[fiction, instead of lies]

9:30 p.m.

2:35 a.m.

Summer in Scotland can be a gorgeous thing (once it stops raining). I grew up with the idea of endless summer and “California dreamin’” from the Beach Boys and whomever else covered that song, but you just have not seen “endless” until you’ve been in the far north and tried to go to bed at a reasonable time… and the sun was still up. An hour after the first picture was taken, the sun was still up – but trying to look responsible and sheepishly thinking about setting. Eventually. My friend P. in Estonia says the sun doesn’t bother even getting embarrassed about overstaying until about 11:30. Children play outside until they collapse. Good times.

Yesterday, someone asked me if I was packed, and I realized that I should probably get on that. All the lagniappe is wrapped and sitting and I have my shoes lined up… and that’s pretty much it. I’ve been advised to wear dresses because “it’s so hot.” Um… okay. The warmest it’s been here in Glasgow so far has been a toasty 73°F. Seriously.

So. If you meet someone looking lost, wearing a limp skirt, and perspiring profusely? That’s probably me.

Today’s emoticon: Sweating already.