"Pomegranates bring out the worst in me."

A guy studying here from Middlebury takes his pomegranates very seriously. He's also a very talented pianist.

This past week I've focused on getting two essays prepared for their due dates next week, so forgive my absence, dear reader. I still haven't started the second essay, but it will get done. It always gets done.

Last week was a bit of a let down after Inverness, I'm afraid. I expended a lot of time and energy trying to digest and package the Highlands weekend into pictures, journal entries, etc. I've also been a bit sleep deprived, the result of having very exuberant neighbors and paper-thin walls. Combined with a spike in workload, my demeanor has been rather gray.

BUT my life has taken a pretty interesting (and I hope meaningful) turn in the last week or so. For one, I've rediscovered my love of running. Sure, I've been running on and off for years, but I'm really enjoying my runs now, even look forward to them. I have a goal to run the half-marathon on Earth Day in the spring, and I'm drawing from a deep-well of resolve and positive energy at the moment. I've decided to make running my therapy; it calms me in a way that no other activity can.

Secondly, I know what I want to do after graduation. I've played around with the idea of the Peace Corps for years, but I've never really committed my mind to it. I always thought I'd go to somewhere in Eastern Europe, where I could use my Russian. But I don't know much about Eastern Europe, and all I have to go on is a vague interest and affection for the place, probably born out of watching Fiddler on the Roof. But it never took hold, never assumed any greater meaning than an inclination. But now, I think I know where I want to go: the Philippines. It hit me when I received an email from my mother, telling me that much of our family over there had to be evacuated after the typhoon and flooding earlier this month. They're all ok, but the situation is dire for the country, with shortages of clean water, food, sanitation, etc. I'm not in a position to help them, and I feel terrible about that. I want to make it up to them. Going there for two years, learning the language, engaging in my culture in a way that I never have before would, and helping, finally giving back after all my years living in privilege in America, would be a meaningful, worthwhile devotion of my time after college. I'm really, genuinely excited about graduation in a couple years now. I've never felt that before. Having purpose is so fortifying.

Anyway, Scotland. I haven't left St. Andrews since Inverness, so I've had a lot of opportunities to get to know people better. Last week I attended Poetry and Cake (!) with Brennon, and we met up beforehand to make puppy chow (great success with the British students, by the way). We had a blast, and stayed for over 2 hours. It's such a simple thing, but when implemented well, very enjoyable. There was this guy from Maine who recited at least 10 pages of Kipling poetry by heart. Amazing. Another read some Russian poetry. I shared my favorite John Montague poem ("Uprooting"). I plan on making Poetry and Cake a weekly thing.

I also went to my first "JuggleSoc" meeting. I...was a little surprised. I was expecting the St. Andrews crowd to have the edge on talent, but they're all pretty amateur, I guess. I was one of the best jugglers there, and I don't think that's ever happened. I tried my hand at juggling knives, but I lost confidence and didn't do more than 2 (they're really heavy). I was also a little disappointed with their equipment, which was a little shoddy (though they have a lot more than Kenyon). I guess Nathan really knows what he's talking about when he orders from Dube. But there's a fire meeting this Monday, out on Castle Sands, and I'll definitely be there.

Right now, everyone is planning their Reading Week travels in November. I spent last night talking to Aaron, the Amherst guy, about Rome, where he will be spending the week. Oh, I really want to go back! But I'm not bowing to temptation; I need to see more of Europe. So, I will be traveling with John and Juliana from York, to London, to Paris, to Frankfurt (to see an airfield that John's grandfather helped build during the War), and end in Berlin, taking a flight back to Edinburgh. It's fast-paced, but I think we can do it. Paris! So excited.

The Royal Post is on strike, so I have no idea what will happen to this next batch of postcards that I'm sending out. Wherever you are, I hope you are getting my mail.