Cardiff Giant? You talking about the Cardiff Giant?

A very brief update; I’ve arrived in Cardiff, I’ve seen many things in languages that look as though it can’t possibly be real; my host is absolutely amazing, and I’m being put up with them and a Japanese professor of psychology. I’ve tried to be a decent interpreter, as best I can. They have an extremely energetic Springer Spanier and I ate lamb for dinner. I saw the parliament buidling, the Millenium Center (an Opera House), and a bay that was just created two years ago. Many pictures to come, Scavenger hunt tomorrow in St Fagan’s.

Pink diesel and no light switches

Today was quite the productive day. I’ve opened a bank account, and, perhaps what’s more important, it appears I have two job offers to give me money to put into that very account. One is at a small hotel as a night porter from 7-11, 5 nights a week. The other is a miscellaneous waitstaff job at a slightly bigger hotel, for some unspecified shifts. Both seem to be decent enough, with decent enough working environments. I’ve got two training sessions next week (one for each), and then I spose I’ll decide which I’ll do full part-time.

The soles of my shoes worn thin; my pockets threadbare

After a day of pounding the pavement and trying to give my CV to whoever would possibly take it, I am more exercised, but no more significantly closer to finding gainful employment. I have a few applications to fill out toinight and turn in tomorrow, but nothing looks terribly promising. The local chip shop isn’t even hiring except for drivers, but I don’t think I’ll risk my neck to get someone’s fish and chips to them. Crazy Brits driving stick shifts and on the wrong side of the road too.

It’s the little things

I really haven’t had much of a problem adjusting to culture shock here. Part of the reason is that there is a huge American population here and on top of that, the post-grads are almost entirely international. This makes it really easy to relate to people, but I feel like I’m missing out on meeting some of the local Scots. I’ve been lucky that my flatmate, Garry, is from Aberdeen, so he’s been introducing me to the indigenous minority, as they say here.

I’m a bad blogger

I’ve been living life too much to be blogging a lot. Man, I hate using that verb, yet it’s right there in the title. Oh, the pains we go through to be succinct. I’ve met a number of really cool people here; yesterday I was having a conversation in my department with an Irish butcher and a kid from Hong Kong, while standing in our department’s lawn overlooking the sea. It’s a bit surreal from time to time.

I have, however, taken a huge number of pictures…

More Photos

Some more photos of the lands around. My batteries are still dead, but they kept letting me take one photograph at a time. So, I have a few, but nothing of my flat yet. I bought some rechargables, so I’ll be set for a while

In other news, there’s this really great article on tea in the New York Times. The new tea bag is a bit exciting, but a dollar for a mesh bag? yikes. And people not wanting to brew a whole pot? Weaklings I say. Bah. Also, this is a neat little discussion of California’s role in developing cleaner energies. (Thanks Hans).

Virtual Tour Delayed by Faulty, Chinatown Batteries

So, apparently the $2 AAs I bought in Chinatown two days ago weren’t the best deal; my camera is dead, so I’ll have to pick up some batteries in town before I can take pictures of my interior surroundings. Yesterday was spent mostly scrubbing the kitchen to make it decently clean; I still have the fridge to do and some more organizing. My bags arrived, however. I barely caught the guy delivering them though. He was sitting in the parking lot complaining about how I hadn’t given him a flat number. Well, for all you delivery guys(or girls) out there, my address is the following:

28 Albany Park

St Mary Street

St Andrews

Fife

KY16 9BP

SCOTLAND

With all those Saints in the address, I feel like I should go to church. So off I go.

When I travel, I’m Charlie Brown

That’s right, everything that can possibly go wrong does when I travel. Particualarly when I travel through Heathrow. A run down of mishaps, and some early pictures.

Remind me never to Travel to Heathrow Again#

Almost everything that could have possibly gone wrong has, but I’ve survived through to heathrow. Soon to \Edinburgh, and then later tonight I’ll give a more detailed desciription of traveling hell.

Last night, and perhaps my most revealing post.

Tonight is my last night in the States for an unforeseen amount of time. I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon at 6:45 to fly to Heathrow and then on to Edinburgh. I’m sitting here in a group of my friends having a cookout (how very American). I’m trying to think over how this trip would have gone had I been going off for undergraduate, rather than graduate school. It’s hard to examine myself as a person–I think it’s hard for anyone to examine themselves with an objective eye.