Lenny calls me Sally, and I don't know why.

The Seaton Arms pub was boring, at first. A sort of plain bar, sort of roughened round the edges, and definitely for locals. Fluoresecent panel lights lent a bit of harsh flatness to everything. I knew KJ and Bob, alright, and Dan, who I had met last night, but everyone else was totally new to me. Andy was stuck at tech rehearsal for his play. There were a bunch of Americans there, and some of them even seemed familiar to me because Andy's always forwarding pictures of various parties and gatherings along, and he talks about them all the time when we message, or talk on the phone.

So, I sort of sat quietly, and drank away two pints of Strongbow, and then we all headed over to the sidebackroom of the pub, where there were a bunch of tables and chairs and a microphone setup. KJ lost a bet, see, something about some guy who wouldn't say what was in the glass he was drinkin' from, and she betting that he wouldn't tell, otherwise, she'd sing the entire Rod Stewart back catalogue for everyone, karaoke-style, and so of course he then told, and well, she had to honor the bet.

Look, I don't understand the Scottish, either, OK? ;)

So after getting introduced to Lenny, the wacky older drunken bar regular, who kissed my hand gallantly when he learned my name, and being asked what my name was by some tipsy local who said I had a bonny smile, we headed over to the other room and listened to KJ make her way through at least ten Stewart songs ...

There was a bar fight, some guy almost bursting through our door on the way out the main door to the pub, wrestling with the barkeep some, and yelling, "Percy! Percy!!! You are an ASSHOLE!"

The barmen also set up the karaoke machine for us, and taught KJ how to use it. A bit later on, I decided to make the evening a little less dull for myself, and I went on up and did, "I Feel the Earth Move," which I somehow end up doing at lots of karaoke events, but hey, you know, you do songs that you know well. Doesn't make sense otherwise, unless you're completely blasted on stoli 7's or something ...

I also did, "Shout," and then a bit later, "Oh! Darlin'" Was completely red-faced when I did "I Feel the Earth Move," finished, and had the whole room chanting, "More! More! More! More!"

Hey, everybody, I rocked some small-ass pub in the far northern reaches of Scotland! Rock stah.

Bob also treated me to my very first shot of single malt whiskey - Glenmorangie. Oh, that was lovely; I'll have to do it again. We walked back to the flat through a perfectly-smoothed late night fog.

Oof, a bit tired, and my throat feels a little scratchy. Heh. I went a little nuts on the Beatles tune, so that probably had something to do with it. Now, I can hear the birds chirping outside. All of Aberdeen is otherwise so very quiet, save for the occasional sound of a car. The flat's super-quiet. Everyone's in bed, and the clock is ticking, and the fridge is making a very small whirring noise.

Should probably go to bed. Wheeee!

(no subject)

Neck is still pretty messed up, even though I took the couch cushions down and laid them on the floor like a strange, segmented worm of a pallet. Sigh. Slept with the window open, and that was nice. The air is deliciously cool here.

Sun is out again, so we might head to the beach for a bit. Currently clearing off pic from the camera, which is why I am even on the laptop at all. It's sorta slow-going, what with 60 seconds' worth of "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" and various semi-blurry photos of drunk people I hardly know.

They've left a key for the flat here, and I'm to meet Bob and KJ and Andy at the Bobbin for lunch, after they've sold tickets for the play for a couple of hours. They actually trust me to get there OK. I know I go down the one street, can cut through the lot for the Tescos, and then it's right next door, but oh lordy. I can totally see myself making a tactical mistake from the very door to the flat. Grah. I'll be OK. Hee. It's just, you know, I live on a city grid, and everything here is so not, and additionally, every single building here is the same sort of grey. I felt sheepish at one point when I was snapping a quick pic of King St., and KJ caught me and was all, "Why are you taking pictures of houses, anyway?"

"Um ... they're grey?"

They're also super-old and I am a dumb tourist and things just don't LOOK like this or FEEL like this, even though, essentially, it's not really different or odd or exotic. It's just, you know, shifted. The weather dictates the mood, the climate shapes the people, the way the roads slope down into town and the cars zip along and the cultures collide ... it's a different soup. The taste is cool and sweet and fairly simple and thinky.

That said, I can't wait to beat Bob's ass at Halo 2. Hee hee.

L.A. Strippers

So I forgot to mention earlier that pretty much the very first thing I had to do upon waking was to totally randomly crank call KJ's friend Kirstie, for whom she's a bridesmaid. Apparently the soon-to-be-wedded lass had been an utter pain about what KJ's been planning for their hen night, and so KJ decided to get back at her for being nosy by having various persons call her house with faux confirmations for various spas, flights, and bookings at restaurants.

With very little preamble, KJ asked if I'd be up for one such call, as an American calling from L.A. Strippers, confirming a booking with their club, and asking for a little additional information. "Sure," I said, as she punched numbers into the phone and handed it off to me. "Oh. You mean ... now?" The phone beeped as it rang through. Shit. "It's Kirstie R-----," KJ hissed, and I repeated it a mere half second before someone picked up. Gah!

"HI!" I perked brightly into the receiver, "Is Kirstie R----- there? Oh, HEY!! Good MORNING! How are you today???"

You know, it's funny. When you're a generally friendly type, and generally not the 'typical American,' you tend to get a very good idea from the British what they think a typical American is like. It's probably what you'd expect, and it's not pretty, nor very real, but it's also very funny when you can out-American them. It's as if you're doing an impression of them doing an impression of what they think an American is, which is some sort of conglomeration of Hollywood detritus plus some sort of fucked up Southern accent, a slack jaw, and a definite increase in volume. It's generally pretty funny, and perhaps 1 part frustration, and occasionally 1 part sadness. They ... think I am like this??

Anyway. So I chirped and drawled my way through a fairly short conversation, and struck gold when I asked, "Well, I'm just callin' to confirm your party for this April booking, and to get a little more info, because we like to make sure our guests are well provided for." And she immediately took the bait, falteringly mentioning to me that this was for a hen's night out, because she was getting married. I barreled right over her: "GRRRREAAAAAT!!! Oh, that's WONDERFUL! ConGRATulaaaaaaTIONS! OK, so, I just wanted to make sure you didn't have any sort of major allergies to anything, because we do serve food at our establishment, and we like to make sure everyone is provided for. Additionally, any problems with epilepsy? We do employ the use of strobe lights at our venue, as they are used in our show and all ..." I trailed off meaningfully, and she assured me she was not prone to seizures nor any sort of crazy allergy.

"EXCELLent. WONderful. Well, I just wanted to make sure everything was copacetic!!! BYE BYE now!! Bye! BYEEEEE! bye bye!" I kept repeating her response goodbyes until I could be sure I was the last bye, and then I hung up, finally daring to look Andy and KJ in the eyes. Whereupon, we all three of us cracked up.

"COPACETIC??? That's SO American! Hahahahahaahaha!" KJ said. I laughed. Really? OK. I mean, yes, that's why I said it. I dunno. Parody is so very odd when you're mocking ... yourself, sort of.

Andy and KJ and Bob went off to sell tickets for Andy's play while I spent approximately two years at the flat trying to download photos off the camera. Bob finally came up, because they finished early, and we walked over and met the others, plus Becca, at the Bobbin. The food was a bit better this time, but only cos I added generous lashings of bbq sauce and brown sauce and mayo to my burger, and then nearly drowned my chips in malt vinegar. Also, had a Pepsi, which made me realize that part of my neck ache and weird sleepiness may very well be caffeine withdrawal ... I haven't had my customary morning pot o' java since I've arrived, and in my distracted state it never occurred to me that that might be part of the achiness. Durr. I am having Andy make tea for me in the morning, as he apparently likes to be everyone's tea bitch, and I really should take advantage while I am here.

Andy and Becca split off to their various things for the day (Andy was going to relax a bit before call for his opening night), and KJ, Bob and I hopped onto the bus that wheezed to a stop right outside the Bobbin, so we could head into town and see about getting a kite or a frisbee. The original plan was to head to the beach, and fly said kite, but then it was said it might be too windy, and so we still aimed for the toy store for a frisbee, to throw around at the park. Sadly, it had just closed as we arrived, so we walked around the shops, and I got to see a catalogue store for the first time, and finally we went to Woolworth's, and bought this little napsack full of toy sets and a frisbee.

We then apparently walked over most of Aberdeen. We must have, because the blisters on my feet from Wednesday began to complain pretty freaking loudly, and even though we were walking fairly briskly, we still were nowhere near Seaton Park. Endless Old Aberdeen! Twisty streets and cobblestone roads and cool air and possibly my third wind got hit before we passed through a gate and then stamped on down a steep path to the field area of the park. The stamping was funny, because you couldn't help it. The angle of the footpath was just the right steepness that you could keep a pretty gentle walking pace, but your feet would helplessly slap down on the pavement as you kept yourself from running and tumbling the rest of the way down. There were some pretty gardens, and flashes of bright green moss around, and then we arrived into a small copse of trees that cleared out into the huge field, where we parked our things and then threw around a frisbee for a while, then played with these velcro pad mitt thingies and a fuzzy tennis ball, and then Jessica showed up, and we played and sat and played and talked and generally just enjoyed the second day of rare sunshine this week. I helped Jess remember some of the night before by mentioning my karaoke tunes. I think I had jokingly said to her, "What, you drank so much you couldn't even remember ME singing?" -- which was meant to be sarcastic because, well, why would she remember me? I am the most strangest of strangers in the whole party, but oddly, she suddenly began to remember things, once I told her what songs I sang. Heh heh, drunken amnesia. Silly Jessica.

We headed on through the park to the gate at the other side, and went to Jess and both Sarahs' place for pizza and a movie. We watched Finding Neverland, which was sort of a wash, seeing as how it had been sent to Sarah 1 from her parents in the States, and so we had to play it on her laptop, which had rather weak speakers. Everyone was pretty scornful of the movie from the get-go, and with that and the hard-to-hear bits because of the joking and mocking and then some other random flatmate boiling the hell out of some spinach in the kitchen area behind us, I really got no good idea at all what I thought of the movie. I'll have to try and view it again sometime, I guess. We had pizza, and then left shortly after, to hoof it on back to the flat. The blisters on my feet hurt something worse now, but the neck appears to be healing a bit. We got back, and then Andy arrived back from his play, and we watched The Incredibles. I fell asleep right towards the end.

And so here I am now. Heh. I can see through the window here that it's quite foggy out, and quite cool. The air coming in is sweetly cold and clean. The blue light of the lamp above my head is soothing and pretty in the night. I am happy, and a little wistful, and feeling quite improvisational.

(no subject)

I've got a sudden perverse urge to send a message to Andy's mobile through MSN messenger, but I won't, because it probably costs him money when I do that, and he IS trying to sleep. Still, the urge is there, slightly insane and all. Heheheheheheheheh.