Clearly I am a very bad blog writer, in terms of intent vs. reality. I have not written for roughly two weeks. I guess that's a bad thing, but since last time I wrote I've been to Stirling and Linlithgow, so those have to count on my List of Things I've Done in Scotland. And on Thursday I'm heading off to the Borderlands. Which should be interesting/awesome/picturesque. I've decided that Scotland may very well be one of THE most beautiful countries on the planet. It's just mind-boggling how I can look out of the library window and see an EXTINCT VOLCANO just over the top of eighteenth-century buildings. Edinburgh's so dark and remarkable and stunning; part of me misses home so much but part of me never wants to leave this place. And it's not even the places I go to visit, it's just being here and living here and walking through cobblestone streets.
I think one reason I'm homesick, though, is that I feel that I've lost the thread of life back at AU. I can see people on Facebook or talk to them on AIM but there's a lag there that, in some ways, completely breaks my heart. And I stayed up all night last week finishing that play because I thought maybe it would help, maybe it would make me feel connected, and that I could do something to affect people's lives three thousand miles away, but it didn't. I'm not saying that no one cares about it but just that I'm starting to realize that maybe I'm not as important, in the whole scheme of things, as I thought I was, and that's troubling. I so often feel as if I'm on the outside, staring in, and I hate it. I want to be a part of things, I want to be inside, instead of out here. But I don't know how to do that.