Monday 6 December 2010

When self-serving stereotypes fail to deliver

I've now been off work for over a week, and my armchair philosophizing about the romantic Sturm and Drang of post-apocalyptic landscapes is wearing thinner than the seat of my underpants.

I'm now sick and tired of this snow.
At first I had the camera out and was snapping away like a Japanese tourist on Speed. I was desperate to capture the melancholy, the vengeful Banshee's, the exquisite architecture and the 'timeless, arrogant beauty' of Edinburgh in Wintertime.

But after uploading an endless sea of what looked like badly shot tat shop snow globes, I made the executive decision to try and grasp the essence of the 'Athens of the North' through alternative creative mediums...Papier-mâché seems the best bet at the time of writing: Grey and white flecked soggy lump of nothing.

The college where I work has been 'officially closed' again today, and forecasts for the morrow are looking a bit iffy too. There were supposed to be exams last week and this, but it looks like everything will be 're-scheduled' - in other words it will be chaos in the last week before the Christmas break on the 17th with everybody running round like headless chickens, turning up at the wrong exams etc (this college has the worst admin and staff/student communication I've ever seen...compared to the entire 3 other educational establishments I've experienced in my lifetime).

Its not a paid holiday for me either, I'm self employed, so if I don't go in and Scribe and tutor I don't get paid. Public transport has been hit really hard too in the Edinburgh/West Lothian area, buses are virtually non-existent - not that you'll hear much about it on the national (London based) news of course. The soft southern bastards.

I'm probably just being a miserable, self-pitying, narcissistic, materialistic, whining shit...but I'm starting to question the traditional rugged hardiness of your average Scot.

Its snowing and its Scotland.
I expected to see armies of kilted, knickerless Celts laughing in the face of the howling snow storm, shovelling the roads clean with their bare hands while tanked up on the best single malt - and that was just the women!
Instead their all tucked by the fireplace with their peppermint tea watching re-runs of 'Dr Quinn Medicine woman' or 'Celebrity Come dine with me'...

Maybe the genes have degenerated or something, too much Buckfast and deep fried Mars Bars. One thing you can say about William Wallace, he got the trains to run on time and wasn't scared of a bit of snow - I can just see him driving a bus through the blizzard shouting 'FREEEEDOM!'.

Anyway, 'Braveheart' is on Film Four so I can dissolve in my armchair and take emotional refuge in the stereotype once again.

(Please note: my girlfriend is Scottish, so this post is just a tease...sort of.)

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