Attempts to Feel Good Lost

Now when I said that Scotland was really into fire safety, I wasn't kidding.  We had a fire drill at 8:30 this morning.  

Eight.  Thirty.  

Granted, we were warned about this drill in advance, but I had forgotten about it until I went to bed last night, which made it considerably harder for me to sleep, as it usually is when I have an imminent wake-up call.

Maybe my American schooling has numbed me to the concept of fire drills.  I've been through so many "drills" in my life that the alarm never seems to phase me, and I think Sarah must have had a similar upbringing because both of us treated the drill this morning as a joke.  My brain clock woke me up a little before 8:45 and I just lay there in bed for a few minutes with the light streaming through my putrid yellow curtains, waiting for the shrill yodel of the alarm, covering my ears in anticipation.  Sure enough, the alarm rang at 8:45, and while everyone fled the building like a bat out of hell, Sarah and I took our time.  I sat up in bed, stretched, pulled on warmer pajama bottoms without a care in the world, and slipped my sneakers on while Sarah actually changed her clothes.  We both wandered listlessly down the stairs and out of the building where we were greeted by the fire marshal and everyone else in the building who obviously took the drill more seriously.  Since when do people actually rush out of the building when they hear a fire alarm?  What is this, some kind of drill?

The fire marshal, obviously surprised to see us emerge so long after sounding the alarm, asked, "Could you hear the alarm from your room?  Was it clear?"

"Crystal," I said, with eyes half open, giving him the thumbs up.

No more drills, he warned us, next time you hear an alarm, it will be the real thing.

A real fire?  How exciting!

Watched "Half Nelson" last night, and loved it.  Ryan Gosling was curiously talented at playing a crack-addled teacher, but I thought the girl who played his student was the best, and it baffles me that she never received any recognition for it during the Oscar season.  After the movie, I listened to "You Forgot It in People" for about an hour, as most of that album provided the soundtrack for the film.  It seems to me that when we are at our most depressed or homesick, we cling to these fantasies and daydreams that help us escape.  I am under the impression, especially after watching that movie, that everything in this world is a drug, and getting addicted to something is easy, no matter what it is.  I could listen to Broken Social Scene, or think about Ryan Gosling's baby blue eyes forever.  I could look through photo albums on Facebook and pretend I am in Beloit, or watch iconic cult-web phenomena from my freshman year but it's not like I'm actually living in the present while doing so.  Better options, at this point, would be to explore Glasgow, write stories, read novels--anything that doesn't involve a screen.

In fact, I wrote a short story the other day about a neglected wife sitting in her living room who eventually thrusts her hands into the fireplace in a desperate phoenix-like attempt to feel alive.  Not sure what that says about my state of mind, but I guess I might find out when the story gets work-shopped on Saturday in class.

I don't know how to aptly describe what it is like being in another country; it's hard to think of Glasgow as just another city to live in and call home.  I think one can call any place home given some time, but I don't think I've hit that marker just yet.  The only moments when I feel like I actually live here are when I go out at night, but then, after a few visits to the rustic pubs that remind me of the good ol' boys from home or the warm bars on cold Wisconsin nights, I return to my apartment, besot with my memories of a previous life.

I suppose I'll eventually emerge from this funk like some sort of phoenix, though hopefully it won't require any kind of literal fire, like in my apartment building.  If I decide to listen to Broken Social Scene all day and dream about hunky movie stars until then, so be it.