Hi Loves!

This is my new blog! Taa daa! It remains to be seen, however, whether or not I will actually write in it, but let's err on the side of optimism, shall we? Anyway, this first story is too good not to share, as it involves some drama in my bathroom with a genuine Scottish man. (Ooh, I have your attention now, don't I? Heh, heh.) Anyway, the trip here went more smoothly than I had dared hope...all connections were made, no luggage was lost, no hard time was given about my reasons for entering the country. As you can imagine, though, I was more than ready for a shower and sleep after arriving at my new apt. Think of my extreme chagrin, then, when about five minutes into my much-anticipated shower, I realized that the bathroom floor was under at least an inch of water and there were no signs of the drain doing its draining thang. The bathroom was flooded, the carpet was flooded, and the water had seeped out under my door like in a scene from "Titanic." Naturally, I was displeased. So I reported it and today the drain guy came. The drain guy (aka "My New BFF") was charming, Scottish, and at least a hundred and twenty years old. I was rather concerned about his ability to get up from my bathroom floor where he knelt eyeing the drain professionally, but he was a spry old gent and soon put me at ease with his frequent "Jesus Christs!" and "Bloody Hells!" (the second expression was a particular favourite, I gathered). He then informed me that not only did my drain have the worst clog he had ever seen in my apartment complex (which, ps, is only two years old) but one of the worst he had seen anywhere. Let's take a moment to remember here that some of the buildings at this University are over 500 years old. Keeping in mind that this man has probably been around for about ninety of those years himself, that, my friends, is a lot of drains. Already I have gained distinction in this, my adopted homeland.