Doc's in town

Yesterday, Edinburgh's total level of awesomeness went slightly upwards.
Yep, my big brother is here. He is such a force of nature that the day before he arrived, the wildlife of the place ran away.
Was it a coincidence that yesterday was the sunniest day since I arrived? Of course not.

So, we walked, nay, strutted around the Royal Mile where he summarily did the following:

He desecrated a few landmarks (he threw his chewing gum in the Headwell, one of the tourist attractions because it "kinda looked like a cistern"), took a walk inside one of the nicest graveyards of the city (named after a dog, isn't that cute?) checked out women (although to be fair to the pretty lasses of Edina, he just arrived from Sweden, I mean look at this) yelled bloody murder at Spanish tourists (Navarro, Gasol, Garbachosa and others took an earful), screamed "TERRORIST" two or three times in the middle of the street, tried to sneak inside a private speech at the National Library and also insisted that people here drive wrong (so, of course, he almost got run over by cars, taxis, double-deckers etc.)

And that was just the first two hours. He'll be here for a week.

I won't go on, but have to note that at dinner, he paid for my chicken and Journey's* burger.

And he ate a full T-bone steak by himself.

Go ahead. Google "T-Bone Steak". I dare you.

Consta... "proud little brutha" ...ntine

*[my cool american flatmate, you can joke about the name in the comments section, he won't mind.]

Disturbing...

Today I'll be brief (hooray!) and I'll be talking about girls. (HOORAY!)

So, I'm walking down the road, having heard about this particular creature, habitant of such universities etc-
And then, out of nowhere, there they were.

Four college girls, in their uniforms, running down the road.

I'll just paint you a word picture:

Short plaid skirts flapping, locks of hair dancing on their heads, things of the,um, "roundish persuasion" bouncing underneath the shirt and neck-tie... They are sort of perspired, sweat glistening down their necks, heavy laboured breathing and stuff...
you get it (the idea, that is. I wouldn't know what else could you get [get it? :-p ] )

And yet, the first thought in my head was:

"Damn... somewhere back in Xanthi, Chris is getting a headache, in a sort of 'I feel a great disturbance in the Force' way."

Granted, I was with good company, but this stands for itself.
I saw four girls running and what I instinctively thought of, was you Chris. You and your fetishes. Thanks a billion for ruining catholic schoolgirls for me.

Consta... "Misses you sons of bitches" ...ntine

queues, elephants and rolls

I made a huge step concerning the piece of writing I'm presenting on Tuesday.
The bad thing is, the step was backwards. Until yesterday, I was almost certain which piece I was going to give. Today I stand among four of them. And I like them all (written by me, they are obviously perfect) so I'm not sure what should I do. Flip a coin? Rock,Paper,Scissors,Lizard,Spock? Decisions,decisions...

Remember what I said yesterday, about people going out for a coffee with me? Well, a colleague and friend picked up that torch. We visited the Elephant House, a cafe in the city center, famous for being the birthplace of Harry Potter.
[Get this, apparently she wrote parts of the first two books there. Of course, the owners milked this for everything it's got, so now it's a tourist attaction. You have to wait in line (see?) for about 10 minutes just to get a latte.]
Anyway... We were talking about our prose (which is not a euphemism for youknowwhat, we are writers after all) and she said how bad she felt about writing a piece, concerning a 7 year old boy getting killed. Well, I then went on to say that I have managed to masacre almost all of my characters, including a 5 year old girl in a story that actually got published.
I'm pretty sure she now believes I'm a schizofrenic serial killer* and we find that offensive.
(a blog called brainsanity doesn't help against that though.)
Anyway, it's not my fault; they are short story characters (as in, expendable).

Right now, there's a big fat pile of money next to me. It's 13 pounds and 78 pennies, in copper coins. That's just coins of one penny, twopence and fivepence.
I can build a coin castle out of them :-) Or I can go to tesco's and pull an "old lady" bit. You know, handing every single penny to the clerk, one coin at a time, while the huge line of people behind is cursing and shouting... I could even wear a cap with a daisy on it, just to get in character.

Speaking of tesco's, it has a couple nice things we don't have at supermarkets, back home.
Coleslaw salad is great, sausage rolls are awesome (even though they technically don't have sausage in them, that was a surprise...) 10 grilled barbecue chicken wings for ONE pound... and don't even get me started on caramel shortcakes. If I ever find myself about to be executed, my last meal would definitely include a huge pile of those.
Plus, there's this thing called Cherry Coke. You either love it or hate it. I love it. You can actually make it, just add a little bit of grenadine in a normal coke. You'll thank me later (there's a nice comment section down there). I think it's the best soft drink I ever had.
Well, that's not true, DIET cherry coke is even better!

I guess that's all for today. I'll just go and throw a roll in the microwave oven. Maybe the next one will actually have a sausage in it.

Consta... "sex, drugs and sausage rolls" ...ntine

*[In all fairness though, she just said "serial killer". I added the schizofrenic. Because, you know, honesty.]

The Twelfth Night

Fat Cow! That was the name of that cafeteria! I knew it had a sort of bovine quality in it. Fat Cow... wow, how can a place with such a name close down? I think though that there's another one in town, better find that quickly...

Anyway, I'm not quoting Shakespeare up at the headline, it's just that, this is indeed the twelfth night I'm spending here at my new home so I thought of stating the obvious and yet totally unimportant, since this is what blogs are all about right? No? Just mine?

Moving on, as all of you know, I am attending the cherished Creative Writing Masters here at Edina. Today was a special day because I had my first creative writing workshop! (applause)
So, after callously spewing out some heavy criticism on my lovely peers for a couple hours, I feel that a) We are going to have a splendid year together and b) I'm gonna get a vengeful bashing next week when I'll hand over my own piece of writing.

What's that? Give you a little teaser as to what that piece is gonna be? well, I shouldn't... naah, it's nothing really, horrible,horrible...well, ok if you so terribly insist I will upload something later in the week. But only for you, fellow follower of Brainsanity that shall remain anonymous.

Speaking of which, there are 7 of you! Wow. I think that this was such a shock for the blog itself that right now, there's a huge gap where your names and pics stood oh so proudly, just yesterday. I guess the server is into denial, so...

Ah! I have reason#142 of why Scotland is such a lovely place... I just asked for a jar of putanesca sauce today, out loud, at the market and nobody laughed, sniggered or felt embarassed! Try it back in Greece, I doubledare you. (Yes, it was delicious.)

There's only a catch. As a Greek, I am hardwired -conditioned if you will- to think this: Any day that passes without getting your ass on a fluffy couch at a coffeeshop with good company and a cup of caffeine, blabbering about this and that... is a day lost. I just have to accept the fact that not all citizens of the world think that way. Of course, they are missing out, and this is practically what our ancient Greek philosophers did, paving our way to greatness! (and making everybody else think that we are still like that. Yea, we're not...)
So what they did was, they talked about ideas and stuff while (prepare to be dumbstruck) filling the sofas, ergo, fillosofizing... or something...

Yea! It's true because it sort of looks the same. Who do you think came up with the word sofa? IKEA? I'm dashing out ancient knowledge here.

So, good people of Edina, you are missing out. Why drink coffee while walking on those beautiful roads? Sit there, talk to a stranger while you are at it. Who knows, it may be me. (look for a handsome, tall, pale, brooding sort of bloke.)

Consta... "Cursed by linguists everywhere" ...ntine

The road less travelled - or street less walked?

Greetings and hairetismata to you all, (and by all, I mean George who is the sole follower, thanks George!)

Well, I just left the library, having failed to meet with a mate (that place is enormous!) and I was on the way home. Now, there is a straight line that gets me from George Square (where the school is) to my flat.
And yet I decided for no particular reason to go back via another street, right next to my usual route. Why would I do that? The result was a few minutes of additional walking.
The answer probably is: "Because you live in the greatest city of Europe, dumbass, who knows what that other street may hold?"

Unsurprisingly (?), there were the following:
-A second-hand bookshop there (sweet!),
-A chinese supermarket (PASS- there was this skinny cat right outside and it was staring right at my crotch for no particular reason)
-A Western-Union spot (noted for the future)
-A church that could be called brand-new (if you lived in the 1600s)

-A closed coffeeshop that was really bland but had a really witty name... damnit, now I forgot it! (-0-) *

-A big fat restaurant that was probably too pricey for us lowly students (I have never seen a restaurant with purple seats that wasn't really expensive. Think about it.)

-A donut shop (must...stay...away... Also, don't you love it when they describe chocolate as "decadent"? Out of all the adjectives in the Anglosaxon... Decadent? I concur! :-) )

For a guy who once got lost while actually standing still, this sidetracking was a huge step towards making this place feel like home. Robert Frost would be proud.

Consta... "Master Tracker" ...ntine

* [since I didn't have anything to say about the closed coffee-shop but I like these guys a lot "( )", I decided to just make a Tie-Fighter from StarWars]

Hey

Hello and hairete, everybody,

After half a fortnight* in the most beautiful city ever, Edinburgh Scotland (there's another one I hear, in Indiana,), I have decided to create this blog.

Here I'll occasionally upload ponderings, blabberings, (you are reading one of those at the moment) experiences, occurences, short stories, wet dreams... well you get the idea. It's a typical blog, not quantum physics.

What's that, script? Why haven't I created a blog earlier? Why did I waste so many years of my fruitful, adventurous life without a bardic retelling of my most valorous deeds?
Well, there are lots of reasons and they have absolutely nothing to do with the truth of the matter.
Which is simply this: I just found a name that seems/sounds mildly interesting and fitting to me, which was also available (I mean, who would have thought that Writer's Block would be unavailable?)

So voila:

Brainsanity. As in, brain and insanity (I know, right? I amaze myself sometimes...) I can say that, it does suit me. There are big dollops of insanity in there, thousands of different mindframes swirling in a chaos of neurons and I can happily say that they are really useful, especially for a writer-wannabe.
Out of thousands of characters, I have only used up about maybe fifty in my short stories and half-finished novels. Plenty more where those came from.

Of course, I can be a very serious and understanding sane person whenever I want to.

Ask any of my friends and they'll say (among other adjectives like, polite, goodhearted, talented, handsome, demigod-like etc): "Yea, Dinos, he's the serious one".
Ask any of my enemies and... well, you can't really, there aren't any (breathing).

Sometimes though, I feel I'm too young to be this serious. It's good, it's useful, it comes naturally, but sometimes.. it's not me.

So Brainsanity could help me with this paradox. Don't ask "how" or "wtf are you blabbering about?" No one forced you to read this blog. (unless, whining and constant whoring for attention from my part counts as force)

So, I guess I should leave you with something deep and thoughtful. However, Since I don't have something of that nature at the moment, I'll just quote a brilliant mind (chokeful of brainsanity himself too) that once said to me this, while strolling in the center of Thessaloniki:

(yea, the quotes started from #1)

"You know that 'We only live once' saying? Screw that, 'we are young only once' is much better and don't forget it."

Think about it. This guy's absolutely right!

So, since I'm only going to be young once, it would be nice to look back at this blog and feel embarassed of my pompous talk that looks kinda cocky and "smart" at this exact moment.

Here's to you, future self. Don't forget me!

Consta... "Likes to use So to begin paragraphs" ... ntine

*Half a fortnight: Probably the most pretentious way I can think of right now to say 10 days. Also, it's totally rubbish since a fortnight is 14 nights, not 20 as I remembered. Thnx Ainsley :-)