Wednesday, March 28, 2007
It's hard to believe that it has been exactly one year since i arrived in Glasgow, slightly sedated from my overnight flight from Toronto (and a Xanax). One year since i arrived in a country that i had not spent more than two weeks in for 7 years; one year since i naively stepped up to immigration and declared my intentions - only to be greeted with a grimace and forlorn grunts. It's hard to believe that in one year i relocated to another country with no job, no house, no security and only two suitcases stuffed to the seam with my worldly belongings - not to mention those that were left behind in Canada. It's a sad thing to admit that you miss your vinyl collection and pistachio-coloured Kitchen Aid mixer.
It took me a couple months to realise this but now i admit it freely: i am so glad that i took that step; transitioning from the safe world of Toronto to the unknown paths of Glasgow. i can't imagine what my life would have been like if i hadn't but i envision it being swathed in an overwhelming sense of anxiety, depression, and yearning. i feel as if a weight has been lifted and i'm elated that i no longer have to say i wish to move back here.
And what a long and strange journey it's been. If i had never gone to Queen's University (i shiver to think of it now), i would have never gone on exchange to Glasgow University. And if i had never gone to Glasgow, i would have no idea how amazing this place is. And i would never have met the friends that i did whilst "studying" on exchange - friends who helped and encouraged me to come back.
In the past year i have experienced so much: from eating in my new favourite restaurant whilst in close proximity to the lead singer of Franz Ferdinand (what's-his-name-Alex-Something) to getting into law school to exploring world class museums and dodgy flea markets (i.e. The Barras) to working at Scottish Television and the Opera. In the past year i've never felt more fiercely Canadian and have never felt so homesick for family and Toronto. In the past year i've never appreciated and loved my friends and family as much as i do now.
And if i had never moved back here and walked into the right bar at the right time, i might never have met Paul. Apart from the plethora of brilliant sweets and chocolates, meeting Paul has been one of the most amazing aspects of moving to Scotland. Of course, that amazement of meeting has worn off now (that was sarcasm, just in case you didn't realise it).
My alcohol consumption has increased and dental hygiene is all but a distant memory now. And so, Glasgow, i drink to you, you pasty-white old whore, you. Here's to another year of drunken misadventures, salty chips at 2am, sticky night club floors, reading the Guardian on Saturday mornings, lemon curd and milky tea, Tunnocks Tea Cakes, Diet Irn Bru for breakfast, Scots Porridge Oats, and Schemie boyfriends!