But the CROWNING JEWEL OF CORONATION this week goes to
ROBERT CALLS TRACY A “POISONOUS BITCH”.
That’s right. Robert finally puts Tracy Barlow in her well-deserved place. Like, come on, Tracy, you’re the one who probably pushed little Simon to the edge after you basically murdered Kal and now you have the audacity to beat Leanne up for his actions? It’s so difficult for me when it comes to Tracy. I actually think Kate Ford looks like a lovely, adorable person in real life, but Tracy is such a cow. Such.
I’d like to see Leanne and Robert get together. Not because I particularly love Leanne or anything, but she’s had a rough time and could use a nice distraction. You know, just as long as Tracy doesn’t get keys to her flat.
Welcome to my first ever post of the series, “An American on the Cobbles” which is dedicated to my take on the popular British TV series, Coronation Street.
Now, being from America, I grew up watching the soaps my mother loved. She would VHS record All My Children and One Life To Live every Monday-Friday, without fail. Well, unless one of us changed the channel before school started and she didn’t get to see her soap. And, believe me, nobody wanted to be in the house when that happened.
I first watched Coronation Street in 2010 while I was in Glasgow for an extended visit. The first time I watched it, I couldn’t get over how different a British soap was from an American soap.
There are some particular differences that I’ve noticed specifically.
For starters, British soaps are on during somewhat primetime television. In the states, a soap is typically a “daytime” television programme. I suppose nightly dramas such as Grey’s Anatomy and Desperate Housewives were considered “soaps” as well, but mostly they are marketed as primetime television shows i.e. on after 7:30 pm.
Secondly, characters on British soaps tend to be mostly working-class to middle-class people. The characters even wear the same clothes on different days — this is not really something you ever see on American television daytime or otherwise!
Thirdly, the characters on British soaps tend to have more self-inflicted run of the mill or “everyday people” problems. Sure, there’s a far-fetched storyline here and there, but Corrie specifically covers topics ranging from struggles with money to infidelity to illness.
Okay, I suppose that’s what many American soaps would cover within their storylines, but they generally appear on a much grander (and less believable) storyline scale.
Lastly, America has basically done away with “soaps”. I think there are just a couple still hanging on for dear life, but most of the ones I grew up watching were cancelled years ago and replaced with crappy panel afternoon talk shows. In the day and age of Netflix, Amazon Prime, and NOW TV, it’s amazing to me that a show like Coronation Street stillgets the millions of viewers it does. Purely speaking from the amount of variety and choice the average viewer has these days.
Which is why it’s so obvious that Coronation Street is still a favourite to so many people!
While I was still living in America, I got my mother hooked on Corrie as well. She and I went back and watched old episodes going back to the late 1970’s. It’s interesting to see the storylines and characters who have come and gone. I can also see why the show has probably lost a significant demographic due to the shift in plotlines and character dynamics. I mean, I love the banter between Norris Cole, and well, just about everybody in the cast, but it’s just not the same as the banter of the likes of Jack and Vera Duckworth, Fred Elliot, Eddie Yeats, and Curly Watts.
I’ve also read criticisms of the current Coronation Street that there’s “too much sex” and “too much murder/violence”. I can see where that criticism comes from, because how much of that can happen on one street, really? In the few years I’ve been watching the show, there have been the following murders: John Stape, Sunita Alahan, Tina McIntire, Kal Nasir, Maddy Heath, and most recently Calum Logan. Now, coming from a lifetime of watching American television, I honestly don’t think that Coronation Street shows too much sex or violence. In fact, I’d have to say, they show very little in comparison to the shows I am used to watching back home.
So, this series of posts is all about my thoughts and feelings about the week’s episodes of Coronation Street as I experience it through my American goggles on the cobbles.
Are you a faithful Coronation Street viewer? Do you like American television? Share your thoughts!
Happy Monday! Hope your weekend was amazing and wondrous. I spent the weekend at my in-law’s, which gave me some inspirational thoughts for my fifth installment of Abroad City: An American Living in Glasgow!
The Long and Winding Roads
So, this past weekend, Luke and I drove up North to visit his parents and our niece, Lara. She’s the cutest kid, seriously.
Driving from Glasgow to any place is an adventure for me, because the views are breathtaking and spectacular. I often find myself feeling like a dog hanging out the window while looking up at the mountains and mystic scenery that is Scotland.
But seriously though, this is why.
Pretty, huh? My phone camera doesn’t do it justice, really. However, just because the ride is beautiful doesn’t mean there isn’t an ugly side to our travels. Whenever we travel by car off the highways (or motorways, as they call them over here) I tend to get car sick. The roads are SO, well, long and winding in parts, as Sir Paul McCartney sang. You would have thought, by now, that I would be better prepared for a road trip. However, this past weekend, I was not prepared for a road trip. Luke is such a trooper, he listened to the following for hours on end:
“OMG why are the roads like this?”
“Is this the way it’s going to be the entire drive?!”
“You’re probably going to have to pull over!”
Yep. Luke is a trooper.
Moral of the story? Take motion sickness meds or bring earplugs for the driver.
In the UK french fries are called chips. Fish and chip shops sell battered and deep fried foods served with (and without) french fries. Shops that sell fish and chips and other deep fried foods are called “chippies”. When you decide to buy your dinner from a chippy it’s called, a “chippy tea”.
Last night, Luke and I stopped in Kinross to visit his adorable grandmother, Min, and his uncle, Martin. Min and Martin weren’t sure whether or not we were stopping through on our way back to Glasgow — so, because Min hadn’t prepared any food for us — she suggested we get a takeaway for our tea. I immediately said, “I want chips!” because, let’s face it, I always want chips. So, we walked over to grab us a chippy tea takeaway.
I got a sausage dinner. Holy baby heyzeus, it was a whole lotta dinner. Also, it’s an hour back to Glasgow from Kinross, so yeah, that was an even better portion of the trip for my husband than the previous leg of the journey home.
“OMG why did I eat that dinner?”
“How much longer until we’re home?”
“Do you still love me?”
“I’m dying slowly.”
Just look at this beastly meal.
Good thing I am working out with two clients today and doing a run.
It’s a loccccchhhh, not a lock loch.
In Scotland, words are pronounced with a lot of throat clearing sound effects. I am forever being mocked and laughed at, in a loving way (he claims) by my husband about how I pronounce words. For instance:
Helensburgh is not “helens-berg” it’s “helens-burra”.
Giffnock is not “giff-knock” it’s “gif-nuck”.
A loch is not a “lock” it’s a “locccchhhh”.
Bring your own bag or pay 5 pence.
When you go to a grocery store in Scotland, you must bring your own shopping bag or else you will be charged 5 pence per plastic bag. I personally think it’s a great incentive to get people to go the reusable bag route!
I think the encouragement to bring your own carrier bag should be mandatory everywhere. Seriously. Plastic is festering on our planet and destroying the environment with each passing day. Plus, you can get such cute tote bags these days that it’s like a fashion statement to use your own bag! This is the tote bag I use!
[Tweet “Winding roads, chippy teas, and the proper way to pronounce “loch” via @BeetsPerMinute http://wp.me/p5q00n-W9″]
Also, I miss my family dog, and this Instagram picture my lovely sister took pretty much says it all when it comes our Maggie May.
Do you get motion sickness? Do you have a reusable grocery bag? What did you do this weekend?
Happy summer. I feel like saying that to you guys, because it never feels like summer in Glasgow. Okay, maybe never is a bit harsh, but seriously, not far off. Well, I’ve been out and aboot, and I’ve seen a few things, so, I thought now is as good a time as any to have another installment of…
It’s July and I’m wearing tights.
I think that the title to this section is pretty self-explanatory, but yeah, I’ve had to wear tights under a romper twice in the past 10 days. I don’t deliberately set out to wear tights under my romper, but what starts out as hopeful anticipation to expose my legs to air, ends up in my legs being cold and me looking like an idiot. I already look like an idiot daily by wearing my sunglasses whether it’s cloudy or not — seriously, the sky is BLINDING here — even without the sun. Okay, back to my point. By this time of year, I usually have a nice glow on my legs and am wearing summer dresses and open-toe shoes daily. It’s rather depressing not being able to do that. During a walk on Monday, I even muttered the words, “f**k this, I can’t live here!”. It was a touch dramatic, I know, and then, the sun came out about 4 minutes later (for about 4 minutes) and I kind of got over it.
I just love how definite the word, “sorted” is. In the UK, people say something is sorted when it’s taken care of. In the US, we also say sorted, but usually in a more passive aggressive context.
“Erin, will you clean this shit up and make sure it gets sorted through?”
It’s a much more friendly context in this part of the world.
“Right, now here’s your receipt, and that’s you sorted. See ya then, bye.”
If you need something, it will get sorted out.
Overpriced American crap.
So, if you follow me on Instagram (ahem) then you may know that last weekend, while shopping, I took a good, long look at Tesco’s American food aisle. It’s not really an aisle, actually, it’s a small section of shelves next to a tiny shelf of Irish foods. What the section should be called is, “All the shit you should be happy we’re charging 3 times as much for because it definitely causes diabetes” — or something like that.
£6.00 ($9.30) for a package of Chocolate Center Oreos.
I should also note: You can buy all of these items in their designated aisles for a much lower price — they will just be missing all of the chemicals and preservatives ingredients that US foods are allowed to have, which are outlawed basically everywhere else.
And let’s face it, those ingredients are what make everything so American.
[Tweet “Tights in July and $9 for Oreos – Abroad City: An American Living in Glasgow #expatlife #travel via@BeetsPerMinute”]
To quote my newest American expat pal, Jenn:
The lack of food items have been the bane of my existence. I’ve slowly started to realize that all the stuff I miss is actually atrocious for me (i.e. Aunt Jemima) so perhaps I am better off over here!
This past Friday marked my SEVENTH month in Glasgow. Seven. Months. Wow.
I can still taste the burger from Wahlburgers I had at my last American supper. (No, seriously, it’s still repeating on me.)
So, it’s been about two months since my last Abroad City post and, as always, I’ve seen some things.
Halloween Isn’t That Big of a Deal Here
I will probably get my head chewed off by a few folks over here by claiming that Halloween “isn’t a big deal”, but I’m sorry unless you’ve lived through 34 American Halloweens prior to your first Scottish one, you don’t know. Okay?
That being said, I don’t like Halloween, so, it works out well for me. I probably started to not care about this ridiculous day after spending three years during college working at a party store. People are animals when they shop for a costume and it was pretty much that job that made me not drop out of school. The thought of spending another Halloween cleaning up after grown people wearing Power Ranger costumes was enough to get me to stick to my studies. The real horror is, finishing school hardly makes you immune to working retail ever again.
Also, my father passed away just days before Halloween, so that also didn’t do much to kickstart me liking it again. To me, it just sucks. The only ‘lil guy I want to see dressed up in a costume is Norbert. That’s it.
I literally never really noticed this until about two weeks ago, but over here in Scotland, if you work as a grocery store cashier you get to sit ALL day. That’s right, they are seated. I know the big debate these days is that sitting for long periods of time is bad for you (and it kinda is) but I also feel bad for the 70-year-old grocery cashiers who have to stand for hours at a time. It would be nice to have the option, right? I think so!
Pumpkin Spice Doesn’t Really Matter
Yep, that’s right. Starbucks sell their famous Pumpkin Spice Latte over here, but guess what? It tastes like potpourri. It’s just awful. Some of you back home might say, “it tastes like potpourri here too” and maybe you’re right? The thing is, pumpkin is sort of catching on here, but it’s not (and will never be) to the extreme it is back in North America.
A can of pumpkin puree is £2.00 ($3.12). No thanks. Especially when you’re like me and every “trial” run you bake is a fail. Not sure why canned pumpkin is so pricey here, but it’s probably a lot of the reason businesses aren’t interested in the flavor in general.
I mean, is it really that good? Or are we all just brainwashed? Is it really fall without pumpkin spice everything?
Think about it. I have.
Do you think pumpkin spice has lost it’s damn mind? Or do you believe pumpkin is fall and without it fall is nothing? Do you like Halloween?
Happy Monday, Peeps! I hope you all had a great weekend!
Saturday, Luke and I went to Edinburgh to see some comedy at the Festival Fringe. We were originally going to head to Pittenweem for the art festival there, but had a slight change in plans and decided we’d rather go hear some comedy and get the hell out of Glasgow for the day than do nothing at all!
I LOVE Edinburgh; every single time I go there I wonder why I don’t go more because it’s absolutely beautiful.
If you’ve seen the film Trainspotting, please disregard your preconceived notions, it’s so much better than how it was portrayed in that film. Like, so much.
Once we got into town, we parked near the Edinburgh Castle. It just sits on the edge of the city. Just a castle, no big deal. Yep, just a castle where, like, lots of famous historical shit went down, centuries ago, but now you can tour it and sit on the embankment while eating a falafel.
I got a little carried away with that description, but when you come from America to any place in Europe, you are repeatedly humbled by the fact that even their sidewalks are hundreds of years older than the ones you walk on back home.
Well, I am completely humbled by it, anyway. Every single day, I walk past beautiful old things and wonder how much longer they have been in existence than the state I’m from back home!
The Edinburgh Festival Fringe is a month long arts festival showcasing comedy, dance, theater and all sorts of awesome stuffs.
Some of the festival events are completely free, some are donation-based, and some are at a cost.
It was better than crap and for the £2 donation it was totally worth it. I was mostly pleased that I’m little and couldn’t be seen (or heckled).
After laughing and walking around, I needed food. To be fair, I ALWAYS need food. So, Luke and I decided to eat at The Hub.
I ate a B.L.T. because I love any opportunity when I can eat British bacon. I think it’s so much better than American bacon. I know that is SO unpatriotic of me, but it’s my opinion and basically a fact.
Look at how handsome that is …and the husband isn’t bad either!
I also had to get a Strawberry-Lime Rekorderlig Cider, because it’s just the best. I only ever get one of these lovely ciders when I’m eating a burger or a sandwich, just because it’s like a science. I also like to order one whenever I’m at Handmade Burger Co.
We walked around a bit more until the inevitable clouds started to roll in and rain was on the horizon …as usual. Also, I was whining because my feet hurt.
We finished out the day by getting some amazing ice cream from Over Langshaw Ice Cream. It was SO good. I tried a sample of their “Heather Honey and Pink Peppercorn” flavour, and honestly, it is super good — I just didn’t think I could handle an entire scoop of it due to its pepperiness. Also, I wanted two scoops, and I didn’t think it would pair well with anything else I was craving. I DEFINITELY couldn’t have handle two scoops of peppercorn ice cream! It was #strangebutgood and intense.
So, I got butterscotch and vanilla; safe and delicious.
Well, ‘ello, ‘ello! It’s been a couple of weeks since my last installment of Abroad City : An American Living in Glasgow — and I know you’ve missed me, but I’ve just been out there trying to adapt to Scottish living!
So, the other day was the good ‘ol 4th of July, and it was my first one away from America, ever, I think! Wow – crazy realizations come through on da bloggity blog sometimes! I wasn’t really even thinking about it being the 4th on Saturday (I’m so patriotic, right?).
Then, suddenly, I heard drums and a marching band outside my window. At first, I just turned the volume up on the TV so I could continue watching Pretty Little Liars (I just discovered this show and I’m hooked) — but the drums and marching continued on for an eternity. Luke came into the living room and said, “these guys have been marching around the entire city since half 9 this morning!” It wasn’t some sort of Scottish tribute to America’s Declaration of Independence, no, it was apparently an Orange Orderparade marking the 1690 Battle of the Boyne.
Anyhoo, all their parading “aboot” got me feeling nostalgic and homesick, and, for me, when this pairing of emotions surfaces, I eat. What better way to celebrate the 4th of July in food spirit than a s’more, right? Well, this would be true if I could actually buy a graham cracker in the UK, but since I have yet to find a graham cracker anywhere, I opted for McVitieschocolate digestive biscuits and marshmallows.
Okay, this is probably the one and only time I will say this, so, brace yourselves and move on quickly: When it comes to s’mores, there is only one chocolate that can make its magic shine through, and that chocolate is, Hershey’s. There, I said it. I am a British chocolate lover from the womb, but when it comes to the campfire classic, American chocolate is king.
I caved on the Swedish Fish
If you follow my blog on Instagram — which you totally should — you probably already know that I caved and paid the astronomical price of £1.89 for two ounces — approximately 20 — of Swedish Fish candies at the American Candy Store in City Centre.
A photo posted by Erin Campbell Thompson (@beetsperminute) on
I don’t regret it, however. It was worth it, and it’s probably a really good thing that I can’t get more than a handful at that price, so that I don’t go overboard on the fish.
This was until Luke was kind enough to point out The Big Candy Store, which is yet anothercandy store that sells American products on Sauchiehall Street. I might also mention that he pointed this place out to me during our 13 mile run/walk. The Big Candy Store sell a 3.1 ounce box of Swedish Fish for £3.00. I’m going to say I won’t cave again and pay £1.00/ounce for SF, but I’m probably lying. In fact, I may have already purchased said box by the time you read this.
50 Shades of FroYo
If I was ever feeling lonely and wanting to spice up my weekend back home, I would watch a made for TV movie on Lifetime. Also, don’t judge, because you know you do this too. However, in Scotland, when I want to engage in some soft serve core indulgence, apparently I needn’t look further than the frozen dessert section. I don’t know if it’s just that Frozen Yogurt isn’t appealing enough on its own over here, but the companies that make it are definitely trying to get a message across to their target consumers.
I guess this is one way to not feel guilty about having a relationship with your FroYo, am I right?
Well, that’s all I’ve got for this installment of Abroad City: An American Living in Glasgow, but stay tuned for more adventures in the coming days!
[Tweet “Digestive biscuit S’mores and Snogging with FroYo #AnAmericaninGlasgow #ExpatLife @BeetsPerMinute”]
Which chocolate do you use in your s’mores? Did you celebrate for 4th of July?
Hiya! I know it’s been a few weeks since my last installment of Abroad City: An American Living in Glasgow, but things have been a bit cray cray this month. That’s not to say that I haven’t been discovering new oddities and having adventures, however.
No Fridge For Eggs
As you can probably guess from the heading of this section, the Brits do not refrigerate their eggs. That’s right, in a British grocery store you will not find eggs next to cottage cheese and butter — you will find them in an aisle far, far away. This is the European standard, apparently.
There’s a reason.
Egg storage conditions come down to the different ways that eggs are farmed and processed in the U.S. compared to the U.K. and other European nations.
In fact, in the US, the Department of Agriculture eggs destined to be sold on supermarket shelves — called “graded eggs” — are washed and sprayed with a chemical sanitizer before they are sold to the public to “reduce the risk of salmonella infection”.
In the U.K., Grade A hen eggs may not be washed because the process is thought to “aid the transfer of harmful bacteria like salmonella from the outside to the inside of the egg”.
Luckily, I think eggs are one of the most revolting things on the planet. However, if I did eat eggs, I would find a friend with a hen, or give them up knowing that little tid bit!
If you’re confused how to leave anywhere in the UK just look for a sign. By sign, I mean, like, a sign that literally says, “Way Out” with a directional arrow.
I like it.
I mean “exit” is so subjective — exit to where? I want to get out, after all. I want to find the way out, and then boom, there’s a sign telling me how and where I can do this. Brilliant.
In America there’s a ton of obnoxious summer insects. In Scotland there’s midges. I had never experienced a midge before this week. I started personal training some clients by their office near a wharf. Friday afternoon I started to notice little itchy bites on me, and I immediately thought, “BED BUGS”!
I know that I put bed bugs in dramatic all caps/quotation marks, but I didn’t mention it to Luke, because I thought surely if we had that issue he would be complaining of the same thing.
These bites cleared up really quickly though, so I totally forgot about it. Then Monday I was training a client again, and I noticed these horrible little bugs that looked like an oversized flea had sex with a fruit fly.
Me: “What the hell are these bugs?”
Client: “Oh those are midges, they’re awful and they bite”
Yes, they are awful and they do bite.
However, the bites aren’t nearly as bad as a mosquito bite. I’m also assuming they aren’t as much of a threat as mosquitos are, but f’n yuck.
No thanks, midge.
No Swedish Fish
I love Swedish Fish. I used to get a Costco sized box of them for Christmas every year. Also, right before my wedding, I discovered the candy store in my town had chocolate covered Swedish Fish — and they are seriously delicious.
While, I do realize that I do not need to eat gummy candies, because they are probably the most nutrient sparse food product on earth, I like them.
British gummy candies are really not good. Well, at least, I don’t think they are very good.
I keep looking everywhere for Swedish Fish. I am going to try the American Candy Co. in City Centre, but they will probably want £8.00 for a box of them. I had a good laugh when I noticed the Coffee-Mate creamer in the “American Foods” section of Tesco was £7.99.
I wonder if anybody ever buys it?
Okay, that’s enough random musing from yours truly!
Stay tuned for the next installment of Abroad City: An American Living in Glasgow.
[Tweet “Eggs without fridges and midges. An American Living in Glasgow via @BeetsPerMinute http://wp.me/p5q00n-VL”]
So, as I mentioned on Monday, I made FRIENDS. I met a lovely set of American ladies this past weekend, and they were super cool AND eased my mind about life over here. My new pal, Jolyne, is not only really adorable and rad, but she also owns the cutest kids clothing shop I’ve ever seen. It’s called Rowdy Roddy Vintage (named after her adorable little boy, Roddy) and she totally sells stuff online, so take a look. SO cute! Jolyne is also married to the drummer from Belle and Sebastian — could she be any more awesome?!
I also met the adorable Mary from the blog, Girl, Here and There. Mary is also an American married to a Scotsman. Mary was so nice by taking pity on a “S.O.S.” comment on her blog about “feeling alone in a new place”. We got a Starbucks (you know, like the Natives) and vented to one another about what we’re loving and loathing about life in a foreign place! She was such a sweetheart and I cannot wait to get together with her again!
I also met Jen from Chase The Red Grape, several weeks agofor juice at Juice Garden in City Centre and she is just the loveliest. Her blog is awesome and she’s a Cross Fit enthusiast (for those of you who are too)! So see, my friends, blogging really does make us all so connected! #Blogosphere
Have you ever noticed in British films how you never hear, “she was in THE hospital”? It’s always “she was in hospital”. Well, the other day, Luke and I were in hospital.
I had a first hand experience (no pun intended) with the NHS (National Health Service) on Tuesday, when my lovely husband went in for wrist surgery.
After making sure he is, in fact, Luke, the surgeon came over and asked which wrist it was and he said “brilliant” and made a giant arrow on his forearm pointing to the wrist he would later be cutting open. Good system, really. Sharpie prevents malpractice. Seriously.
It gets the job done, right? Speaking of which, I also LOVE British warning signs. In the States we just read about the danger ahead and perhaps the animal or persons involved in said danger, but over here, they show you what will literally happen if you do something dangerous stupid.
Anyhoo, Luke is a trooper, he went right back to work the next day — I would have totallymilked it for at least 48 hours, but I guess somebody in our household needs to make a dolla holla!
Also, I finally figured out my train route without getting lost, ate a Cadbury bar containing Ritz crackers, AND ate chips (fries) out of a pint glass.
I could understand people in Aberdeen better than Glaswegians (yes, really).
It’s been nice enough to walk places, and by default, I discovered some really cute shops.
So, my husband, Luke, is a lifelong supporter of Aberdeen Football Club, despite the fact that he’s from Inverness, lived in Dublin, and currently lives in Glasgow. I don’t get the football (soccer) loyalty stuff. I probably never will either.
The purpose of our weekend getaway was to see the Aberdeen v. Celtic match.
Aberdeen lost — they always lose when I attend a match. I’ve filed this in my dossier of ways I am ruining the World.
I don’t actually think I’m that powerful. If I were that powerful, I’d have a job.
Or be a lucrative street performer at the very least.
Anyhoo, Aberdeen is really beautiful.
It’s the third largest city in Scotland and is about a 3 hour drive from Glasgow. It’s called the “Granite City” — which I found interesting since I’m from New Hampshire, the “Granite State“. I’m a weirdo who finds all the “interesting” ways that I’m connected to Luke and how it’s fate that we’re together.
He also thinks I’m weird, but sweet.
Also, not to keep on the weird thing, but Caledonia is the Latin name the Romans gave for Scotland, and I was born in Caledonia County in Vermont. Coinkidink? Maybe. Scotland’s national animal is the Unicorn, so, for a Scottish person to find my fate speculation weird, is sort of saying something, right?
But I digress, Aberdeen is on the water and has beautiful architecture. Not that Glasgow doesn’t, because Glasgow has really kick-ass architecture as well. Glasgow and Aberdeen are entirely different, much like US cities. I really loved Aberdeen. I probably said, “let’s move to Aberdeen” at least 12 times to Luke over the 48 hours we were there.
And watch a football (soccer) match without hearing songs about sheep shagging. (Not kidding about this one, by the way.)
Aberdeen also has really lovely beaches and delicious (but fattening) food and alcohol.
I didn’t even get car sick on the way home after everything I had consumed over the prior 24 hours. That’s an accomplishment in itself! I think I’ve hung up my football spectator’s cap for the time being. I know there’s, like, only two games left, but I think I’m out. I’m out of my depth, really.
I can see why people love it though.
Hot guys + sweat.
I can see why women like it.
Why am I going to stop going?
UNTIL NEXT TIME!
[Tweet “Trip to Aberdeen, why women love football, and food in castles via @beetsperminute #AnAmericanInGlasgow”]
Do you like football (ANY kind)? Would you eat in a castle? Or Siberia?