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1. Blue cider.
I drank blue cider on Friday night. No, honestly, I did, purely on the basis that it was blue. You see, I rather like those sticky drinks that taste of 'blue' and I rather like cider.
Turns out, though, the two combined? I do not like. Who the hell looked as a pint of cider and thought 'could be more blue?'
2. Slang.
I adapted to Scotland, you see, and know what words like foosty and chib and braw mean. I can ever puzzle my way through Scots. I am very puzzled by a piece of graffiti I see on my way to the train every morning; 'Tony Wilkes is slim.'
Is Tony Wilkes an everyman figure, or does he really exist? Is he justifiably proud of a weight-loss achievement, or does slim refer to some sort of other quality, possible negative? I DO NOT KNOW.
3. Ormskirk train station.
They used to have a ticket office, and a machine. Now they have just a ticket office, with only one window ever open. I turn up ten minutes early to buy a ticket, as I have a railcard that gets a third off ticket prices and the amount of times I need to go into town a week it is cheaper to buy these tickets rather than the railpasses. On Saturday, I still missed my train. Fortunately, I try to catch the train that gets me in twenty minutes early so I was still just about on time, but still. WHY.
4. Youth television.
My sister watches a lot of Gossip Girl, Ugly Betty, stuff like that. I do not understand the appeal. I do not understand why I am being somehow encouaged to just allow her to watch this all bloody day. Also do not see appeal. Then, I never did.
5. Why I am now posh.
Because, um, I'm not. People either assume I am posh or Scottish, something which I highly hilarious to me as a concept. And then makes me sad, as I realise I will never really fit in anywhere again.
Ah well.
6. Dress sense.
Argh, argh, argh, people dress WEIRD, where are the people in the Barbour waxed jackets and tweed and pajamas why are there so many floral dresses and asymmetrical lines I did not think people took the fashion advice in More! magazine so literally.
7. Why people around here hate students (and use the local paper as the medium to express this hatred.)
In St Andrews, students were reviled. There were those who, I think, would rather see a house on fire than have a HMO licence. The local Tory councillor was notorious for this, actually. Round here, though, it's frightening. My sister is especially vicious. Weirdly, I think it's a class thing, linked to point 5; students are always 'the other', a middle-class invasion into cheap housing, a feeling that they are somehow encroaching on 'your' territory. This is rarely true; I made an effort to be polite to my neighbours, kept the house and garden clean, that sort of thing. I even paid council tax one time and EVERYTHING. Most Edge Hill students seem to do the same.
Still, it makes the letters page hilarious. I have been advised that Joan Singleton is more fun than your average Tory politican on American telly.
There are lots of things I am having some difficulty adapating too, but right now these are the major blocking points. Collectormania next week though, yay! Small mercies. Or it would be if The Man About The Car ever phoned.
I drank blue cider on Friday night. No, honestly, I did, purely on the basis that it was blue. You see, I rather like those sticky drinks that taste of 'blue' and I rather like cider.
Turns out, though, the two combined? I do not like. Who the hell looked as a pint of cider and thought 'could be more blue?'
2. Slang.
I adapted to Scotland, you see, and know what words like foosty and chib and braw mean. I can ever puzzle my way through Scots. I am very puzzled by a piece of graffiti I see on my way to the train every morning; 'Tony Wilkes is slim.'
Is Tony Wilkes an everyman figure, or does he really exist? Is he justifiably proud of a weight-loss achievement, or does slim refer to some sort of other quality, possible negative? I DO NOT KNOW.
3. Ormskirk train station.
They used to have a ticket office, and a machine. Now they have just a ticket office, with only one window ever open. I turn up ten minutes early to buy a ticket, as I have a railcard that gets a third off ticket prices and the amount of times I need to go into town a week it is cheaper to buy these tickets rather than the railpasses. On Saturday, I still missed my train. Fortunately, I try to catch the train that gets me in twenty minutes early so I was still just about on time, but still. WHY.
4. Youth television.
My sister watches a lot of Gossip Girl, Ugly Betty, stuff like that. I do not understand the appeal. I do not understand why I am being somehow encouaged to just allow her to watch this all bloody day. Also do not see appeal. Then, I never did.
5. Why I am now posh.
Because, um, I'm not. People either assume I am posh or Scottish, something which I highly hilarious to me as a concept. And then makes me sad, as I realise I will never really fit in anywhere again.
Ah well.
6. Dress sense.
Argh, argh, argh, people dress WEIRD, where are the people in the Barbour waxed jackets and tweed and pajamas why are there so many floral dresses and asymmetrical lines I did not think people took the fashion advice in More! magazine so literally.
7. Why people around here hate students (and use the local paper as the medium to express this hatred.)
In St Andrews, students were reviled. There were those who, I think, would rather see a house on fire than have a HMO licence. The local Tory councillor was notorious for this, actually. Round here, though, it's frightening. My sister is especially vicious. Weirdly, I think it's a class thing, linked to point 5; students are always 'the other', a middle-class invasion into cheap housing, a feeling that they are somehow encroaching on 'your' territory. This is rarely true; I made an effort to be polite to my neighbours, kept the house and garden clean, that sort of thing. I even paid council tax one time and EVERYTHING. Most Edge Hill students seem to do the same.
Still, it makes the letters page hilarious. I have been advised that Joan Singleton is more fun than your average Tory politican on American telly.
There are lots of things I am having some difficulty adapating too, but right now these are the major blocking points. Collectormania next week though, yay! Small mercies. Or it would be if The Man About The Car ever phoned.
