"To win the race you've got to be in the race"

Another week, another blog, so let's dive in shall we?

Tuesday was Burns Night, a celebration of the life and poetry of Scottish poet Robert (Rabbie) Burns, celebrated throughout Scotland and by Scots all over the world. He's the guy responsible for Auld Sang Lyne, better known as "the song you sing at midnight on New Year's", and a bunch of other poems I've never heard of, though I'm assured are all quite good. Traditionally, you're supposed to recite a bunch of Burns poetry, but we skipped all that and chose to dive right into the meal aspect of the evening—haggis. Yes, it's a terrible Scottish cliche, yes, it sounds disgusting (sheep's liver, lungs, and heart mixed with spices and oats, all cooked in a bag made from sheep's stomach), but it wasn't half bad, dare I say enjoyable. I wouldn't have it for every meal, but it'd be a nice menu item every once and a while. Variety is the spice of life, isn't it? Thanks to Becky and Claire for cooking!

It's best if you don't think about it too much.

 Look at everyone enjoying their meal!

 More happy people.

 Moderately enthused.

 No Burns Night in Scotland would be complete without some whisky.

In other news, I finally finished my matriculation process (registration), noteworthy only because the man at the desk told me he knew I was Canadian because of how polite I was. Aww shucks. Really though, while that one moment made me feel incredibly proud, I didn't realize how truly proud I am to be Canadian until I got here. It's one thing to say you love Canada when you're there, but going away makes you realize it on a whole other level, at least for me. The whole, "you can't see what's right in front of you" is kind of cliched, but apt here. As anyone here will tell you, I tend to bring up the Canada thing a lot, maybe to the point of being irritating ("he's Canadian/she's Canadian/they're Canadian"). But because everyone immediately assumes I'm American, I think it's important to let them know that there is indeed another wonderful country situated just above the ol' US of A with it's own merits. True patriot love indeed.

Here are some photos of campus:

 Buccleuch Place.

 George Square.

 More of George Square

 Teviot, the oldest student union building in the world (replete with bars, four to be exact).

 Teviot from across the square.

McEwan Hall. Probably the nicest building on campus that hardly anyone gets to use.

And here are some more I took just walking around the city.

 National Museum of Scotland.

 Old Town buildings.

 Looking up at the Castle from Grassmarket. 

 Castle from behind. These pictures don't do justice to just how big the cliffs actually are.

 Nice fountain in the Princes Street Gardens. The gardens are actually located on a former loch (Nor Loch), where citizens disposed of their raw sewage. No wonder it's so green!

 Church at the edge of the gardens.

 Norwegian war memorial...

 ...it's a giant rock.

 Old Town.

 Old Town again.

National Gallery of Scotland.

And the title? Just a little quote from the cinematic beacon of brilliance that is Mean Girls 2, which was watched—and mercilessly mocked—yesterday.