to stop and realize that YOU ARE HERE! In Scotland. Staying at one of the oldest and most prestigious schools of Europe. Walking next to the North Sea, staring at such a beautiful and historic city. WHO is given his opportunity? I mean REALLY! Being caught within the three blocks of St Andrews, trekking back and forth from lecture, I tend to forget my true circumstance and pure LUCK to be here. So plainly, standing on the beach looking back at such a beautiful city allows one to regain perspective. So I have decided, whenever I lose that perspective (after a stressful week or what not), I will force myself to walk that mile of beach & look back. To rediscover just where I am, and how lucky I am to be here.


Our walk ended at a local pub, The Whey Patt, which students do not usually go to. It is therefore, filled with “the locals”, aka: A bunch of old Scottish/Irish men having a pint and bickering about one thing or another, all in their assorted accents. Yes, I was in heaven. Being a sociology and English Major, my fascination is in human beings. Simply, I can sit somewhere and just people watch ALL day. The Whey Patt served to be the PERFECT place. Living within St. Andrews, many say you are living within a bubble (As explained earlier). So, you do not get exposed to as much Scottish culture as you may like to. So, sitting there watching these Scottish Old men, just gave me the TRUE Scottish culture I needed. My Scottish-fix you may say. (: Sadly, this little piece of Scottish heaven was disrupted when a group of American & English students stormed in & started screaming and becoming quite belligerent in their need to consume alcohol.

That is another thing that I have learned, and my dad may be thankful for: Drinking is a social thing. People begin drinking here at age 12, not to develop a country full of alcoholics, but because that is the social thing to do. To have a pint with your father is to socialize and simply bond. That was a huge shocker when I first arrived here. They say that American’s drink to get wasted. They guzzle as much as they can in the shortest period of time. NOT saying that I was slamming them down as good as the rest of them, but I have learned (Father, don’t be judgmental) that having one beer while sitting amongst friends is for the mere experience of it and NOT at all to just become wasted and belligerent. Therefore, these annoying, screaming, and chugging Americans/English were very much hated by the locals and nearly asked to leave by the bartender. They obviously have yet to learn the Scottish ways of alcohol. Tehe.

My father has explained to me moments in his life or certain places that force him to just stand there, arms spread out, eyes shut, face to the skies, just SOAKING IN the moment. It is a hard thing to explain the feelings going through you or the reason that this posture becomes a necessity. But, I am proud to say that on many occasions, Scotland forces me to take up this position. In my lame attempts to try to explain the reasons behind it, I can simply say that I am my father’s daughter.

After the Whey Patt, In the dead of night, I was walking home and stopped by the hill in front of my dorm, overlooking the water . Just…the feeling of the night and the pure environment hits you hard when standing at such a high and exposed place, and you have NO choice but to stand there, trying to it ALL in. it occurred another time, when I went for a run in the rain. With the mixture of the wind, hills, music and rain, I felt… ALIVE. I felt like sprinting, signing out loud, climbing a hill and standing there in the wind. The feeling is one that cannot be explained so I am going to stop trying and failing, but I hope that one day everyone gets a chance to experience it. Perhaps it can be explained as being “surreal”. I don’t know. My father understands at least, and for that I a grateful. <3 size="1"> [PS: I googled that stuff right quick & the CAVANAGHS have a tartan! I am amazed & Giddy]


1) See the Highlands: I am reading novels about it. (Which is one of the CRAZIEST parts! I am reading Scottish fiction novels in which the places described are either BLOCKS away or miles away(!)) These novels, and the personal accounts have made me realize that I MUST see the highlands as soon as I can. They sound SO unlike anything I have experienced! Just… GAH!

2)See a real Glasgow Football (Soccer) game! : The backstorybehind the two Glasgow teams is too much for me to attempt to explain here. It is a religious and blood driven rivalry between the Celtics and the Rangers. And I mean LITERALLY blood driven. Fans of each team LOATHE the other because both teams represent two different religions: the Catholics and the protestants. And within Glasgow, it is not uncommon for one to be stabbed in the street for merely wearing the other team’s colors. For this danger, fans of the other team must be patrolled in the stadium a half hour after the game ends in attempts to ensure no riot within the streets. I suggest you look up the history/ truth of all this. A blog just IS NOT enough space to begin to explain the animosity between these two teams!

3)Find a Mexican restaurant: Yes mother, the cravings for Mexican food amongst this bland Scottish cuisine has become TOO MUCH! I am honestly considering skyping you for recipes and detailed instructions to try and make my own version of your delicious food! AAH! Its torture!



Our plans for the upcoming weekend:
Friday – The PRINCE is coming to St Andrews. YES, the soon to be wedded Prince William and his lovely bride are to appear at the place of their meeting: St. Andrews University. Erin and I have attempted to get tickets to this historic event, but are now waiting in a lottery to see if our names will be drawn and we will be allowed entrance into the event.

ALSO: I made a new friend and she is having a little birthday celebration & I WAS INVITED! Sorry, I am quite proud of myself for this little fun fact.<3>

Sun-Sat – TRIP TO EDINBURGH! Scotland’s capital and the location to the biggest and most awesome castle within Scotland! It doesn’t need to be said, but I am beeeeeyond ecstatic to see a real life castle and one of the most gorgeous and historic cities within Scotland! Finding an open hostel that is not already booked is proving extremely difficult, BUT I am not above camping out on a bench in front of the castle, if need be. It’s all a part of the traveling abroad college experience isn’t it?!

A poem read to us in class. This poem by Scottish writer & poet Hugh MacDiarmid, I think has now caused me to fall in love with poetry. Not only because it was read in a Sean Connery-esque lovely Scottish accent, but.. I just found it beautiful. So I had to post it<3

The first is the original poem written in "Scotts", the Second is its rough translation. Take it as you will:

Life here is so BASIC. For once, all I have to worry about is what I want to do tomorrow or in the next few minutes or even the next few seconds. That is it. Its about my decisions and my own life. These four months are going to be about me, it is so simple. After an entire AMAZING weekend of just ME and what I wanted t do, I end it by talking to people from back home & I am just immediately thrown back into all the rubbish, all the stress & chaos. I am not blaming anyone, but it just makes me realize that I dont need that right now. I dont need to be back there at this point. As selfish as it sounds, I am here, and maybe Stacey is right when she told Erin, "If you can't imagine coming back home after this, then dont. Find or make yourself a way where you dont have to leave". Maybe Stacey has a point.

Not up for a post about what happened this weekend. It opened up my eyes to a lot of things though(: so hopefully I can better explain it when I am not as...exhausted. Off to read me some Robert Louis Stevenson and hopefully cash out.

As counter intuitive as it may sound, the lack of "grinding" & its social acceptability in European dancing just makes things MORE AWKWARD! Yes, I am fully aware that the idea of some random guy entering into one's personal space (See attached link for diagram)while getting one's funkk on seems both like an assault and he definition of "awkward", yet last night when I found myself on the dance floor of the ONLY "club" (of sorts) in St. Andrews, I quickly came to the realization that I missed American’s assault on one’s personal bubble.

Let me explain: Last night Erin, Mike & I met up with a UofM student that has been studying abroad at St. Andrews since the beginning of the year – Hannah (Confusing, I know. Roommate Hannah will be thus known as “Roomie” to deter confusion). After meeting & loving nearly every person in her hall, we proceeded to walk to ‘The Lizard’ which is he only club in the little town of Fife, but in actuality is a very tiny, one room, crowded basement of a bar with an illuminated dance floor. It being located down the street from me made the walk to this one roomed “club” that much easier. I had been warned that there was no dancing with guys in European dancing prior to this excursion, but I NEVER thought it would really make a difference. Dancing is dancing; no matter the country. Oh how I was wrong. On this tiny, crowded, glowing dance floor I found myself trying to edge into a circle with the group of girls I came with, with guys standing on the outskirts emanating pure discomfort. Having Mike in our group made this social difference that much more apparent. He didn’t know whether to dance next to us, near us, or just slink to the outskirts with the afraid-looking men.

But what occurred to me during this dancing fiasco, was the question: How in the world do you meet people then? NOT saying that I need to be danced all up on to meet someone, because more often than not you don’t, but everyone seemed to stick in their own small group, waving their hands around, ignoring or disrupting the tiny group of waving girls next to them. Perhaps the dance floor just isn’t the place to meet anyone at all, and me (Miss Naïve grinding American) just isn’t aware of that. I guess I am now. Also, Note to self: NEVER listen to another Rihanna song when you get back home to America. You will have your fill (Plus a bit more) here.

That excursion explained, I’ll jump earlier into yesterday & tell of our little shopping adventure into Dundee. Dundee is a city only about a 30min bus trip out of St. Andrews. After deciding to stay in St. Andrews for the weekend and not making a long weekend trip to Edinburgh, Erin, the Roomie & I decided that we wanted to take a day trip to Dundee to not void the entire weekend of some new adventure. Having asked around, we were told that there really isn’t anything to do in Dundee but shopping – which we were not against in the least. We were also repeatedly told that Dundee was “a dump” and nicknamed by the locals as “Slumdee”. Having been misinformed about Glasgow & its comparison to Detroit, we thought we should save our judgment until we saw for ourselves.

After trekking to the bus station only a block away from my dorm, we find that our bus is already there and near departure. We scramble on, and after being berated by a bitter bus driver for “Grabbing the ticket wrong”, we took our seats at the back of the bus and sat back to enjoy the country side. Have I mentioned that bus drivers here KNOW HOW TO GET WORK DONE! With NO exaggeration, I feel as though their huge double decker status gives them MORE confidence where a little apprehension should probably take place. Despite (what I thought) the many near collisions with wee cars, we enjoyed the trip because we were finally able to see the landscape of Scotland! Picture what you think is Scotland: rolling hills, wandering sheep, tiny dirt lanes, cobblestone walls randomly placed. Yep, you’ve got the general idea of the landscape from Fife to Dundee. By the time we entered the city of Dundee, Erin, Hannah & I had come to the conclusion that we needed to make a goal to hug a sheep before we leave Scotland. The Serta commercials are just too convincing, so wish us luck on this ambitious endeavor.


At first, I didn’t see what everyone was so flustered about. The center of Dundee looks like any great city. The bus dropped us off RIGHT in the center of the city & therefore in front of the mall (NEVER say mall, its “Shopping center”) and shopping lanes. We merely had to turn around to see our new favorite store, PRIMARKS! Where the quality might be low, but for $5 boots & $3 dresses, what do you expect? (Mary & Marty, this store is a MUST on our agenda when you come. Please make sure to remind me to add it into our agenda). After nearly an hour in Primarks & then a succession of shopping within the mall. Three shirts, a pair of boots, bracelets, tights, and only $15 later… we decided to see a bit of Dundee outside the Shopping centers. Between stores we ran into gorgeous churches, quant lanes, and random art galleries. But we found that outside of the nearly 4 block square of the center of town, there really was nothing else. With empty stores, questionable buildings and boarded up windows, we realized that outside of the happy little shopping center, Dundee REALLY was nothing else. During our bus ride out of Dundee and toward St. Andrews, it became apparent to Erin & I that Dundee mirrored Detroit more than anyone had let on. It looked like a beaten & forgotten city, just as Detroit is.


While Glasgow may mirror Detroit’s propensity for crime, Dundee seemed to be its exact image in its ware & tear. As many people don’t give Detroit, I am probably not giving Dundee it’s due. As an outsider I have no idea the reality behind Dundee and I actually heard that there is an AMAZING sports center located somewhere within the town that allows people (after April 1st) to raft, scale mountains & jump into rivers below etc. I never thought this was available in SCOTLAND or anywhere outside of central America or something, so THIS is was I am MOST excited for in Dundee, and it is what I will be dragging my father to when he comes to see me (: SO GET YOUR ADVENTURE TROUSERS ON PADRE!


Not much else occurred when we arrived back at St. Andrews beside hunger and meeting the fellow Michigan girl and her floor. I have a quiet weekend ahead of me, so hopefully going to catch up on my Robert Louis Stevenson novel! Had a little bit of homesickness this morning /: so quick Hello’s via skype or FB or (if your feeling reaaally ambitious, MAIL!) would be greatly appreciated.

I love you all<3