It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

People dressed as reindeer peeing on people? Eight-foot Santa causing small babies to cry? Bagpiping bands introducing the smallest and most pathetic parade in history??? Yep, it's Christmas in Scotland baby, and it's never been so beautiful.

Christmas is huge here. And I guess it is everywhere else too--but here I have noticed it particularly. People go all out, pubs go all out and the bloody street vendors go all out--and it is only the middle of November. Oh dear.

Besides this being only my second week in Aberdeen (and the start of my third) what is adding to the homesickness feeling has been the incredible amount of Christmas nonesense that has gone on. Don't get me wrong. I adore Christmas. The fanfare, the lights, the tacky decorations, the mockery of religious intent--it's all good to me.

But it really does, in all it's disgusting good-hearted-consumerist glory, make you think of family and your loved ones. And let's face it--most of my loved ones are miles away. Across an ocean really. So while I am thinking of loved ones, walking down the Christmas gagged Union street, I had a bit of a break down. Actually I had to go into a bookstore (Waterstones) to calm down. After stroking a few uncracked spines and lovingly nuzzling some untreated 100lb high bulk paper of a Marian Keyes novel, I got a better grip on reality. My last Christmas I stayed in Toronto (and didn't go back to the fam in Calgary) and I worked at a bookstore over the holidays. This probably saved my life. That, and my friend Diane coming to stay for the holidays. So I figured, as long as I have books and a good friend (in this case Joanna) I can remain sane.
Anyway, after averting the crisis of bawling on a public street and narrowly avoiding curling up into the fetal position in the middle of the road, I began to relax and enjoy the Christmas fanfare.
That day, Joanna and I had managed to get up early (11am) and run just in time to make it to the 5 minute children's parade that was happening down Union. I wasn't too disapointed because I did get to see Santa and a reindeer (Just one, but it was real!) I then had a sausage (Bratwurst. Amazing) and Jo had a delicious looking crepe and we walked down to the sea to meet up with friends Cat and Amy. I know, I actually live in a place where I can say 'we walked down to the sea'. Definitely not in land-locked Alberta anymore!
Anyway, we had a fabulous American style lunch at TGI Fridays (the last time I ate here was with the Prince of Swaziland in Niagra falls, so it brought back fond memories. This is a long story, which you will probably never hear....or you just might because I have very few stories which just circulate over and over....), our waiter even channeled America through his very demeanour. Katie Blue, you wouldda been proud. Anyway, I ended up walking back from the beach by myself, wandering through town and inevitable break down ensued. I guess it was because my mind finally figured out that this was not a vacation after all. I couldn't just call up my usual peeps and discuss the day/latest boy drama/listen to their highly entertaining woes. I couldn't just meet up with someone and complain about publishing. That was it folks, it was just me. So I went into these cemetary grounds (St. Nicholas's Kirk) and wandered around the eerie gravestones thinking that I may one day be one of them. To test my luck I sat down on one of the gravestones and whipped out my mini-digital photo album given to me by Kelly, my good friend and work colleague. I figured if I was going to die here, I was going to die looking at pictures of my friends. I have no idea why I am being so drastically melodramatic. Anyway, when it got kind of dark (aka it was about 4pm in the afternoon and it was pitch black) and they locked me inside the cemetary (I actually had to chase down the city council man and get him to unlock the gate and let me out. So I suppose I might have actually died. Or in any case had a very cold night in a graveyard). Anyway, I did get out. And made it to the christmas light turning on ceremony which was kind of amazing (where Joanna got peed on by a person dressed as a reindeer--and by pee I mean water squirting out of the reindeer penis. Classy). And then we all went to Ma Cameron's where I proceeded to be incredibly uncool and get a nice cup of raspberry tea at the pub. All in all, I felt decidedly better with the addition of the tea, santa claus and a peeing reindeer.

I guess recounting my day-to-day progress is kind of cathartic when it comes to homesickness. It is the equivalent of calling up a friend and bitching about my day. I just hope my friends are actually reading this.

That was a hint guys.