"Study" Abroad. Right.

This week I don't have any class.  I'm serious.  Whoever told me that I would be "studying" abroad was obviously joking.  I have, tops, about two hours of class a day, maybe three.  I'm taking Scottish Literature, An Exploration into Scottish Culture, and a creative writing course, yet today I found myself migrating from the computer to my bed with zero obligation to be anywhere at any time.  I wrote a lot, started Waverly for my Scotlit class, and that was about it.  At around 7, Sarah and I went to a "beginners" ultimate frisbee practice.  Since frisbee is such a big part of the culture at Beloit, I thought I might as well learn the ropes, and by "learn the ropes" I mean run around an indoor playing field like a headless chicken while people who might as well be speaking gibberish tell me to do things.  Sarah was telling me that at Dartmouth, the learning process for a beginner to become acclimated to the game is a lot slower, whereas here they just sort of throw you into the game and see what happens.  Also, let it be known that men in the UK do not believe in deodorant.  In fact, they seem vehemently opposed to it.  I have encountered offensive body odor (the offender almost always being male) on more occasions than I would like to admit.  I may have been a headless chicken tonight, but boy was my sense of smell kickin'.

Tomorrow, I have only an hour of class, and then I have to figure out what to do with the rest of my day again.  Never thought I would be eager for the structure of a rigorous schedule until now.  I could go out and about, I suppose, but I've been to all the museums in my area, seen the botanical gardens, the library, etc, which leaves me only with places to spend money and I can't, I WON'T do that.  

Today I watched a few episodes of season 9 of "The Simpsons," but I have to say that watching my cherished television series only made me feel homesick.  It was sort of a bittersweet viewing, because on the one hand I was missing home, wishing my sister was there to enjoy the jokes with me, but on the other hand I was beside myself with giggles.  I forgot how good that episode is when Bart sells his soul, or when the Flanders become the Simpson children's foster parents.  Then I watched Treehouse of Horror, the one where Groundskeeper Willie plays the Freddy Krueger-type in a Nightmare on Elm Street parody, and that hit a little too close to home, especially since I've been having strange dreams as of late, not of evil Scotsman necessarily, but dreams that wake me up in the middle of the night and don't even have the decency to stay in my mind long enough for me to decipher their meaning.  I never seem to fall asleep completely these days.  I get up a lot during the night feeling like I wasn't sleeping at all.

Sorry this post was rather boring.  My life today was rather boring.  Did I mention I made a really good omelet tonight?  Well, I made a really good omelet tonight.

Love,

Caitlin

P.S. Digestive biscuits are dope.