it is my pleasure to inform you that this blog post is going to be in two parts. the first part is dedicated to my flatmate Rona. This is Rona:
Doesn't she look cool? She lives in the room next to mine in our super groovy and fabulous flat. she is a vegetarian who enjoys a good bbq outside on a nice day, wearing cool clothes and dancing to disco music. we have enjoyed numerous fun times in the 2 and a half weeks since i have been in scotland, and i am sure that we will have more. rona is a fount of knowledge and good times, and i hear that she is a marvelous cook as well.
she asked me to dedicate a blog post to her, so that was her dedication. hope that's good enough for ya rona. :)
the second part of this blog post is all about why i am not a club person. in my first couple of days in stirling, i ventured out to the Red Room (a club on campus) with three of my new found american friends. it was decent, they claimed to be having an indie night but they played pop music, and the drinks were expensive. it was also extremely crowded and my face got licked (literally) by a total stranger. so grody. but i told myself that that was not typical of a club scene, that there would be more room for dancing in a normal club and less people would try to lick my face. which brings me to last night. i was invited to go to Dusk, another night club around stirling, with the american crew as i have now come to know them. so i went, hoping for a more enjoyable experience. i was hoping for it to be like sigma nu on a good night, with space for me to bust a move to my favorite jam--waka waka (this time for africa) by shakira. we had to wait in a long queue to get in, and luckily i had a pass for a one pound entry b/c the entry fee was 4 pounds. then we got in, waited in line for the toilet and nearly got beat up by a fat girl in a tiny dress. she yelled at me and my friend hana, saying we cut her in line (which we clearly didn't) and since she was rather large we decided to just let her get in front of us. she was still rude to us for the rest of the line waiting time, and tried to fight our other friends as well. how rude. then we decided it was dancing time, so we wiggled our way through the massive crowd to the tiny dance floor where we attempted to shake it but were continuously jossled and pushed by the masses of sweaty people. i made my way to a wall so i could dance without gropage by randos, where i made friends with a tiny man who came up to my shoulders and we did silly dance moves. it was more humid in the club than the nastiest day in summer in georgia, and i was pretty much ready to leave after about 20 minutes. it made me miss pc and the drunk bus, quite frankly. i did get some excellent pictures though, like this:
so therefore, i have concluded, that i am a pub girl. i like to sit and enjoy my drinks while being able to talk to my friends and not sweating so much that i feel like i just got out of the shower, only sticky, and not being able to move, or do the waka waka dance when they play the song. i mean really.
lots of love,