Can I Glasgow You A Question? || Scotland, Part III

If you're reading this on Friday morning, there's a huge likelihood that I am in hysterics at this very moment. I'll be entering the sacred doors of the Harry Potter Studio Tour, and I might not survive it. I'll do my best.

If I do manage to survive the emotions and the heart palpitations and the poverty (from spending all my money at the gift shop), and the high glucose levels (from too many Butterbeers, obviously)... I'll report back with stories. Promise.

It's fitting that I tell you about Glasgow today. Before we made our journey there, our directors told us that the university looks remarkably like Hogwarts. 

BUT FIRST.

We made a detour through the Highlands. It was certainly a sight for sore eyes - there was leftover snow, woodland creatures (well like... sheep. And a random llama.), forests, windy roads, rainbows, rain, sunshine, mountains, lakes, farms, basically anything you can think of.

We stopped at Loch Lomond for two hours. It. Was. Beautiful. No, the Loch Ness Monster didn't swim all the way from Loch Ness - I made sure to keep an eye out for him, but he was coy. Or, he just wanted to be a homebody and didn't make the journey to come see us.

The loch was definitely something we needed to see, but we were a little disappointed to see that it was so touristy and commercialized. Regardless, it was a wonder!

Calories don't count when you are immersed in natural beauty, you see. We had Highland beef burgers, too much fudge, Nutella hot chocolates, and a gingerbread man who broke his leg because he was running away from us too fast! It frightens me that this is the damage we did in a mere two hours.

Finally, we made our way to Glasgow. To be honest, I didn't connect with the city as much as I did with Edinburgh. This is very likely because we only got to see the university and a couple of museums and didn't even make it to city center. It was very pretty and the museums were wonderful (one of Dali's paintings was on display and it was beyond moving). 

... we even made friends! ;)
Okay, I apologize I sound so hurried right now. My nerves are unsettled and my hands are shaking because the time has come to grab coffees and yumminess from Borough Market and then... Hogwarts.
Keep me in your thoughts.

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You Know Your Roommate Is A Blogger When...

Do you guys still remember my roommate/best friend/soul sister, Cassandra? (You might want to say yes, or else she will probably cry.)

Back at Stanford, I'm usually with her every second of every day. People do a double take if they see one of us without the other. She's been on this blog more than a few times, and also plays a huge behind-the-scenes role in being my reluctant photographer and constant reader/commenter/supporter.

Well, she had a few things to say about what it's like living and being friends with a blogger. Let's see if you agree!
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I'm baaaaack!

It's me! The infamous 'roommate.' Better known as 'the person responsible for like 80% of Caroline's pictures.' You're welcome. I know you all just LOVE the sub-par photography skills I have graced your precious blog-reading-time with. (Except now that she's abroad, I'm afraid that I cannot take credit for any of these b-e-a-UTIFUL photographs). 

Caroline: this is irrelevant, but I like her because she surprises me with coffee and food sometimes.

Alas, I have been forced into writing chosen to write this post because I know you all can completely relate (and if not you, then hand it to the person you live with. They'll get it.).

YOU KNOW YOUR ROOMMATE (significant other/best friend) IS A BLOGGER WHEN...

1. Every single meal is accompanied with a side of "WAIT STOP... I need a picture".

Hold up... you NEED a picture? No, Caroline. I NEED to eat this. I am starving. I already spent 2 hours waiting for you to get dressed, do you hair, makeup, etc. I am now about to die of hunger. (Did I mention that I might be a tad overdramatic)? 

Caroline's Confession: I make Cassandra arrange/style my food and then take pictures of me.

Caroline: I also like her because she buys me magazines with Jennifer Lawrence on the cover sometimes. AND she stood on a wobbly chair to get the perfect shot.

2. As I mentioned above... an excessive amount of time is put into getting ready to go out in public NOT because she is worried she'll see somebody she knows but because every outing quickly turns into a photo-op at a moment's notice. 

I can't complain too much about this because I too fall into this category (I am, after all, merely mortal... and female) but it is very noticeable when the other 99% of the time said blogger and I comfortably live in sweats and sports bras - except on those blessed days we try to spice it up with some yoga pants. 

Normal class outfit.

Blog class outfit.

3. Needless to say, he/she is addicted to blogging... or maybe just very, very dedicated to his/her blog. For example: I was supposed to write this post a long time ago and I finally got around to it... but in the meantime, Caroline put together 'her own version' of this post. Which included her own list. 

In the words of Caroline:

"Remember to include that one time - you know, about the kitten. When I kept saying I wanted a cat and you said 'you only want a cat so you can blog about it.' Yeah, make sure you put that one in there."

Do you just want to write this post, Caroline?

Caroline: Well MAYBE, because this is what happens when you try to.

4. You start becoming educated on completely (irrelevant yet) random concepts ranging anywhere from world travel to fashion to child raising. 

I cannot tell you how many times I have heard "okay, so there is this restaurant in [insert random country/state/city] that we absolutely have to try." Very rarely is said restaurant within a reasonable driving distance. BUT, I must admit, I do have many a recommendations for others who are traveling to these extravagant places (it makes me sound well travelled and hip and knowledgable).

Caroline: Let's not forget about where I learned about BiRite. (It was technically because my sister told me, but a lot of bloggers like BiRite too.)

5. You love him/her so, so much because of how much time they spend documenting important things happening in your shared life. If your beloved blogger is anything like Caroline, then they spend an inordinate amount of time putting together these wonderful blog post for others to enjoy! (And it's always so much fun to go back and revisit your life in blog form). 

Bonus: He/she tries to convince you to do silly things just because it would look good on the blog. i.e. "you should totally buy a kitten even though I'm leaving you for Oxford for 15 weeks". 

Caroline: oh, you DON'T like pets, then?

Caroline: I also post sentimental social media things on her accounts.

Extra Bonus: You find yourself being able to hold conversations about people you have never met before - "oh my gosh, did you see Aspiring Kennedy's post about that museum?" 

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Can you see why I (sometimes) (most of the time) love her so much? Next, we should have my other bestie/current overseas roommate contribute. I bet she has a lot to add.

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Ain't No Mountain High Enough... Except This One || Scotland, Part II

{ the most modern Parliament building I've ever seen }

Originally, I was giddy with excitement to get to share my second day - perhaps, one of my favorite days this year, thus far - in the beautiful city of Edinburgh with you on Friday.
But something tragic happened early on Friday. And while I won't go into specifics except to let you know that it wasn't anything directly affecting me or anyone close to me, I'll say that it was just as sad and upsetting and terrible, and that the only conclusion I had after a day's worth of half-hearted rumination was that life is fleeting. It really, really is.
That realization has since made all of my recent memories all the more... memorable. Isn't this what life's about? Traveling far and wide with friends, laughter, seeing all the wonders left behind by those who've come before us, and being thankful and appreciative of all the experiences we're fortunate enough to have?
So here I am, sharing this day full of laughter and joy and some tribulations, too. 

{Holyrood Palace - the Queen's official residence in Scotland }

{ on the right is Mary Queen of Scots's tower }

Our first stop on Saturday morning was Holyrood Palace. The Queen stays here for a week every year on her official visit. It's also where a number of kings and queens resided, including Mary Queen of Scots. After a really interesting audio guide led us through official rooms and bedrooms and gardens and old abbeys, I felt like I had traveled back in time and was merely traipsing around my own home for a couple of hours.

Obviously upon returning to the hotel later, I went on a Wikipedia frenzy, learning all the things (all the things!) about Mary Queen of Scots I possibly could. And now, I want to watch the CW show about her because that's the most historically accurate depiction out there. (.........said no one ever.) (But I actually do want to see it.)

SO THEN, we decided to hike Arthur's Seat. 

Everyone told us that it was an easy peasy 45 minutes and that we would be treated to amazing panoramic views.

...I'm not trusting "everyone" ever again.

Because my group took more or less two hours there and back. It was muddy and slippery and a certain someone who shall not be named (Lauren) fell twice. Lightly. And somehow, we ventured off the beaten path to scale the side of the steepest part. It was literally like, oh look! A path! It won't take us anywhere, let's ignore it and pull ourselves up on a steep, vertical rock formation instead. 

I comforted myself by telling myself that I was building character. Of course I was.

The whole time Soon, this was me... 

By the time we were actually climbing boulders and "going in zig-zag formation," I was red in the face, barely breathing, and sat down to take a breather multiple times. I hate that I seem like a pansy right now because all of these pictures show a nice, paved path. But just know that there was a treacherous 30 minutes when I was scared I was going to tumble down the jagged side of this (extinct) volcano.

The top! I will admit that once I heaved my way to the top (we also somehow decided to get to the tippy top point instead of the flat part of Arthur's Seat... clearly, I was not a part of the vote), the views were more than worth the trek.

Get this. At the top, as we're taking picture after picture of ourselves, we look over and see that a couple is getting engaged! Cue the tears and the whisper-shrieks. We sneakily snapped a bunch of photos, tracked them down afterwards, and offered to e-mail them. Good deed of the day, done!

Another engagement?! There must be something in the water!

I will say this. Although I did think I was going to pass out at regular intervals, I would've done it all over again, and not only for the views. My friends, most of whom I've only known since mid-January, were champions. Yes, they did seem to be able to speedily make their way up the mountain without much trouble (is being in shape a thing now?), but they were brilliant at coaching me through despair and hopelessness. And they're really funny, guys. Really funny.

On our way down, we somehow found a really easy path to take (of course.), except that we followed it all the way down and somehow ended on the wrong side of the mountain. Only us. So then, it took us an extra thirty or forty minutes to get back into city center, but it was fine because I was promised lunch and coffee here...

The Elephant House! It's the cafe where JK Rowling (allegedly) (proven through security cameras) started writing Harry Potter on napkins. It's elephant-themed and really adorable, actually, with really decent food and mochas. 

But the kicker is the bathroom, the "Harry Potty." Look -

Cool, right? I spent like thirty minutes in there reading all the notes. And I was dumb enough not to bring a pen, or else I would've added my own blurb.

At night, we were signed up for a ghost tour (against my will). If you know me, you know I'm the biggest scaredy-cat there ever was. Pretty Little Liars scares me. My roommate had to talk me through the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland... that 5-year-olds were taking in stride. I just can't do scary.

Three seconds into the tour, I was clinging onto my friend Nick for dear life. Twenty minutes into the two hour ghost tour, I'd had enough. I was hyperventilating, had goosebumps all over, and was jumping at every windblown piece of litter. And then when the tour guide stole my best friend away from me to show how people were hung back in the day, I was out. Nope. No more. 

Instead, I kidnapped my best friend back and when everyone turned the corner to go down into the Vaults (absolutely not), we peaced out to get food. David Bann was a restaurant that I really wanted to visit, but our friend had called earlier and they were fully booked. Lauren and I decided to stop by and try our luck and lo and behold, they had a table available for just under two hours!

Can you see the fear still in my eyes? Lauren ordered champagne so that I could settle my nerves.

Is this a risotto, or is this a plate of divinity? You tell me.

We shared dessert, like everyone else did in the restaurant. But not because we were on our Valentine's Day date like they were, but because we are partners in all gastronomic activity.

Later, we joined our friends Nick, Victoria, and Matt for a whiskey tasting (which essentially involved me watching my friends taste whiskey) and a last walk down the Royal Mile, before returning to our hotel for a view like the one above and a night's sleep before departing for the Highlands and Glasgow the next day!

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