Imaginary Kangaroo

Slán Go Fóill

2009-06-03T09:00:00.004+01:00

Dear Ireland,

I can't believe we've come to this day already. It feels like just yesterday that we were getting acquainted in the windy cold of January. I walked around everywhere with my Moleskine city notebook (and its compact little maps) close at hand. I didn't know basic things like what a 2 euro coin looked like or where the Pearse Street train station was or how to properly jaywalk when the cars are all on the wrong side.

I didn't have any friends here yet, and I hadn't yet fallen in love with your rolling countryside, which--even in the dead of winter--makes my heart skip a beat. But I knew we were headed somewhere special when you urged me along during tough times with a gorgeous sunset here or a kind smile there. You were everything I expected you to be...and more. Maddening, welcoming, lovable and livable. From long pints to long nights, you made every moment count.

I'll miss your cider, your chippers, your tea, your fizzy jelly snakes and your Thai sweet chili flavoured crisps. I'll miss your love of music and super-fun accent. But most of all, I'll miss all the people you've allowed me to meet here...

But it's like they all keep telling me, with a knowing glance in their eyes.

"You'll be back."

I know.

All my love.

(title: Goodbye for now.)

Last Day.

2009-06-02T21:48:00.000+01:00

Shortly after publishing the previous post...

Went into town to watch A run the mini-marathon. Met up with her boyfriend Andy, who took a train down from the North just in time, and we spent a good hour waiting for her to come round the bend, but it was so fun when she finally did and we got to cheer...and then try to keep up on the sidewalk to catch her when she passed the finish line (just a little further down from our spot). But we got caught in sidewalk traffic. And so ended our own mini-mini-marathon careers.

After we got back home, I spent most of the day playing with her/the bf/the siblings...games in the living room, games on the trampoline in the backyard (my favorite place...ever?). Lots of laughing involved. We also had a nice family dinner, before which everyone sang grace. SANG it. We used to do that in my house, only in Korean, and not in several-part harmony. This family might be the most musical ones I've ever met (it helps that they outnumber most families I know, too, what with the seven children in all). All of them attend(ed) school on music scholarships. Their father is a music teacher. The oldest sister is a choir director. Ash teaches singing, too. Everyone plays several instruments, and there are, lying around the house, guitars, drums, viola, violin, electric violin, cello, french horn, harp, piano, ukulele...and things I'm probably forgetting. Ash's 10 year old brother wrote an incredibly GOOD song on the guitar, and he played it for a few of us after dinner.

I think our families would get along.

Tuesday: Had an amazing piece of Mrs. D's homemade bread with butter and honey for breakfast. This is a detail that would normally be too mundane to include here, except the bread was absolutely DIVINE. I could live on that stuff. Visited Killiney Beach with A, Andy, and her friend, whom we picked up along the way (she lives in Dalkey...along with my best friend Bono). We mostly just sat on the hot, rocky beach for a bit. Came back...picked up some groceries for a barbecue. While A went to go teach for an hour, Andy and I got dinner prepped, with the littlest sib's help. And then we had an amazing meal in the backyard, with intermittent trampoline-playing in between. (I am going to miss that trampoline...)

And now I'm weighing my suitcases again.

Over so soon?

Keeping the Clouds Away

2009-06-01T13:32:00.000+01:00

I know, I know. Another post about the astonishingly wonderful weather. I'll stop.

Sunday, though: a grand day. Lovely all around. Again.

Church in the morning--small Church of Ireland parish where A's dad plays organ. With the sun out and it being Pentecost Sunday and all, it was a pretty magical church day. "Magical" is obviously not quite the right word, even though it is my go-to adjective. But we all wore a bit of red, and the church was a small, beautiful one with friendly parishioners and an even friendlier rector (I met him walking in, and then he totally called me out during the announcements, along with another family of visitors, to ask me questions about myself). It helped that there was sunlight streaming in through the windows and that I was cozily nestled between A and her younger siblings, but the sermon (on the fruits of the Spirit) was solid, the liturgy just right, and the hymns nice. We stood outside for a brief chat with some hilarious older ladies on the way to tea/coffee afterwards, and I soaked up the sun. Went into the fellowship hall area, drank tea, and played with some adorable kids.

Afternoon: lazed around a bit. We ended up throwing together a late lunch or early dinner, not sure which, of roasted vegetable wraps. Soooo yummy. Then headed out to People's Park at Dun Laoghaire to check out the farmers' market and watch movies on the green. It was packed full of families and groups of young people, and they were showing...wait for it...HSM3!! Ash had never seen it before but knew all the songs because she teaches singing to kids. So we totally sang along. And clapped after every number (others joined in). And watched the little kids going mad as they danced along. Haha.

Also picked up some falafel (which we had today for lunch) and ate ice cream. A 99. With Cadbury Flake. Love Flake. Walked a bit and then ended up returning to the park to meet up with some of her friends and catch the beginning of Dark Knight. Shared a candy floss (aka cotton candy). Drove home, and had an interesting conversation comparing notes about YWAM; she hasn't done it, but her boyfriend did a DTS, and so did a bunch of the friends we'd just hung out with. We are very much on the same page about it, which was nice, because sometimes I feel a bit alone in my opinions. Funny, though, because we had the exact same observations about it as outsiders, which made those observations feel a bit more reasonable.

Came home, got a million hours of sleep.

These past few days have been totally different from the rest of my time here because...

-no school
-living in a house, with parents and children and everything
-insanely summery weather
-car.

I'd sort of forgotten what it was like to sit in a car until this week. Luas, yes. Bus, yes. Train, yes. Walking, yes. Car?? No. Sitting in the passenger seat (but driver's seat position) with the windows down and a little music blasting, the mountains ahead and the sunset behind. What a feeling.

Sorry for the rambling-ness of this post. I am at this point mostly writing for my own memory's sake. But this has, so far, been such an amazing last few days in this country. Just 1.5 more. (It's halfway through Monday already...)

Day 3 Of Utter Freedom

2009-05-31T01:25:00.003+01:00

Ahh I had such a lovely day. Woke up in a leisurely fashion, got dressed and hung out on the trampoline with A and her 12-year-old sister. My legs felt like they were roasting in my jeans, so I dug out my one pair of shorts that have never seen the light of day till now. I brought them in case I went somewhere hot on break or something. I never dreamed they would be useful in Ireland...and yet, here they are.

Then I went off to wander the Trinity campus, where I'd heard rumour of a picnic get-together somewhere on the green, although I thought they'd be long gone by the time I got there. But they weren't! Some friends, some acquaintances. Lovely weather. I joined them for a game of Uno, which I completely and utterly lost, as in last place out of like...seven...and then as everyone trickled away and it was just down to a couple of us, I kicked around a deflated Gaelic football, distributed some Haribo Gold Bears, and had a long, meandering chat with my bud Geoff until the sun moved away from our spot and we were completely in the shade. But we ended up just moving to the rugby pitch to continue our conversation there.

I embarked on an unexpected adventure when a friend of his joined us after her bag was stolen from her in Bewley's Cafe on Grafton St, a place that I've never considered the slightest bit unsafe. Nuts, I have to stop feeling cocooned in safety just because I'm in cozy Dublin. The Gardai called shortly after she'd explained the situation to us to tell her that someone had dropped off the bag, minus the valuable stuff, at a station, so we went way up the Northside to recover it. Then I ended up tagging along with them to a little dinner gathering at the house of some other acquaintances, where we sat outside in the cool of nightfall, balancing plates on our laps and batting at bugs. We went inside...I washed the dishes...we drank tea...had a bit of ice cream...listened to awful cheesy music on someone's cell phone. Then, because it was dark and late and I had no real idea of where I was because I'd been blindly following along, said cheesy music lover escorted me from the house to the Luas, and I made my way home.

This weather is making me all those memories of grey, cloudy days and endless drizzle fade into a hazy cloud in the back of my mind. I'm totally going to come home and think Ireland has the best weather ever. Ha!

Sunshine and Summertime

2009-05-29T17:25:00.007+01:00

There's practically a heat wave in Dublin this weekend. I've actually broken a sweat walking around. I know, right?

But it feels like summer! I smell barbecue smoke everywhere I go, the skies are blue, and the girls are baring their legs. It's about time. (And it won't last for more than a coupla days.)

Anyway, yesterday morning my friend came to pick up my GINORMOUS suitcases in her car, and then I spent a few more hours cleaning the apartment. I cleaned so well, my mother would be shocked and amazed. I was shocked and amazed. Then I went into town to drop off my keys at my study abroad centre, pick up a package, and make a donation of clothes and books at a charity shop.

After that, I met up with some friends for lunch at Trinity, and we sat on the green for what ended up being hours, making fun of the way seagulls walk and going through the contents of my package. We had a big laugh flipping through the In Touch I received and they tasted Sour Patch Kids for the very first time. And loved them. Of course.

We finally got up to go, and on our way out we ran into some more friends. This conversation really occurred:

Boy 1: So what are you doing this summer, Stephanie?
Friend 1: She's working at Dairy Queen.
Me: (I smack the girl in the arm.) That's a lie. [She really wants me to work at a Dairy Queen to fulfill all her beliefs and expectations about America]
Boy 2: Have you just been slagging Steph all day about being American?
Friend 2: No! Not slagging, we're actually learning!
Friend 1: Yeah, did you know band camp really exists?

I finally made my way out of there and went home with my Luas buddy, one of the boys from that conversation (he lives close to me, so we always end up taking the Luas together). And then I said a round of goodbyes, which was sadness.

I'll say it again: it's crazy how fast this semester flew by, and crazier how much of a life I built here. I didn't imagine that by the end of my time here, I'd have friends saying "Ah, it's been too long" when I run into them and start humming the Chris Brown/Elmo duet "Signs," or pleading with me not to go home and joking about mass, awkward Skype dates with me. But I do. Sigh.

Anyway, so I came back to A's house, and then we went to her little sister's dance show in Dun Laoghaire.* Since the weather was so nice there were loads of boats on the water and people walking the promenade, and I decided for sure that if I ever come into a lot of money [*cough*marry rich*cough*], I'm going to get a summer home in Dun Laoghaire, or maybe Howth, but definitely on the coast--a short commute from Dublin and a short commute from the countryside. Perfection!

And then we stopped by at a chipper and got chips and milkshakes. Yum.

Today (Fri), I went into town, ran some errands, and wandered through the sunshine. Delightful. And now I am going out soon for cocktails at A's sister's place and a night on the town. Few days till I'm home!

*Fun fact. In P.S. I Love You, during the flashback to when Hilary Swank and Gerard Butler first meet, she tells him she's staying in "Dun Laoghaire." But pronounces it like it looks. And he makes fun of her. Because it's pronounced "Dun Leary."

Status:

2009-05-27T21:57:00.004+01:00

Exam: Completed. Ended up being no big deal (Good thing because I didn't study much...)

Celebratory post-exam, done-with-junior-year drink: Consumed at the Pav with another study abroad student who only had to do half the exam, like me

Bathroom: Sparkling clean

Refrigerator, freezer, and cupboards: Empty

Full rubbish bags taken out in the past hour: 3

Estimated future rubbish bags to take out, not including recycling: 3?

Most urgent task that I cannot seem to muster the energy to do right now: PACKING.

Current tool of distraction: Lie to Me

Time I need to be out of the apartment: Noon tomorrow

Plans for the next week: Some coffee/lunch dates, a birthday celebration, cheering on my friend in the city mini-marathon, picking up a package (!) [the sender knows who she is], dropping off books and clothes to donate at charity shops, spending Zara gift card and contemplating how to fit whatever I buy into my stuffed-to-the-gills bags...

Approximate time until I am on American soil again: 1 week minus 2 hours.

On Language

2009-05-26T13:11:00.004+01:00

Becca left this morning. I woke up early to help her transport one of her suitcases to the bus in the city centre so she wouldn't have to call a cab.

And now I'm alone in this big apartment. A bundle of emotions.

I still have to pack and finish cleaning, so it's not like I don't have a lot to do. Plus, I have to study for my exam tomorrow. (Ack.)

Then Thursday I am transporting my belongings (should be tricky) to my friend's house where I will lodge for a few nights until my flight home on Wednesday.

Sigh. Deeper thoughts later. For now:

I was scrolling through my posts here and I have a few unfinished ones about speech patterns and accents and how I've tried not to adopt all the Irish speech habits because I tend to think that sounds forced/fake, but at this point, a lot of words just slip out. On top of that, when I was in Italy, Julianne made fun of me for the way I said something, because it slipped out with a particularly Irish cadence. It's this weird lilt that emerges usually when I'm talking to an Irish person but sometimes even when I'm not. I'm going to have to drop that before I come home.

Anyway, here's something I wrote on May 8:

-It seems like the past few times that I've been in conversation with a group of Irish friends, it's always turned into a "let's laugh at all the American things you say" sort of thing. I try to code-switch into Irish sometimes, but there are times when I'm not sure if it's appropriate. Such a moment led to a long discussion of cookies vs. biscuits. In my opinion, there is a large area of intersection, but there are definitely biscuits that I might call "crackers" or maybe "tea biscuits" to be clear. And there are cookies that...well, that can't really be called biscuits because apparently they've not been heard of. I started listing what I consider to be "cookies"--chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and then we got completely sidetracked by the "snickerdoodle" thing. I said it was a "sugar cookie" rolled in cinnamon and spices, and they were like, "What's a sugar cookie?" So I said it was a cookie with nothing in it, and then they made fun of me for eating "vacuum cookies." Oh the Irish and their relentless teasing.

I also got mocked for putting peanut butter and "jam" together on a regular basis, for going to "middle school," for the way I say "tomato." And criticized for not saying "awesome" enough like a true American, although I had to admit that I purposely tone down the "awesome" because I noticed early on how out of place it sounds. I also stopped saying "great," although I couldn't bring myself to say "grand" instead until very recently. "Brilliant" was easier. But mostly I just say "amazing."-

Here's a bit from early April:

-Irish and American accents, except for the thickest versions, are really not so different. But I still, surprisingly often, have tangled conversations when I get to a word I or the other party doesn't quite recognize. And think about it. If an Irish person came to America, you would appreciate them toning down their accent and saying things like "vacation" instead of "hols" or "bangs" instead of "fringe." You'd probably figure out what they meant by "fringe," but the conversation would flow better; you wouldn't be sitting there thinking "what a faker, that person is trying to talk like an American." You might not even realize that there is a vocabulary difference. So I've started deliberately switching out words, and it's a relief.-

The one thing I haven't adopted is the word "cheers." It's used before/after/instead of "bye," "thank you," "you're welcome," and more. But it's just too much for me. On the other hand, "thanks a million," a phrase I used regularly in correspondence before coming here, has now firmly entrenched itself in my lexicon. I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty delighted when I realized everyone walks around saying "thanks a million" instead of "thanks a lot" or "thanks so much" or other more unimaginative phrases.

Okay, that's enough of that. Bye for now. Off to do more cleaning/stuying.

Forgot to Title This.

2009-05-22T19:45:00.007+01:00

(Oops.)

My heart rate is abnormally quick at the moment. I think it was the cappuccino I had earlier? Weird, because caffeine usually doesn't affect me much. Can't even keep me awake.

Hmm. What has been up?

I've been to two shows this past week; on Saturday I went to a modern dance show that was part of the Dublin Dance Festival called "Fall and Recover." It was created and performed by John Scott and survivors of torture as a means of dance therapy, and it was a really interesting, powerful show. I also went to see Parade last night, performed by a college musical theatre program, because my friend had a friend in it. It was interesting because the story felt so intensely American, and yet here it was being played out on an Irish stage by Irish students. Some of the performers were outstanding, though. Incredible voices.

Today was my last day volunteering, and I finished up some work and was surprised by a little tea break/party they put together for me. Fridays are a pretty quiet day, so not everyone was there, but we ate cupcakes and had a good long chat about all kinds of things...my future, immigration, terrorism, being multi-lingual...I will definitely miss spending time with and learning so much from these people, all of whom were so welcoming and fun to be around. Plus, they all have such interesting perspectives on things. For example: we were talking about paranoia towards/discrimination against Muslims and Arabs, and my supervisor told us about her Somalian friend whose life in London was made a little more miserable after the London bombings because she veiled and was therefore obviously Muslim. But then she noted that, in fact, she knew how that felt--"I'm old enough to remember when opening my mouth in London meant I would get dirty looks for being Irish, because people automatically identified me with the IRA." Interesting, right? I never would've thought about that. Or we were discussing immigrants learning English, and not only did I have an opinion to share, so did several of my co-workers, including a Congolese guy and a Nigerian.

Anyway, it was a lovely goodbye, and they even got me a gift card to Zara, which is beyond nice of them. I am going to have to mail them a thank you card.

After that I rushed to meet some people for coffee/say goodbye in this fantastic cafe/bar I just recently discovered called Cafe en Seine. It's huge and a magical wonderland inside, all art deco-y. It was a lovely place to chat, and then my friend Emma gave me an unexpected birthday gift because she is too sweet! It's a brilliant little package of Lush shower jelly and an emotibomb. There are 2 Lush stores in the city centre, but I've never bought anything because it always feels slightly too expensive, especially in euros. In any case, I would wager to say that I am the recipient of more love than I deserve, and God placed some fabulous people in my path to make Dublin such an easy place to call home.

Home.

Can you believe that?

In an email recently a CERTAIN FRIEND that I can't wait to see wrote..."in reading your blog throughout the semester it's been crazy to watch you change and settle in and develop friends and places...and a home really."

True dat (double true).

It's been a wild five months. I have some reflections on the whole process of losing sight of/rediscovering myself, uprooting/settling, changing/clinging, and everything else that studying abroad has been for me. Not sure if I will properly articulate them here in the future. But. I have them.

In other news, I've started packing, but it's slow going...I packed pretty light originally but have acquired some possessions that I am reluctant to leave behind. Plus I have a few gifts and stuff. So. We'll see how this goes. I will have to study for my exam at some point, too.

Just for kicks, a return to some of my very first pictures in Dublin...when everything was weird and fresh, and none of the craziness that went down in my life in January had yet occurred...including me losing this camera.

Christmas lights in Dublin

I like this picture mostly because the place where I volunteer is just down this street one block further. But of course I didn't know that at the time. I was just wandering around, taking photos at random.

I took this in my hostel bathroom that first night. Mostly I just want us all to contemplate how short my hair is here. Although it's partly an illusion, it's crunched up from being in a ponytail. Still. Life moves forward oh so quickly.

Party Time

2009-05-21T00:11:00.002+01:00

Birthday recap.

Because I have amazing roommates (one of whom is now back home in Maine, sad face), I had a very fun, low-key 21st birthday. I was volunteering that day, but I managed to get to Stephen's Green for lunch, where a girl from CU had organized a last get-together before she went back home to England. And then in the evening I came home to find M working on last minute touches on two cakes (she was trying to use up some cocoa powder before she went home). She is an amazing baker, and made...

-One chocolate cake with the most incredible homemade chocolate icing....ever. I could eat that stuff out of a bowl. She has a gift.

-And a berry cake (my favorite of her creations) with glittery candles shaped like...do you have any idea?

It's okay if you can't tell; B's the one who designed them, and M had no clue. But as soon as I saw it, I quickly identified the shape as a narwhal. Don't ask me how...

See? Already so much to love in them.

Then we had a "slash" night, meaning we were celebrating/commemorating a double event--my birthday slash M's goodbye. The three of us went to dinner where we found delicious Mexican food, reminisced, and giggled a lot. Oh, and we were wearing matching cardigans, because when we were killing some time in Cork, we went to Penneys. Which is like our kryptonite. On the way to the fitting room we saw these cardigans on the wall and each grabbed one to try on. Only when it came time to check out, it turned out all of us had opted out of buying anything but that cardigan--me in grey, M in blue, and B in grey and blue. So we decided to wear them together as a last hurrah.

Then we met up with our friend Liz (she went to Greece with us, too) for a night on the town. Actually, our other Greece friend was supposed to join us, but those plans were derailed when her mom completely surprised her with a visit from home! Understandably, she spent the night with her mom, instead. Four was a good number, though, and Liz is just such a great person to be around that she rounded us out to a nice, even group of Fun.

We started at Doyle's, a pub by Trinity, where we chatted for a long time over our first round of drinks and I was scolded every time I slipped off that stupid tiara they gave me (says "Birthday Princess" on it, and judging by the way it did not fit my head, it was meant for a child. Or I have a large head. Or both. Probably both). They thought I should be sitting at the bar to entice people to buy me drinks, and I countered that I was perfectly happy in our corner booth. And so I was.

From there, just for kicks, we made our way to The Mezz. I still can't tell you exactly what I'd call that place. It drew an interesting crowd, and there was a band playing reggae music because it was apparently reggae night...but when they weren't doing covers, they played their own stuff, which was ska. What? Yeah, I don't know. We did bust out the cake I'd carefully packed into Tupperware and stuffed into my purse, though. I wanted Liz to try some. It was kind of the perfect late night snack.

Our last stop was Q Bar, which...I would not call my favorite bar, although it was my first time there. It was just kind of weird, an effect exacerbated by the fact that it was a Wednesday night. But it's a bar/club and there was no cover (we stayed out of the "club," though, that was even weirder), plus they had really cheap cocktails.

Oh, I lied. We did make one final stop after we got out of there. We went to Abrakebabra for some classic, late night fast food. And then we went home.

It was a lovely, overall quite classy night.

And! I wore my fierce red shoes, courtesy of Elliott, who sent them over when Sofia and Janet came to visit. They are truly something else. Not the most comfortable pair I own by any stretch, seeing as how I lose feeling in my big toes after about 4 minutes, but pretty!

Last time I wore them was at the ball in March, which I never really told you about. All you need to know, really, is that this happened partway through the night:

I know, right? What is going on? (It was "Don't Rock the Boat.")

And, if you're wondering, I wore an awesome steal of a long black dress. I had to do a little loose altering (I did a quick stitch in the back), but it was so comfy and floaty and easy and 100% silk. And a good buy--saved a ton by buying it at "T.K. Maxx."

Some Anticipation

2009-05-19T13:57:00.004+01:00

Guys. I'm home in 2 weeks and a day. How did this happen? I've been dreading this moment for so long, but I've decided to try to look at the bright side. This is the bright side.

I can't wait for:
-Chipotle
-Qdoba
-California Tortilla
-Baja Fresh
[Do you see how many cheap, yummy Mexican food options there are at home? BE GRATEFUL.]
-Panera
-Bloom (the grocery store by our house--not picked for any reason other than proximity, although their handheld scanner device things are pretty neato)
-Korean food, both in the home and in restaurants
-Basically all the cheap food options that can be found in the town center, Falls Grove, that shopping center by church--like Five Guys. Mamma Lucia. Cosi. Yumm.

Moving away from food:
-My happy room with all my books. I think when I get home I will throw them all on the floor and take a nap with them, just so I can breathe their air again.
-My warm and lovely house with all my family members. I think when I get home I will throw them all on the floor and take a nap with them. (Just kidding! Also, I'm pretty much guranteed to be picking fights with everyone after about five minutes, because that is my unfortunate way of relating to my family.)
-My parents' bed, because it is the best (mine comes second), and I would live in it if I could. I'm still brainstorming a way to set up an entire home in that bed. When I'm home on breaks, I totally get under the covers and chill there for a few hours after they go to work. And I don't re-make the bed. REBELLION.
-Dryer!! I don't actually mind air-drying my clothes, although it would be better if we could actually line-dry as opposed to rack-dry. And if we were allowed to dry our clothes out our balconies and use real air, which is forbidden by the landlords because, I guess, it's kind of an eyesore. But I do LOVE the feeling of clothes straight out of the dryer. Not folding them though. Hate that. Ask my dad.
-Fully loaded kitchen, no improvising with utensils necessary.
-Seeing friends' faces. And, I guess, talking to them.
-DVR. I watch so little TV here even though we have a TV, because I'm too busy. I do occasionally watch stuff online. But I miss quality TV. And I'm aware there are people who thing TV rots your brain and everyone should turn it off and read instead. And speaking as someone who loves books more than almost anything in the world, I will fight you on this (if you're all-or-nothing about it, I mean). But that is a discussion for another time.
-That's all I can think of that I really miss right now. And I need to get back to work.

See you soon-ish. Some of you. Some of you I won't see for a very long time. Which reminds me, tell me what you're doing this summer (if I don't know)? I realize I should be sending you a personal message/email, but I might forget.

[Edit] Ooh! Just thought of another. Can't wait to see my church kids, especially my girls, some of whom have been emailing me recently. Okay. Now I'm done.

Small-Town Dublin

2009-05-18T13:02:00.003+01:00

Yesterday evening as I was heading off to church, on my way to the Luas I ran into two boys I know from school who live in my area--they'd just gotten back from church. I said a brief, surprised hello, and then I was on my way.

When I got to the city centre, I was walking down Grafton Street, lost in my thoughts, when I heard a voice call my name. Startled, I looked up to see my friend A wheeling a small suitcase and coming towards me. She'd just returned from a weekend trip and we had a quick chat, laughing about how you always run into people you know on Grafton. Just as we were finishing up that conversation, I heard a voice from behind me say my name.

Seriously? Yup. It was my flatmate and her friend, who's visiting for a few days. They'd been out doing tourist-y things and were just on their way to grab a bite to eat.

For such a big city (not that it's huge, but certainly substantial), it's uncanny how small it often feels. I regularly bump into people I know all over town, and it is just strange. When Sofia and Janet were visiting, it happened three times--a boy from class on the street, a girl from the CU on another street, a boy from church at Croke Park. Confession: I've even stooped to hiding once or twice because these small-town type run-ins sometimes mean awkward conversation, which is basically the bane of my existence.

But this is also one of the reasons why I love Dublin. It never feels overpowering and anonymous the way other cities do. It's cozy and familiar in a way that so few capital cities are.

Cork

2009-05-17T23:09:00.001+01:00

One last excursion to recap, and then I'm done! Last Monday-Tuesday, my flatmates and I headed to Cork, thus concluding our trips around Ireland. We hit the North (Belfast and Port Rush), West (Galway and Aran Islands), East (...Dublin, and Wicklow, I guess) and now South (Cork and Blarney).

-We took the bus there but hopped the train back.

-Cork felt, at first, like a mini-Dublin. Natives of Cork would kill me if they heard me say that, because they generally feel pretty strongly about the superiority of their city to the capital. But with the river running through it and the similarly named quays, the main shopping street, the pubs, etc, everything just felt like a smaller, slightly cozier version of my city. A bit slower. A bit more quaint. It did, after a few hours, start to take on its own flavor. The Cork accent is easily identifiable to me, for some reason (others are not; I can tell if you're from the North in about two seconds, but sorting out the various regions of Dublin is quite harder). People stopped in the road to let us cross, which is unheard of in the Big D, despite the friendliness (the friendliness never quite reaches drivers, apparently). But that was my first impression.

One of the only pictures I took of the actual city of Cork; too bad, because they have some pretty colored buildings lining the river

-After checking into our hostel, we took a bus to Blarney Castle to do the whole kissing the Blarney stone, touristy business. I was not terribly enthused about putting my lips on the "herpes rock" (my personal nickname for it, but apparently one I share with some of my Irish friends, haha), but when it came down to it, I did it. Just barely.

Kissing it! You have to flip upside down while an old guy holds your legs.

view from the top of the castle

-While the Blarney stone was a bit of overhyped rubbish in the end, although it's fun to be able to say that I kissed it now, the actual grounds of the castle were stunning. We did a long walk around the gardens and fields behind it, and saw some incredible fields, including some random herds of cows and horses.

Blarney Castle exterior

from the "lake walk"

Before we actually got to the castle, it was so warm and sunny out, plus I hadn't gotten a ton of sleep the night before, that I was feeling a bit lethargic on our walk around. Finally, I convinced the others it would be a good idea to plop down on an empty patch of grass and close our eyes for a bit. As I drifted off, I turned to one side and took this picture...

Meanwhile, Becca took this one...

One of my many cow/horse shots. They were being far too friendly. It was a little creepy.

-After returning to Cork, we had an early dinner, trying to take advantage of the nice weather by finding a place with a little rooftop terrace. Unfortunately, it was a bit chillier at that point because of the wind. Still, it was nice.

Becca took this picture while we were waiting for the waiter...

-After dinner, we hit up UCC (University College Cork--where I briefly considered as a study abroad option in addition to Dublin) to walk around, because I'd heard tales of a beautiful campus. Those tales were correct. It was breathtaking lovely, so collegiate and cozy. We marveled that students were actually wearing jeans and hoodies, as opposed to the tights + short flowered dress + boots ensemble or other such fashion plate looks that are so prevalent on my city campus. Kind of a breath of fresh air. Still, although UCC was enchanting, I'm doubly glad I picked Dublin. I would have had a far less interesting semester anywhere else.

Students lolling on the green (they're allowed on the green?!?) as the sun starts to set.

-After that, we did a little pub hopping. Bulmers has been going on a huge ad campaign for their new pear cider, which is hilarious because of its incredible Irishness--it tackles the whole stubborn resistance to change and heavy attachment to tradition headon by making it part of the joke. (See video here.) Anyway, after being bombarded with those ads, I figured it was time to try this infamous new product.

Verdict? Delicious. But I tasted no alcohol. At all. I drank my way through a pint of it without the slightest hint of it. It's not overly sweet the way no-alcohol-tasting drinks usually are, though. Just like light, fizzy pear soda. Amazing! (Still, I am partial to Bulmer's original because...it was the first to win me over, I guess.)

-Next day, we hit up St. Fin Barre's cathedral, which was quite beautiful, inside and out.

-And in the afternoon, the English Market, an amazing world of meat and produce and cheese and chocolate and...ahhh. Food markets. It doesn't get better...

-And then we hopped the train and headed back home.

Bye, Cork! (More flowers from Blarney.)

Phoenix Park and Howth Redux

2009-05-17T12:51:00.001+01:00

[Okay, I started writing this last Sunday but never finished, so...here it is now.]

While B was in Amsterdam, M and I went to Phoenix Park on Thursday. It's an enormous public park that holds the Dublin Zoo, the American Embassy, the president's house, and the papal cross commemorating JP's visit in 1979. When we got to the entrance, we saw a bike rental place, so we picked up a couple of bikes and were off.

This is the president's house...it looks (sorry) like a cheap model of the White House. Haha! Fun fact: the president of Ireland is a woman (Mary McAleese), but the office of the president is largely ceremonial--almost like the Queen. The PM (called Taoiseach around these parts) is the real powerful one.

We also discovered a super cool playground, and saw this sign:

We kind of assumed it was just a phrase we didn't understand, until we walked around a bit more and discovered...there was an actual circus there, a small, kind of sketchy one tucked behind the visitors' center. Weeeird. Anyway, here's my final Phoenix Park shot for you:

Okay. So then, on Sunday, the two of us went back to Howth. If you remember, we went for the first time on Feb 7 (B came, too). Summary: It was cold, it was windy, it was muddy, it was gorgeous, the map was not to scale, and we almost made it to the lighthouse...almost.

But we decided we needed to go back and see the castle before M left the country, so we made a second trip. I was also hoping to see the famed rhododendrons at least partially in bloom, particularly because on my last Ulysses paper my professor wrote a note ordering me to do so.

We talked throughout the day about how weird it was that the last time we went, we had difficulty finding the train station and my hair was so short--it feels both really recent and really long ago.

The weather was merciful and sunny; a bit windy, but generally quite nice. And we were pleasantly surprised to discover a Sunday market that was just heavenly. A few jewelry stands, including some fantastic freshwater pearls. Irish natural skincare products. Fresh. Produce. Bread. Cheese. Nuts. Olives. Fudge. Cupcakes. Ahhh! For lunch I settled on falafel and a tiny diamond of baklava for dessert. It was so yum. Also picked up a punnet of strawberries and a nice hunk of cheese.

Also, I noticed that the "Tram Chowder" tram looked a lot less random and lonely surrounded by the market:

In January...

In May...

We wandered around the market a bit and then decided to go see the castle. I'm going to miss castles. Haha.

And then we hiked up the hill past the castle, past the golf course, and past the golf-y hotel to find the rhododendron gardens, which were not in full bloom but still pretty darn spectacular...

Here's the golf course...

Check out that sky!

Here's a random selection of pictures from our exploration/mini-hike into the flowery wilderness.

I still have to put up the rest of the pictures, so a link to that...later.

Happy Sunday!

Como Una Madrileña

2009-05-09T22:17:00.006+01:00

In the last couple of hours:

Made a puff pastry pizza, half with marinara as a base and half with pesto. Topped with sauteed red onion and bell pepper. And chunks of lime-marinated chicken. It was...delicious.

Went for a walk/jog to get some air. I'm not used to Saturdays at home, frankly. And I spent nearly all of mine indoors. So I pulled on sneakers and a hoodie, grabbed my iPod, and launched myself outdoors for half an hour. Spent some time looping around the monastery by my flat (which I just recently discovered was there, thanks to my native friend pointing it out). Stood in the monastery's parking lot watching the sun set over my peaceful village-suburb in a glorious peachy glow. Observed three baby foxes duck into the forest to escape my approaching feet. Meditated and prayed a bit. Thought about how much I was going to miss Ireland. Then tried not to think about leaving.

Watched the second half of a movie with M.

Decided to write this post about Spain to get "caught up" at last.

---

Makala and I flew into Madrid Friday morning and returned Sunday night, so we had a good 3 days there. I'm going to run this down randomly for you because I don't want to work my way through a logical recap.

-It was warm! The warmest three days I've experienced in months and months. It went right up to the mid-70s, maybe hit 80. Cooler in the morning and evening, but still, it felt like summer with that kind of heat. And not a drop of rain or anything. I was sweating. What a novelty.

-The metro station was impressively comprehensible. It makes perfect sense and is ridiculously easy to navigate. I would say it rivals London's tube in that respect.

-We stayed in such a nice hotel. After all our hostels, this was like heaven. I should've taken pictures, but I was too tired each night and too rushed each morning to think of it. When it came around to book accommodation, seriously every single hostel was fully booked for at least Friday night, if not the whole weekend. So I turned to hotels.com instead, and it did not fail me. We scored an incredible deal for a 4-star hotel outside the city centre; we had to take the metro to get central, but it was no big deal. We paid similar to what we've paid before for hostels. And the beds! The bathroom! The everything! Glorious. I LOVE nice hotel rooms. Like...ask my parents. When we do family vacations that involve nice hotel rooms, I more or less have to be dragged from the bed kicking and screaming each day.

-Madrid is a great city to walk around, especially in the sunshine...and we did a lot of it. Our first day was May 1, which is a kind of international labour day, so everything was closed. Therefore, we ended up getting a walking tour of the city, courtesy of Peyton, and we walked...alllll day. But it's pretty cool, with its differently flavored barrios (neighborhoods). My feet were dead by the end of the day, though.

Some random concert/rally we ended up observing in honor of international labor day. The were all "lucha y fiesta" about everything (struggle and party). Sounds like the Spanish way. Music was pretty good, though.

-At one point we desperately needed a break to rest our feet after traipsing through every barrio in the city, all of which have quite different vibes. But at the moment when we decided we couldn't handle it anymore and we really needed to sit, the benches we spotted were located in a vaguely sketchy part of town, and facing a big wall instead of the street. We were "people watching," but after a while we realized how bizarre our bench location was, and I took a picture with our wall--this was what we were looking at for a solid half hour when there was a perfectly lovely street view behind us.

We also spent a bit of time deciphering these drawings...

-Other wanderings:

Parque del Retiro: large, beautiful, crowded, and a great place to relax or people-watch

The Atocha Railway Station--inside is a small "jungle" and a turtle pond. Random...

Plaza Mayor, the main plaza in Madrid

As we were walking, I discovered an actual Haribo store. I pretty much died and went to heaven right there. They weirdly didn't have "ositos de oro" (Little Gold Bears!) in bulk, though. Or at least, not that I could find in my embarrassed scurry through the store.

-The food, aside from paella and tapas, is not so impressive. Actually, tapas are pretty delicious but don't ever feel particularly nutritious.

My college friends, Peyton and Susan, who are in different programs in Madrid. This paella was quite delicious...

-The drinks, on the other hand...I had so many sangrias and tintos de verano that weekend, it was not even funny. So good. "Tinto/vino de verano" is a simple drink of red wine and a Spanish brand of lemon-lime soda (like Sprite, but less sweet). Sounds questionable but is beyond delicious. Like magic in your mouth. Yum.

-If on day 1 we walked all day and saw everything there is to see, at least from the exterior, on day 2 we did the major sightseeing bits: the Palacio Real (Royal Palace) and the Prado Museum. We ended up standing in line FOREVER for the palace. It was unusually long (maybe the good weather plus the fact that it was a "holiday"? Dos de Mayo), but when we got in line we thought it would take 45 minutes, tops, to get in the door. By the time we got in, paid for our tickets, and got through security, TWO HOURS had passed. It's a good thing I like my friends, or that could've been torture, 2 hours in the blazing sun.

The palacio

The royal cathedral--very cool

-Weirdly, no pictures of Prado or anything Prado related. Suffice it to say, it's an impressive museum with some great stuff inside. Haha. The Goya collection, in particular, is fantastic. What they don't have enough of are benches inside the rooms to sit on and pretend like you're thinking deeply about the art when in fact you are just contemplating how your feet hurt and everything is starting to blur together. Or is that just me? In all art museums? I am so bad at being cultured.

-Saturday night, we went to this hole in the wall type basement bar, where there was live jazz piano (nobody was really listening to the guy but us, though) and amazing sangria. It was so smoky and sweaty though, my eyes were kind of perpetually watery. I'd show you the photo of us with flash (it's in the album), but I look so shiny and my poor roomie looks so pink with sunburn that this is just a kinder picture.

-Sunday we spent a good part of the day wandering El Rastro, the enormous flea market that takes up the streets of one neighborhood. The main area is filled with jewelry and scarf and clothing stands, but when you get into the side streets, there are more junk and treasure sales. I had so much fun weaving around and--the best part--bartering in Spanish. I am terrible at bartering in English because I just hate it, everything about it. I generally refuse to do it. But somehow I feel a lot more assertive and free when doing it in Spanish. I think it helps that I establish an early upper hand by surprising the seller with my Spanish, which makes me less of an obvious tourist target. Then, they start joking around with me and it all turns into a kind of laughing, friendly banter thing which puts me at ease as well. And there's also a freedom in knowing my limitations in communication. Somehow. If that makes sense. I'm getting tired. Anyway, I even started haggling over things I didn't necessarily want, just because it was fun and I liked chatting with all the wily old Spanish men. Ha.

-Bottom line: Madrid was fun. Great city to visit. Would love to spend a little more time there. Still, I wasn't in love with it. I'd say it's great craic but not "charming" the way other places I've visited are charming. Make sense? No? Too bad, I'm going to bed now.

More pictures here.

Bella Italia!

2009-05-09T19:50:00.001+01:00

So. Italy. I want to tell you about it.

I spent a delightfully slow and relaxed weekend in Italy with my friend Julianne, who studied in Siena this semester. Why slow and relaxed? Well, because we were in Siena and Bologna, neither of which are bursting at the seams with tourist activities, so we spent most of the time just strolling around. And we were sort of on the same page about what kind of traveling we really like to do--wandering around and absorbing the "vibe" rather than attacking all the sights without a break. So it worked out well.

Anyway, I love spending time with Julianne because sometimes I feel like we're such unlikely friends. And also, it's just fun to watch her live. She's passionate about food and Romance languages and studies religion. She's fantastic at learning languages, I think because she's that girl who raises her hand and participates in class all the time; she's not afraid of making mistakes or saying something silly. Therefore...she's mad skilled. And it's also probably thanks to that attitude of hers that we're friends. Spring semester of freshman year, we ended up in 3 out of 4 classes together; we had mutual friends, so one day she just came over to me and suggested we do our chemistry homework together. Next thing I knew we were hanging out on a regular basis. Haha.

Anyway, like I said earlier, we spent most of the weekend with just the two of us walking around and talking. We talked about religion. She's a religion major and wanted a brief, in-depth history of Christianity--what did I mean when I said "high church" and "low church," what's the difference between a Baptist and a Presbyterian and an Episcopalian--so I delivered. And we talked about our families. And boys--lots of talk about boys. She always has fun boy drama; I always have none. She pointed out that it just may be possible that I am too picky about them, and I didn't disagree. She asked me if I'd be one of those girls who married the first person they seriously dated, and I said, wow, I hope not, but probably. Hahaha.

Back to Italy. Siena and Bologna could, in a sense, be described as small slices of "real Italy," even though the whole idea of finding the "real [place]" is kind of a joke with me and some of my friends. Siena is a picturesque Tuscan city whose center is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but it has a pretty relaxed vibe overall. And it's situated in what tourists dream of when they imagine the sun-drenched Tuscan countryside--on my train ride from the airport in Pisa to Siena, I was more or less gaping out the window the whole time at how gorgeous it was. Just like in movies. Except real life. Meanwhile, Bologna is "real" Italy in that it's something of an unassuming college town, vibrant and gritty and with a pretty small tourist presence. Just everyday Italians going about their everyday lives.

Pictures?

I was seriously obsessed with the wild poppies growing by the side of the road in Siena. They are so very pretty. And so very much my favorite flower.

Julianne took me around to a couple of her favorite spots for getting a great view of the surrounding countryside...

This is the "Duomo," or the Cathedral. It's a gorgeous building, inside and out.

This is one shot of the "Piazza del Campo," the big, medieval town square. Lots of people were just sitting out and enjoying the sun, but it's also the home to the Palio, the famous horse race that you see in the opening scene of the most recent James Bond movie (Quantum of Solace).

We headed out on Saturday to Bologna, a couple hours away by bus. Bologna is a great city just to walk around and explore, and they have amazing food there, because it is the home of such classics as tortellini and bolognese sauce (ragu). J and Iboth love food, which worked out well because it meant that we could walk up to an olive stand and purchase a handful to share, as well as split many a plate of pasta.

There was a random book fair, so of course I had to stop by to paw through, even though they were all in Italian...

The Fountain of Neptune

More pictures here.

Winding Down, Almost

2009-05-08T00:05:00.003+01:00

Today was the last CU main meeting, so I stayed long during tea. Hanging out. Laughing my head off (I seriously never laugh as much as I do during tea time after main meeting). And eventually hugging some people most-likely-goodbye, because once exams start nobody will have much time to hang out, and exam period lasts for like a month. That made me just sad. I've gotten to know some people so quickly, and we might not have the deepest relationships, but I just love spending time with them. Irish people are, as a general rule, just fun. And quite cheeky. Always making little quips.

Last night I said goodbye to friends in the program who don't have any exams and are therefore leaving this weekend. That was weird.

After dinner at their apartment, I came back to Dundrum (my little burb) to hang out with my friend A. We went to the cinema to watch 17 Again (and I'm not gonna lie, I loved it)...then afterwards to her house just to relax and eat ice cream with marshmallows and frozen raspberries and leftover homemade chocolate icing. And chat. It was good, good times.

Oh and on Monday evening, I went to a barbecue-acoustic gig fundraiser at someone's house. We ate delicious food and sat around and listened to various people with guitars.

...Earlier today (this is not very chronological), Makala and I went to Phoenix Park, the largest public park in Europe, and rented bikes to "cycle" around...past the president's house, past the US Embassy. We hung out at an awesome playground and creepily watched the little kids. We came back into town for dinner at an Indian place...and I went souvenir hunting for the fam.

Speaking of the fam--Mommy, I'm seriously going to call you, I promise, I just haven't found a good time that would be a good time at home as well. I meant to do it tonight but I'm too tired and need to go to bed! But probably tomorrow.

Te Echo de Menos

2009-05-04T13:03:00.002+01:00

Amigos, I am back from Spain. It was a lovely weekend spent with my roommate Makala and my very good friend Peyton, who is currently studying there. Plus...I got to meet up with the inimitable Susan Y for lunch, so it was an all around win-win weekend.

Plus, it was tan divertido to be hablando en español otra vez, después de unos años. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I remembered and how easily it came back to me. And not so pleasantly surprised by how many random basic words were rusting in the back of my mind and refusing to show up when summoned. Like "small." I spent a good half hour trying to remember the word for "small" as we walked around, and while I could come up with big, long, and short, the only word that popped up when I shifted to "small" was صغير...which is clearly not Spanish. (If you don't have the proper characters turned on and you don't have a Mac, that probably showed up as little boxes to you. Anyway, it's Arabic.)

Still, despite not remembering "small" and "maybe" and the gender of several ambiguous words, I was able to get by. I could order food, ask for directions, laugh at jokes, and help a lost lady at the airport. My accent, while clearly Latin American, all around deceived both friends and extranjeros into thinking my Spanish was better than it truly is.

So bottom line, I miss Spanish! But second bottom line, I'm still glad I chose Ireland and not Spain. I could've handled a semester there, but only because it would only have been 3.5 months or so. For a variety of reasons, but I will elaborate later. After I've caught up with photos from Italy and all that.

I desperately need a good shower, and then I'm heading into the ominous, windy grey skies to go to a "barbeque." We will see how that works out...

Greece...FOOD.

2009-04-28T23:41:00.000+01:00

We will all collectively agree to ignore the fact that I am posting a final Greece recap over a month after my return. I promised a post about the delicious food in Greece, so here it is! I wish I'd more carefully documented everyhing that I consumed because...man. Loved it. All. In particular, I had lots of "cheese pies" and spanakopita ("spinach and cheese pies") for breakfast and snack, but I never took any pictures of them. Bakeries were everywhere filled with huge varieties of delicious treats, and we made at least one if not more bakery stops each day.

I uploaded these pictures in backwards/no particular order, and I'm too lazy to re-order, so not chronological, but...

We were hanging out in Syntagma Square in Athens when we discovered this stall selling sesame pretzel-type things (these guys are a dime a dozen, too). I was curious and it was something like 40 cents so I bought one. Yum! A bit dry, but very subtle in flavor, not particularly sweet or salty or buttery or anything. Also, while I was paying for this some lady totally walked up and just stole one and walked away. She wasn't homeless or anything, just a totally normal woman. I'm putting my money on klepto and/or just lost all her money gambling because it was FORTY CENTS, lady. Come on.

Our first night on Syros, we stocked up on random sweets to try, from these gelatinous cubes covered in coconut flakes to the stuff you see below. At the very top, blending in with the blanket, was a square of honey/sesame candy. It tasted exactly like the Korean kind, you know what I'm talking about? (Some of you do.) It was yum. The Caprice bars were basically like Pirouettes. The big round thing in the middle was nougat, which is apparently the classic island treat because it was everywhere, in all kinds of varieties, and quite delicious. And at the bottom there was a delicious and obviously greasy deep-fried pastry thing covered in honey. Look at the stain it left on the paper bag. Haha.

This was my last pita/gyro of the week, and our final meal. These things were cheap (maybe 2.50 euro?) and SO delicious. Grilled meat, tomatoes, red onion, other veggies, and often chips topped with a yummy yogurt-based sauce wrapped in a warm pita. I kind of want one now.

Moussaka! I ate it for lunch on our second day in Athens in a little cafe in Plaka, which is a touristy area, so we were finagled into eating there by the super-pushy owner. It was quite good, though.

Greek salad. Oh my. Look at that block of feta. Ate this for lunch at an outdoor cafe in Syros in the main square. Veggies so fresh and crispy. I could probably eat this everyday and die a happy woman.

Delicious bread and a fantastic salad at a little pizza place in Syros. The rolls were warm and toasty and the perfect combination of crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside.

I can't remember what this was called, but it was good. It was grilled pork with a mustard sauce and chips.

Chicken souvlaki, and oh so delicious. Grilled with lemon and herbs and deliciousness. Actually, I kind of want THIS now.

Baklava! I got it in this cute cafe in Athens owned by the cutest old man. And holy man do I love this stuff. I actually made it last summer just for kicks, but it wasn't as tasty as this one.

Oh this was some random sandwich I ate for lunch in Athens. Grilled vegetables and feta on whole wheat bread.

This was at Bliss, that terrible organic health food restaurant with the bad service. Tiny portion of couscous was delicious, though. Not as good as the real, Moroccan thing. But tasty.

And this would be the first pita of the week...and my first meal in Athens.

Random picture of me focusing too hard on chowing down to face the camera. This was the souvlaki meal.

And finally, I ate tons of gelato. Like, at least once a day, I think. Except that day in Piraeus. This was an overpriced version that tricked us because takeout and sit-in prices were different, but the sit-in prices weren't posted outside at all. Cute presentation, at least.

And here's my friend Alicia enjoying our first gelato (we shared).

The end.

Ciao

2009-04-27T02:18:00.006+01:00

Sorry, I vanished. I've been going full speed ahead. And now my eyeballs feel like they're about to fall out, so I think I need to go to bed. But I wanted to let you know what I've been up to since I last left you.

-My friend Peyton came for a weekend visit
-I had my last week of classes--which is totally crazy
-I went to small group and a CU main meeting, where I "had a laugh" (aka had a good time) with friends, who found it particularly amusing to play the "what do you call [this] in America" game and then laugh at all of my answers...who knows why, but during the discussion, one attempt to sound as American as possible yielded following sentence from my friend Denise:

"I'm going to math class in high school...where I will buy some crack."

-I submitted a thesis proposal?
-I went to Italy for the weekend to visit my friend Julianne!
-I came home, sweet home.

lovely tuscan countryside

Athens (Day Two)

2009-04-17T00:23:00.000+01:00

Okay, so the ferry landed in the evening, we made our way to the center of Athens and eventually got to the hostel, dumped our stuff...and decided we should go do something. We eventually found a whole strip of cafe/bars that looked like the happening place to be for young Athenians. And man, these people were bringing their A-game. We felt a little under-dressed beside these girls in their short skirts with their sleek hair and batting eyes. So we tucked ourselves into a corner at one of the cafe/bar things by the DJ who insisted on playing two Flo Rida songs in a row and ordered a round of drinks. And that was that. (If you're wondering what I'm drinking, I pulled a Dr. John Dorian. First person to identify my drink based on that clue wins the prize.)

The next day just happened to be Greek Independence Day. Alicia and I set out in the morning while the others slept in a bit to see if we could get to the Acropolis, under the understanding that most of the museums in Athens, including the Acropolis, are actually free on national holidays. What we did not consider was the fact that Greeks don't really like to go to work, and they'll take any excuse they can to skip it. Thus, we experienced my one Great Disappointment for the entire week. The Acropolis was closed for the day, and I would never get to climb it (the others, remember, did so while I went to meet Alicia at the airport). Truly, there was nothing I could have done differently, though, except maybe go to the Acropolis on that awful Piraeus day, but I can't imagine it would have been much fun in the pouring rain, anyway. Still, we were both majorly bummed. And promised each other we would return to Greece someday together and do all the historical stuff. Haha. I should note that the historical stuff was never really the point of this trip; it was planned much more with relaxation in mind, anyway. And I definitely don't regret that we planned it that way.

Well, anyway, we were out and about that morning when we--total weird coincidence--bumped into a group of girls who were studying abroad for the semester in Athens, and I knew two of them! One goes to my college at home and the other is a friend of my roommate's, and I met her when she was visiting Dublin. So bizarre. They invited me and Alicia to follow them to the big parade, which was due to start in an hour, but they wanted to stake out a good spot. And they did so.

patiently waiting for the parade to start

The parade itself was...quite interesting.

It was a military parade, so the first half was just a lot of tanks and large vehicles manned by angry-looking men in camo rolling through, and a few surprise airplane demonstrations. And then there were lots of variously costumed groups marching around. Like these guys:

And these. I'd have to say the firemen were the worst marchers. I think they're not very used to it, because they weren't in step at all, and one guy just stopped lifting his arm altogether.

I do have to tell you about the angry crowds during the parade. We'd gotten to our spot almost an hour before the parade began, and we made sure all the little kids around us stood in front, but when some of the adults behind us starting shoving and yelling for us (and a few other younger people in the front) to move, get out of the way, etc etc, I started losing my patience. I obviously wasn't going to say anything, but it did take away from my enjoyment of everything. But after the parade was over, when the small group of us were standing together incredulous rehashing the behavior of some of these grown adults, a 20-something man came over to us and said simply, "I'm sorry about those people, I don't want it to ruin your impression of Greece. We are not all like that. I promise you, we are not." And it was so sweet, and said with no ulterior motivation and not at all in the anticipated creepy, hitting-on-you kind of way. And then he vanished into the crowds.

Then Alicia and I met up with the rest of the crew and we made our way to Plaka, where we were hassled into eating lunch at one of the outdoor cafes and wandered through the shops.

a particularly cool wine shop

After Plaka, we decided even if we couldn't go to the Acropolis we should try to get as near as possible. The only problem was that it started to rain. Really hard. We were all a bit under-prepared, and I wasn't so amused when the signs we followed took us to a dead end.

We ended up going back to the entrance to the Theatre of Dionysus, where we were when we split up that first day. Alicia hadn't been there yet, so we took some pictures in the rain...

attempting to "break in"

And then we took the long, wet walk back to the hostel. I can't even remember where this was--maybe inside the national gardens--but ran into these tiles on the ground:

Anyway, we also ran into a rainbow...

And stopped by at the Olympic stadium...

And I caught a nice sun flare...

And we picked up a new friend. Remember how I told you about the crazy wandering dogs in the city? Well this one attached himself to us for a solid thirty or forty minutes and followed us straight across town. We thought he'd lose interest after a while, but he didn't. I jokingly yelled at him, "Go home, Roger!" (A Sister, Sister reference...anyone? Anyone?) And we subsequently dubbed him Roger.

Oh Rog, you silly dog.

The above picture was taken after we'd gently shoved him away from the hostel door, changed clothes, contemplated our next move, and decided to go find dinner. A good half hour had passed. But when we stepped out of the hostel and started down the sidewalk, there he was again, waiting for us...

And then the next morning, it was goodbye, Greece.

But wait! There's one more post coming. And it's the post entirely on the FOOD in Greece. I know, the suspense is killing you.

Currently:

2009-04-16T15:16:00.005+01:00

Hello friends.

I...

...came to the biblioteca this morning to start tap-tap-tapping away at the keys for this essay that will not write itself.

...took a break to meet up with some friends for lunch. M&S meal deal, of course. (Hooray because now at least one person who is reading this knows what I'm talking about!)

...learned that one of said friends is fluent in French/half-French. Inexplicably went, "Oh, your name is Chloe!" Which...it is, but Chloe is Greek, so I'm not sure why I had that lightbulb moment. Chloe just sounds kind of French to me. Definitely not Irish, anyway.

...laughed my head off while the others talked about difficulty tanning and one of them said, "I hate when you're lying in the bath and you put your arm against the tub and think, 'Hey, I'm really tan!' And then you get out and realize that you're really not." Oh the Irish and their obsession with getting a little sun.

...went to class and nodded off while sitting right in front of the professor. I figured out it's because the lights are so low in that room all the time. Scribbled nonsensical, falling-asleep notes the whole time that will be of zero use to me when I need to study.

...came back to the library. Am in the library now.

...am excited to see my friend Peyton who is visiting me from Madrid tomorrow.

...am going to be stuck here writing this all night, never mind that I told some (American) friends I'd go out with them tonight and celebrate on our last night with one of the girls, who is leaving this weekend (she's in the other program).

...am seriously sad this essay will not write itself.

...feel a little tempted to put my head down and take a nap right now.

Between the Traffic and the Ordinary Sounds

2009-04-14T23:49:00.006+01:00

Don't know if you've noticed, but my attitude since going abroad has been very much along the lines of "just go with it and see what happens." So when I get invited to stuff, I shrug my shoulders and say, "Why not?" And in general, I try not to turn things down, which leaves for a very full plate but very few regrets...

(Obviously, this doesn't apply to everything. I wouldn't just go with and and see what happens if someone offered me a line of coke. Or shrug my shoulders and say "why not" if a stranger at a bar offered to hold my drink for me while I went to the bathroom. I did watch the safety videos at freshman orientation, you know.)

So when a friend invited me to a board game party/missions fundraiser type deal at her place tonight, I went. I went with some people that I don't know too well, not including one of them. I pulled back into an introspective version of myself as we walked, the version that always comes out when I'm outnumbered by strangers, but it was funny because the one girl I do know was like, "You're awfully quiet tonight." I guess I dropped that version and turned into my gregarious chatterbox self pretty early on in my relationship with her. But anyway, we got to the house in this part of town I've never seen before. And I met new people, learned a new card game, watched an intense game of checkers (or "draughts" as they call it over here; I was made fun of for being a "Yank" when I confessed I'd never heard of "draughts" before), and had a deep conversation about differences in candy names in the US and over here.

(In brief: US Mars Bar = No equivalent. UK Mars Bar = US Milky Way. UK Milky Way = US 3 Musketeers. UK 3 Musketeers = no such thing.)

And then, when it was time to go--I left a little early to catch the Luas--I turned around to say goodbye and there were so many familiar and newly familiar faces waving goodbye at me, and it made me happy to know I'd found a way in with such friendly people. I walked to the Luas and took it home with a new friend, a journey that took a total of forty minutes or something like that. I just met him last Thursday night, but we had a good conversation going, and it was grand.

Don't know if you've noticed, but there's nothing I love quite like a good conversation.

*Oh yeah, previously: "Strawberry Swing," Coldplay.

Greece: Syros

2009-04-13T19:21:00.000+01:00

Okay, this one is going to be a really picture-heavy post because...well, because Syros is gorgeous and when I was scrolling through photos to select some, I kept adding more and more. Sorry.

That disastrous Piraeus day behind us, we woke up bright and early, checked out of the hotel, and made our way to the ferry with plenty of time. These ferries are nice, not at all what I was expecting. More like a little cruise ship. "Economy class" meant we had to hang out in chairs around the cafe area rather than having assigned, reclining seats or even "berths"...the trip took only 4 hours or so, so it wasn't really a big deal and we all managed to configure ourselves so that we could take a nap. This was our claimed area, a hallway between the "airplane seats" and the cafe.

We slept, ate a little, and played cards briefly. Then the ferry started slowing down, the engine rumbling beneath our feet, and outside the window we could see this...

So we got off the ferry, stretched our legs on dry ground and were welcomed by this lovely sight. The island of Syros--more specifically, the capital of Hermepoulis--drenched in sunlight.

random snapshot as we made our way to the hotel

Hermepoulis is pretty small, so it isn't exactly difficult to find your way around. The directions on the hotel's website were pretty weird (at the seventh narrow side street from the clock, turn left), but they made sense once we got there. I should note that the night before, when I was on the phone with the hotel to change our reservation, which we'd booked through the ever reliable hostelworld.com, no one spoke English. After a weird, incomprehensible conversation, I asked the lady, "Do you speak English?" (Pause.) "A little." (Pause.) "Okay, can I speak to someone who does speak English?" (Pause.) "My brother. Mobile number is XXX-XXXX." (Pause). "Seriously? Okay..thank you..." Her brother was equally unhelpful, just exclaiming, "Yes, yes!" after everything I said. Somewhere after his fiftieth "yes" I realized changing our reservation wasn't going to be a problem; they didn't seem to care that we were canceling our first night there. Oh, the Greek way.

Just in front of the hotel--see the "Rooms to Let: Paradise" sign? That's it!

Side note: if you're wondering why I'm standing alone in that picture above, it's because I was perpetually the leader of the pack all week long, and everyone else is behind me--they got a group photo. So while I look like I'm just a total loser, there's a reasonable explanation. It's not just that I walk really fast, although I am guilty of that as well and have to slow down for people on a regular basis. I've mentioned before that I slip into the role of group leader whenever we travel, and it's because of a combination of things; I'm more experienced than my roommates and alternately more laidback (I tend not to freak out about detours or mishaps) and more controlling (by nature). So if no one else steps in, I inevitably take control. While it did give me peace of mind, this had its downsides. Like when things went wrong, I was extra-bummed because I tended to feel responsible. And also, while everyone else was squealing with glee, I was reading street signs to make sure we were going in the right direction. So I missed out on some of the moments of pure "fun." I swear, if I hadn't been there, the others would probably have wandered off into the ocean and not even noticed. I wasn't even the one who made any of the reservations, but the girls who did didn't think to write down the crucial information...like directions. Or an address. (I did.) Haha. But I love them to death and our group dynamic turned out just right, so I can't really complain.

Anyway, we got to our hotel, checked in with the English-limited man at the reception desk (it was kind of the last time we saw anyone there, in fact), and he took us to our rooms. We didn't even try to hide our giddiness at how gorgeous the island was and how lovely our hotel was (and we were paying 11 euro a night each...ridiculous!). I think he picked up on our excitement from all the squealing and giggling, and he ended up switching one of our rooms from a normal 3-bed room to a 4-bed room with a balcony. I don't think the others even noticed the switch, but because I was following him/talking to him, I saw him switch the keys he was originally going to give us for a new set at the last second. It was no big deal for him considering we were, literally, the only guests in the hotel.

Yayyy hotel room!

view from our window, lovely blue skies!

Once we'd more or less settled in, we changed into swimsuits and skirts, determined to make a beach visit no matter what, and we headed back out into the sunshine to grab a bite to eat. We were not, however, prepared for the reaction of the townspeople to our choice in attire. Or our presence on the island in general.

Unlike Santorini and Mykonos, Syros has never been a huge tourist hotspot. And in mid-March, which the Greeks consider to be still "winter," there are pretty much guaranteed to be no tourists around. So in our few days on the island, we were quite literally the only foreigners we encountered. But in addition to being obviously foreign, unlike the Greeks, we dress for the weather, not for the season. It turns out our arrival coincided with the first really warm days of the year, and the "natives" were not yet willing to acknowledge the shift. So while they were walking around dressed like this...

A sneaky picture my roommate took while we were eating lunch...note: FUR. SCARF.

...we were slightly under-dressed for the low-60s temperatures, desperate to feel a little of that unyielding sunshine on our skin. Although "under-dressed" is relative; when the thermometer hits 60 at my New England school, girls pour out of the dorms wearing much the same thing, cotton skirts and knee-length dresses. But anyway, our clothes + our foreignness + leaving our hotel at lunchtime + the fact that it is not socially unacceptable to stare in Greece = an unexpectedly awkward stroll down the promenade in search of a place to eat. The sidewalks were crowded with a lunchtime cafe crowd, and every single head turned to stare at us. Every single one. Some people pointed. Some of them laughed. And one concerned woman with an American accent told us we would catch a cold. Right. It was like 63 degrees. Doubt it.

What could we do? We laughed and chose a cheap cafe around the corner from the waterfront and away from most of the staring crowds.

When we were done eating, we tried to figure out the dodgy bus system that could take us from Hermepoulis to some of the sandy beaches around the island, Galissas being the most popular one and our choice for day one. Of course, it being Greece, the schedules didn't make much sense and the public buses were really weirdly just a random handful of variously colored coach buses. Whatevs. It was maybe a 15 minute bus ride to the beach...and Galissas was beautiful! Plus, we had it more or less to ourselves!

see? beautiful!

some of the girls were crazy enough to go in the water...I went in to my knees, but it was too cold for anything more than that.

but look how sparkly the water was!

high school musical?

Anyway, we ran into a mishap on our way back because apparently the buses don't quite follow their schedules...like at all. The return bus never showed up. We ended up calling cabs, but the island is so tiny it barely cost a thing. And then we had a pretty relaxing evening.

The next day was equally relaxing, and we opted for a new beach adventure, this time picking Azolimnos, even smaller than Galissas.

I'm not actually sure where this picture comes into the sequence of things so I'm just sticking it here. Miaouli Square. Where you can find the town hall and such in Hermepoulis

The weather was slightly dodgier this day, off and on sprinkling us with rain showers. Azolimnos was quite deserted, as well.

We walked around a lot, talking about children's books (gee, how did we get on that topic, I wonder) and sprawling out on the rocky cliff area. We also entertained ourselves for a bit at this playground we found...

We ended up needing to call a cab again to get into town. Haha. But once we got there, we headed back to the hotel to change into warm, dry clothes because we'd gotten a bit damp...and then the girls in my room fell asleep. Ahhh. It was blissful. The other girls had no patience for such laziness and headed out to explore. When we finally awoke, we caught up with them at the church on top of the big hill, a gorgeous, blue-domed building that you could see from the waterfront. Pictures from along the climb:

at the church at last!

and the view from the top.

Our last day we explored the shops, had lunch in the sunny square, walked around a bit...

Settled down by the water to savor a final gelato (more on that later)...

Got on the ferry, and headed back to Athens in the late afternoon.

Hi ferry! Bye Syros!

Greece: The Piraeus Saga

2009-04-13T10:13:00.000+01:00

Get ready, it's long.

The next morning our ferry was supposed to leave at 7:35 AM, so we woke bright and early to leave plenty of time to get to the other side of town--the port of Piraeus. It was dark and rainy, it took us a while to find the right trolley to get to the metro station from our hostel area, and then when we found it...we accidentally got on the wrong side. (Oops.) But it does a big loop, so eventually, we got there. And still had plenty of time.

From the bus...this is my "I'm sleepy, wet, and unappreciative of your photo documentation" face, taken on the trolley.

So we got to the metro and were on our way towards the escalator when this friendly old guy asked us where we are going. I stopped to tell him "Piraeus" while my friend went to the one lone metro station employee--a young-ish man who didn't even stop his phone conversation to answer--where we should go. He pointed down the stairs. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, but now the old guy was telling me that we couldn't take the metro to Piraeus because there was a strike of some sort. Confused, I went to the employee's counter and asked again, "We're going to Piraeus, can we take this line or is there a strike?" He gave me an impatient look and pointed down the stairs again. "So if we want to go to Piraeus, we take the blue line?" I asked, just to make absolutely sure. He pointed again, more forcefully this time. Fiiiine. Maybe the old guy was crazy; he was gone, anyway, so we headed down the stairs and boarded the train.

Everything good so far.

At the next stop, we got off to switch lines to the one that stops in Piraeus and were rushing to find the right platform when...we noticed that the area is taped off. UM WHAT? We were not the only ones confused about this; another woman and an old British guy were also trying to figure out what was going on. Unfortunately, there were no signs--in Greek or English--explaining anything, and there were no employees in the whole echoing station save for a cleaning lady who was able to communicate with us just enough to tell us that the line was canceled and there was no other way to get to Piraeus from there.

Oookay. So then we ended up leaving the station and hailing a cab. But with six of us, we needed two cabs, and it took a while to get two cabs willing to go that way. But we did. We got in the taxis, at this point quite a bit behind schedule--especially because taxis take longer than the metro. To top it all off, the road our drivers were taking to get to Piraeus was inexplicably closed, blocked off by police. So they had to take a detour. And on we went, at this point hopelessly behind schedule.

We finally got to Piraeus, but we missed our ferry. LAME.

Moral of the story: Always listen to the nice old guys. Never listen to the public transport employees, if you can even locate one. And also, just take a cab. It's way cheaper than we thought it would be.

Anyway, the next thing we did was warm up, wake up, and bemoan our fate together in a cafe over pastries and coffee, pondering our next moves and consoling ourselves with lies. It was rainy and cold out, which we tried to pretend was a good thing--we wouldn't have wanted to be on the island in the rain, anyway, right?

at the cafe where we spent a good hour and a half (sorry some of my pictures are fuzzy; I stole low-resolution versions of friends' photos from Facebook)

So once we were sufficiently fed, we headed over to the ferry offices to figure out what to do next. More bad news. Unfortunately, they don't refund tickets, ever--not even if they're the ones to cancel the ferry. And as for our plan to catch the next ferry heading over, the only other ferry operating that day was in the late afternoon, and--wait for it--canceled. So we were stuck until the next morning.

at the ferry office...

At this point we could've just taken a bus into the main city and done more sightseeing or something, but the weather was miserable, we were dejected, and we had very little faith in public transportation in general. Instead, we wandered the city for a solid two hours asking about a mythical internet cafe so we could change our hotel reservations on Syros, but there were none (we actually encountered about 5, but none of them were open). Finally, sick of wandering in the rain in this depressing, shut down, slightly smelly little port town, we decided to check into a hotel so we could get dry and also ensure there'd be no way to miss our ferry the next morning. After negotiating for a pretty great rate (it was off-season and Piraeus isn't exactly a resort town to begin with), we all promptly fell into our beds for a nap.

I was a bit too wired from worry to sleep much, so I read and then took this creepy picture.

In the afternoon, the sun emerged for a short while and we headed back outside, trying to make the best of it. We found some pretty sights around Piraeus and...more importantly...located a Zara. And proceeded to engage in some retail therapy.

If only the weather had been like this the whole day...we probably wouldn't have hated Piraeus so much

we got our thrills where we could. like by riding the elevator in zara several times and trying to have dance parties without being seen (the doors were glass).

When we were done there, we decided to go on a search for some good fruity drinks to unwind after a long, weird day. We headed to a pub listed in the guidebook, but were greeted by a young guy and an old woman sitting alone at a big table who told us the pub was closed for a private party; they recommended another bar not too far away. We went there and found a satisfyingly extensive drink menu, only to be told (after we'd taken a seat) that there were no cocktails available today. After a pause, the proprietor added, "...or tomorrow." As if he were afraid we'd return with the same request the next day. Ha. We ordered a drink each anyway (I had a sangria, which was yum if a bit too sweet), then headed out to find some cheap food in the direction of our hotel.

Only there was nothing. At least nothing simultaneously open and in our price range. And when the downpour began again and we were halfway soaked without umbrellas and starving to death, we hit our low point. And headed into the first cheap, well-lit establishment we could find. Which happened to be a McDonald's. And proceeded to unwind there, watching MTV on mute and absorbing greasy fries into our poor, tired, cold, wet bodies.

All in all, the day had turned out a bit like this kid's. What could go wrong, did go wrong. But at least we knew our trip couldn't really get worse, we'd had a lot of laughs (some of them crazed, desperate, kill-me-now laughs, but still), and we had something to talk about for the rest of the week. You just had to mention "Piraeus" and the rest of us would burst into laughter. And the next day we headed out early, yet again, to walk to the ferry...

Bye, Piraeus hotel!

Greece: Athens (Day One)

2009-04-12T16:18:00.000+01:00

Happy Easter, everyone! Went to church this morning, and my roommate's mom is visiting and making us a big Easter dinner so you can bet I'm excited. She also gave us these adorable Easter "baskets" (actually gift bags because she couldn't exactly pack a bunch of baskets in her suitcase). With Peeps and jelly beans and chocolate bunnies and all the good stuff. Yummm.

Anyway, I'm finally going to put up my Greece recaps. And in several parts, so bear with me, yes? Here we go.

---

There were six of us on the trip: me, my two roommates (Makala, Becca), two other American study abroad students we've met through class (Liz, Paula), and my friend Alicia, from home. She was originally planning on visiting me in Ireland, but we only had one overlapping week of break, and I was scheduled to go to Greece then. So...she decided to join us!! It was pretty much amazing. We spent our first and last full days in Athens, natch. What to say about this city? It felt like a series of contradictions. Noisy and pushy, but closes down at like 2 in the afternoon. Strangers are so eager-to-help friendly, but public workers can be quite surly. Crossing the street is on the dangerous side, and drivers have no regard for the human pedestrian...but stray dogs wander the city a dime a dozen, well-fed and often friendly (but sometimes CREEPY). The city's in development, with new and imperfect infrastructures going up all the time, and yet it's also painstakingly maintaining its ancient ruins. You look up, you see the Acropolis. You look down, you see litter. No big deal. It's worth noting, as well, that Athens did a significant revamp just before it hosted the Olympics in 2004. Honestly, I kind of shudder to think what the public transportation was like before then. But more on that later.

we passed the National Gardens on our way through the city

the Temple of the Olympian Zeus; for some reason I decided that I should allow a large tree to obscure the actual ruins

Anyway, I had to duck out about halfway through our first day to meet Alicia at the airport--at first I was going to suggest she find her way to the hostel on her own, but seeing as how it took 6 of us like fifty hours to do it the night before thanks to the mess that is known as the public transportation system in Athens and the particularly laidback way Greeks offer "directions," I thought it would be safer to do it this way. The rest of the group threatened to curl up into fetal position by the side of the road without me bossing and navigating and controlling the map, but I shoved one of my three maps into their hands and secretly hoped one of them would discover a hidden talent for navigation and take over the job for me (they didn't).

this is where we parted ways; just in front of the Acropolis

After a giddy reunion with Alicia at the airport, we journeyed back to the hostel to drop her stuff off and met up with the group in Syntagma Square, in front of Parliament, and after people-watching there for a bit we decided it was time to go find some dinner. We ended up at this organic, attractively decorated place called Bliss.

Here we are at Bliss before things turned decidedly, well, not blissful

So anyway, Bliss was a dud. The service was painfully slow...but it would have been one thing if it was painfully slow for all of us. Instead, by the time our sixth girl's salad came out, the rest of us had been done eating for some time. Another girl suddenly started feeling ill, which we attributed to low blood sugar, but our requested glass of orange juice (which I'd demanded kindly but with a warning in my voice--"My friend is not feeling well"--that elicited a flurry of worried eyes and concerned questions from the waiter) took about 20 minutes to arrive and cost 5 euro. Not cool. Plus, the food was okay, not great.

We made up for that disaster by going to a gelato place, and straight from the gelato place to a little cafe owned by an adorable old man for some baked goods. The only other patrons in the establishment were a handful of sullen-faced, chain-smoking mobster types who sat in the back of the room in silence, watching a subtitled Troy on the television mounted on the wall.

And thus ended our first day in Greece...

I Can't Wait Till the Morning, Wouldn't Want to Change a Thing

2009-04-10T01:14:00.009+01:00

I know. I know. Another week has gone by, and still no Greece posts. I can't help it! I've been really busy, and I've had a varied, random, fun week. And I've come home at 11:30 PM or later three nights in a row. Here's the rundown.

Monday: classes, etc. Realized that the paper I thought was due Tuesday was actually due Monday. Oops. (It was a rescheduled deadline, so I wasn't the only one confused). When classes were over, worked on the paper for a while in the computer lab. Then went to the gym for another body balance class, only I confused the timetable and ended up at a random yoga class. Went home and finished paper.

Tuesday: Went in to volunteer. Things a bit chaotic because 1.) my NGO is in the middle of working out a merger and 2.) the main intern is leaving next week, and while there's another one coming in to replace her soon, I'm sort of holding down the fort, so to speak. Went to a make-up class during lunch break. Came back. Then things got interesting...everyone was going out to a big staff dinner and convinced me I should come along...rather than go to class. Haha. We went to a cute Italian place down the street (on the company's tab, woohoo) and I socialized with my "coworkers" over pasta and dinner wine. Fun. Okay, here's where things got actually interesting. We were there for hours, and when things finally broke up I was standing outside the restaurant texting someone when one of the staff members, A, persuaded me and K, the intern, to stick around for another bottle of wine to hang out a bit. So the three of us plus a senior staff member, C, ended up spending the rest of the evening together. It was almost surreal--we are all so different--a Swede, an American, two Irishwomen, two mothers, two students--right down to our age span (C is at least my mother's age, A is in her thirties, K is in her late twenties). I can't really imagine any other circumstance that would bring four people like us together. But there we were, chatting around a table over many a glass of wine (perhaps one too many) until it was so late that I almost missed the last Luas home. The older women wanted me to just share a cab with them, and I had to convince them I'd be fine getting home on my own and then text one of them when I was on the tram. I got home and collapsed into bed.

Wednesday: I woke up bright and early to head back to the NGO. It was funny, because when I got there I felt like some layer of ice had been broken and I was part of the club now. The other women joked around with me, and I got a lot of work done for K's departure. At 4:00, I left to go to an evaluation meeting at IES. From there I went straight back to Trinity for a real body balance class this time. It was really good. And then I went to meet my flatmate at a swing club where we tried out a swing lesson (her second time, my first) and hung around afterward when things opened up to just dancing. It was really fun, but the weirdest part of the evening was meeting My New Best Friend. It's kind of a long story, but he was...a character, and somehow latched onto me and ended up telling me his whole life story. And then asked me for my number when I left, which I laughingly turned down because 1.) I think he just asked out of habit and 2.) I didn't even think he would remember the whole encounter the next morning because he'd had quite a bit to drink (and was one of the only ones in the room who had; swing clubs are pretty sober places as a rule. He was only there because a friend dragged him along, but he kept commenting on the numerous pints of water everywhere). He didn't seem to mind the rejection, and I did give him a big hug before leaving--he really needed it. Talking to him made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Thursday: I went to class, ate lunch with my flatmate, more class, and then after a really great guest lecture on translating the Septuagint--it sounds boring but was actually fantastic--I hung around the chaplaincy, where you can get free tea and coffee, with buddies E and G (see previous post). We had a nice chat over tea, and then we headed over to the CU's Easter service. It was a low-key affair, and when it was all over a large group of us migrated to the Pav, the campus pub, to hang out. Only it was really crowded, so someone decided we should go to a pub just off campus instead. There were a lot of us, though, and coordinating the group took some time, and we ended up at some random pub that was equally crowded. By the time we got there, the group had been reduced in size, but after hanging around a bit with no place to put our stuff, a bunch of us realized we hadn't had dinner and were starving. So we peaced out and headed to the very large McDonald's on Grafton St. We hung out there until it was time to go home. I had so much fun, though! It was a warm, happy night, with a great group of people. Plus, I got to see some of my small group friends after two weeks of separation. I'm really sad I won't get to hang around with them for much longer.

One thing that occurred to me on the way home, though, was that I have been taking lots of mental snapshots. Sometimes I really want to take real pictures of these moments, because I would so like to keep a piece of them alive and warm. And I know such moments are numbered. These are transient groups of friends. One time deal experiences. But whipping out a camera is not often an option, because hello, annoying camera girl, and I'd rather be living these moments than worrying about documenting them. Plus, it only goes to emphasize for me that while everyone else is having a normal night out, I'm counting down till they're done. Mental snapshots don't last as long, but if I close my eyes for a second and concentrate, I can bury the echoes of that tipsy, mistaken identity phone conversation or silly obsession with my Happy Meal toy or surprise hug somewhere in my mind. And I know they'll eventually fade from memory. I know. But that makes it easier to treasure them while I still can.

On the other hand, I do try to keep my camera charged and in my bag, because you never know when you'll be walking home from the gym and see the sun setting just right over your really old campus. Apologies for the slight crookedness; I'm a snap-as-you-walk kinda girl so I rarely get a chance to properly align my subject.

Previously: Duh. It's a classic line from the classic SNL digital short, "Lazy Sunday." The best line of which is definitely "You can call us Aaron Burr from the way we're droppin Hamiltons." Or maybe that's just me.

Lazy Sunday, Wake Up in the Late Afternoon

2009-04-05T17:08:00.003+01:00

Hi everyone. This is me checking in again. This weekend has been super-low key, but I've been enjoying it. The month of March was such a blur of Scotland→essays→Sofia and Janet→Greece. And when I got back from Greece, I went to a ball and spent the rest of the weekend madly typing away at more essays. Then, from the minute I handed them in, I had a full week of classes and volunteering and a few experimental attempts to get some exercise. By the time Saturday rolled around, I was ready to sleep in (which I did) and spend the majority of the day sitting in bed with a book (which I did).

Similar pattern today, although I'm going to head to church in a bit. And I also have yet another essay to work on. I'm not planning on working very hard, though. Because, again, grades don't matter and don't factor into my GPA at all. Also, I'm feeling pretty confident in the standard of my work here. I was pleasantly surprised the other day when I went to pick up an essay I'd turned in for my Kingship in Israel class and discovered that I'd somehow earned a very high mark. Very. The grading system is different here and complicated, but the Irish girl who got her paper back at the same time told me she'd never seen anyone get a number that high before. (I will add that an American friend of mine who was with us got an even higher mark--which makes sense because he's a genius in that class. And planning on doing postgrad work in Near Eastern/Judaic Studies.) Anyway, I hadn't exactly considered this essay to be my best work, or even one that I worked very diligently on. I sort of scrabbled some research together, wrote some linking sentences, and barely even proofread it. But I'm not complaining.

What else? Oh. So I lose my housing here the day after my last exam, which happens to be May 27. (Exam schedules finally published.) So I technically have to leave on May 28. But my friend Aisling has super graciously extended an invitation for me to hang around her house after exams are over if I want to stay in Ireland a bit longer, which I really, really do. As long as possible, in fact. And I also don't relish the idea of rushing off to leave after a period of straight studying, so I'd appreciate a chance to de-stress and say a proper goodbye to the city. Therefore, I might take her up on that offer once I figure out my summer.

No idea about the summer, still. Am working on it.

Hmm. what else? On Thursday, after my 5-6 class, I ended up hanging out for an hour in St. Stephen's Green with three theology buddies--the aforementioned A, Emma, and Geoff--just...sitting. Enjoying the brilliant weather. (It turned out we weren't allowed to sit on the grass, but the Green is too classy to put up a sign saying so, so instead they have this guy who walks around periodically asking people to move. Seems it would be a lot easier to stick a sign up, though.) We talked about dancing and animals that correspond to our names and Calvinism. And I laughed a lot because E and G are some of the funniest people I've ever met. Actually, I've made a few oblique references to them before, and chances are that if any post mentions hanging around with classmates after lectures, it's them. Anyway.

I turned around from where we were sitting to take this picture...

And then the other way to take this one. (L to R: A, G, E.)

Afterwards, we parted ways and went home. I walked straight from my Luas stop to a theatre nearby where I was meeting up with my program's RAs for an RA event, which was a play by a local amateur company. Only one other girl showed up. And I only showed up because I committed the night before when I ran into one of the RAs at the gym. Haha. The play was very long and kind of mediocre. But still entertaining.

Hmm. In general the weather's been so lovely, the skies staying lit until startlingly late. It rained on Friday, but it wasn't so horrible, especially because it had been so nice the whole week. I went in to volunteer from 10-5, and on my way home I ducked into a bookstore to wait for the rains to calm a little. (Fine, it was really because I hadn't been in for a while and missed it. Didn't buy anything, though.) So even the rain couldn't bring me down.

I scribbled this earlier in the week, though, so here:

Further things that I love about Summer Time (okay, mild spring days in Dublin):

Businessmen eating ice cream as they walk down the street and talk on their Bluetooths (Blueteeth?). Businessmen sitting in a circle on the grass at the park eating lunch. Pretty much anything that involves men in suits engaging in activities that make them look 5. All the young, talented buskers lining Grafton Street with their guitars. Oh, and...bubbles? I was walking down the street and there were bubbles everywhere.

See them?

Okay, I'm going to heat up some leftover tuna casserole from my dinner last night, contemplate working on my essay, edit my first Greece post and load some pictures, and then go to church.

Oh yeah, and here's my claddagh ring. Macro setting on the point and shoot. I've said this before, but it really makes me miss f-stops and aperture.

New Girl(s) In Town: Recapping a Visit

2009-04-04T00:05:00.000+01:00

Hi again!

I want to tell you about Greece, but that will (I suspect) be several long posts. But before I get there, anyway, I have to recap the lovely visit of my amigas Sofia and Janet. Ready? And go!

***

I met the two of them at the airport, where we hugged and shrieked and jumped excitedly, and then I was all business, because we had a long journey ahead of us. We took the neverending route from the airport to my apartment, which involves a long bus ride, a walk through town to the Luas, a Luas ride, and then an uphill walk to my apartment, and with large suitcases, it was...an adventure. But after they unloaded their stuff and showered, the three of us plus one of my roommates headed back into town to check out the "Funfair" at Merrion Square, part of the St. Patrick's (Week) Festival. It was pretty much a small block filled with expensive carnival rides, semi-disappointing. We shelled out too much money for a round on the Ferris Wheel, though, which was fun.

It was a bit windy up there...

Then we had dinner and headed back to the flat to catch up. The next morning, we woke bright and early to pack up and head to the bus station. The bus to Enniskerry took under an hour, to my happy surprise. The weather was gorgeous and the bed and breakfast a dream.

That lovely white house with the red door is Ferndale, the B&B.

Once we'd settled into the B&B, we headed to Powerscourt, pretty much the only thing to do or see in Enniskerry unless you want to go on a long hike through the Wicklow mountains, which I'd love to do, but was not part of our agenda. Powerscourt is an estate that has existed in some form since medieval times, and the village of Enniskerry was actually built to supplement it. It has amazing gardens out back, which you have to pay to enter, but are really pretty--and probably even prettier in early summer when everything's in full bloom. There were loads of vans and TV crews setting stuff up the whole day, though...and it turned out that was because The Today Show was filming from there the next day as part of its St Patrick's Day segment! Pretty neat.

From inside one of the rooms at Powerscourt

A gate in the garden

Flowers from when we were just relaxing on the grass

Not entirely sure.

We came back to the village in the afternoon, took a nap, and relaxed all night, venturing out for a light dinner, then returning to our room for tea and some Irish television...the all-Ireland talent show was on, and being filmed not too far from where we were.

The next morning we had a full Irish breakfast, black (aka blood) and white pudding and all. Then we took a bus out to Bray. The bus driver was not our friend. :( He was pretty rude, but the only Dublin bus driver I've encountered that way, so he was an exception to the rule. Anyway, Bray's a fun coastal town, and the weather was amazing yet again, so we walked around, sat on the rocky beach, sat on a grassy cliff, bought some ice cream, and had some long conversations.

In the evening we came back, took another nap, went to dinner at an Italian place, then went to our room and did girly things like playing around with our makeup and curling iron, facial masks, and mineral baths for our feet. More heart-to-heart conversations.

The next morning we had another big Irish breakfast and reluctantly said goodbye to the B&B and its awesome owners, a sweet old couple. We returned to my apartment where we met up with my roommates and a few other friends and then headed into town to catch the St. Patrick's Day parade. It was crazy. It was crowded. A very large bear tried to get on the Luas but failed. Okay, a very large teddy bear. ...Okay, a man (?) in a very large teddy bear costume. But he was creepy nonetheless. Anyway, we got into the city centre, couldn't see a thing, etc, etc.

After the parade, we went to a hurling match and a Gaelic football match at Croke Park. Gaelic football was my favorite.

The next day we dropped off their stuff at their hostel and spent the rest of the day in the city, eating a picnic lunch at the park (Janet did not appreciate the pigeons, though), going shopping at some of my fave places (market arcade, charity shops, PENNEYS). We also hit up the Dublin Castle for a tour.

Picnic!

A lamp in the castle

Then, when evening hit, we finally made our way to a sketch little Korean restaurant in a sketch little area of town for dinner. Hooray! It was an owned-by-Korean, run-by-Chinese sort of establishment, so the staff did not understand us and the rice was very dry. But other than that, it was pretty decent, all things considered.

After another loong meal with a looong conversation, we reluctantly parted ways...I left them to find their hostel...

And then I went to Greece.

P.S. While we were watching TV, we saw this commercial, which not only inspired us to buy some of the candy, it also rather inexplicably had us cracking up all weekend. And when you watch it, the phrase "bring on the trumpets" gets stuck in your head like a catchy jingle. Effective ad, I'd say.

Scotland!

2009-03-30T23:35:00.000+01:00

At long last.

Sooo Scotland! We flew in on a Saturday night because the tickets were much cheaper that way, even factoring in the cost of one night at the hostel. We checked into our hostel and then headed out to find something to do in an attempt to...not be boring people. We ended up at a really cheap bar filled with students and travelers, and it was an interesting adventure?

Anyway, on Sunday we had a pre-ordered bus tour to Loch Ness and the highlands booked, because our friends who went earlier had warned us that they book up fast, and also because we figured it was a safer bet to leave Monday for exploring the city in terms of stuff being open. So we did it online before we got there. Only when we got there, we woke up to...snow. Just a sprinkling, but enough to cover the tops of cars. Ominous, but what could we do? We crossed our fingers, hoped the weather would get better, and got on the bus.

I have to say, the bus tour we used was excellent. The "bus" was a small 16-seater, but there were only maybe 10 or 11 of us there. Our tour guide was this awesome dude named Mac who wore a kilt all the time, traveled the world doing crazy things, and told us during a coffee break that he was still new enough at the job (I think nine months but I might have made that up) for it to be interesting. He knew his history backwards and forwards and was an excellent story teller. Plus, he had an adorable baby boy whose picture he showed us on his phone.

This is our tour guide, kilt blowing in the wind.

But speaking of wind, the crazy weather did not, in fact, let up. It was alternately snowing, hailing, and raining pretty much all day long. That meant...it was freezing and windy, the skies were gray, and the mountains covered in snow. Not exactly the picturesque highlands I was expecting, but picturesque in their own way, I guess.

Unfortunately, that also meant roads were closed, so our return journey, rather than looping around the country, was the same as our journey there. But one thing I inherited from my mother is the tendency to fall asleep in moving vehicles, so it's not like I really noticed the difference. I did try to stay awake though, because I got to hear so many great, mostly historical stories along the way.

Oh, and we did get to Loch Ness, but it was a little harder to appreciate when the rain was pelting my face and I could barely see anything. So no Nessie sightings this time, anyway.

We got back in time for dinner at a good, relatively inexpensive Mexican restaurant, and the weather was a touch milder in the city at that point, so we decided to go for the ghost tour. It takes you around "haunted," creepy, and morbid sites around Edinburgh and leads you to a "free" (I mean you have to pay for the tour) pint in the end. It was a cold and very windy night, but we trucked onwards and had a pretty entertaining time.

A statue of Abraham Lincoln in one of the cemeteries we visited. Random! But not really. It was to commemorate Scottish-American soldiers in the American Civil War.

The next morning's weather was significantly better than the day before, so we headed out to meet the free walking tour done by the same company as the ghost tour and the tour we did in London. I'm a fan of them. Here are some random pictures from the day.

Greyfriars Kirkyard

The so-called most photographed statue in the city...is of a dog. But a cute one, and one with a great story!

This is the beautiful Edinburgh Castle, which appears to grow out of the rocky mountainside...

And this is the view from said castle.

Another random shot from our tour...

Well done, Sir Simpson! Go you!

As a final note, if I had to compare Scotland and Ireland from my really brief encounter with it, especially in terms of the countryside, I'd say Scotland feels more historical where Ireland feels more mythical. I can't really explain that statement in depth because I'm bored of this post, but it's something I thought about at several points during the trip.

Want more photos? I'm lazy, so I'm just going to post my public Facebook album...which can be found here!

Summer Time

2009-03-30T18:57:00.007+01:00

Previously: "Beaming," by Relient K. True story: the rest of the lyrics go "everyone was beaming/everyone everywhere/and Scotty did lots of the work."

Guess what guys? We switched to Daylight Savings, too, so we're back to a five instead of four hour difference. Only here, instead of calling it "Daylight Savings Time," they call it "Summer Time." There is a lot that is very interesting about that difference, including the fact that their children probably don't grow up thinking it's "Daylight's Savings Time" because of the multiple "s's." Although, you have to admit, the idea of daylight having savings stored up somewhere is pretty intriguing. Anyway, the other interesting thing about it is that it makes it sound like they're saying "summertime." I got an email that said "don't forget Summer Time starts on Sunday." And I was very confused. Until I read the part about losing an hour. And then I was just mad.

It's amazing what an hour can do, though. The extra sunlight is throwing me off my game. Also, walking home today from school (my first day of class in 3 weeks, whoa!), I swear the air smelled like summer. You know what I mean...summer has a distinctive smell, and this evening smelled like it.

Summer Time is magical.

I got so much done today, too. You'd be proud. I went to class. I ate a quick lunch in the Arts Building with my laptop out so I could work on my essays as I ate. But instead I ran into (or rather, I was run into by, but that just sounds all wrong) a friend from class and we chatted about our breaks. (He was also in Greece, but we had pretty different itineraries.) Then I went to the library and finished both essays, which were not my finest work, and got them printed, an ordeal in itself, and turned them in at 3:59 PM. The strict deadline was 4:00 PM. I'm a master of last-minute work, as you can see.

Then I went to the gym for the first time since I attended the gym orientation at the beginning of the semester. But I didn't work out. I seriously abhor working out at the gym, although I'm very jealous of people who enjoy it. I just activated my card and signed up to try a few fitness classes this week. You have to pay when you book them, which I figured would keep me from flaking out because I'm a cheapie.

On my way home, I stopped in at Boots for some toiletries, Marks and Spencer for some groceries, and the O2 store to top up my phone, because it wasn't working online. So now I have moisturizer on my bedside table, hummus in the fridge, and minutes on my cell.

And....now I'm going to post about Scotland.

I Said Whoa, You Know We're Beaming

2009-03-28T20:15:00.010Z

Hello friends!

I haven't forgotten you. Or the fact that I'm supposed to update this blog.

But I've been holding off because updating means long entries [which means carefully combing over my memory] + pictures [which means...lots of time]. And I am trying to avoid sucking too much of my time away from my essays because...ugh, I don't even know why. I mean, I should be writing them at this very moment, seeing as how they are due on Monday. But it is really, really, really slow going, mostly because my motivation seems to have gone on an extended vacation. Maybe tomorrow it will kick into panic gear? Except tomorrow, it will be too late. I really need to get at least one of them totally done by tonight.

Anyway, instead of papers, I'll put up a brief post and maybe a few pictures to ease my guilt from both directions--my guilt for not doing this in a more timely fashion when I find all these other ways to distract myself anyway, and my guilt for not getting my work done right now.

First of all, Greece was ah-ma-zing. But it was also an intense, at times really stressful adventure with lots of mishaps and "maybe this will make for a great story later" moments. Let's just say there was one crucial day when even our attempt to drink all our troubles away failed and we somehow ended up at a McDonald's, soaked, delayed, exhausted, laughing hysterically and unable to wipe the lingering "wtf" expressions from our faces after a long, long day of wtf moments. [And yes, in my head I'm spelling out the letters, because I'm cool like that and use internet abbreviations in everyday life. nbd.]

But more on that later! Some teaser pictures of what will come when I get my act together and get actual posts written.

A random shot of the Scottish highlands. Hint, hint: it SNOWED while we were there. And hailed. And was generally the worst weather the area had seen in like a year. And roads were closed. But the day trip was somehow redeemed by how beautiful the highlands were anyway.

Random but beautiful rainbow in Edinburgh. I saw another one--a full arch with two ends--in Athens. A bounty of rainbows in my life of late. If I were a better Christian, I would have made some spiritual connection about God's promises in my life, but I just thought of that now. Haha oops.

A tea party on the floor of our bed and breakfast room in Enniskerry. Irish black tea, cupcakes, and a wedding magazine...I mean, does it get any better?

A view of the delightful island of Syros from my walk up the hill to the gorgeous church at the top. Syros is a gem, and I would definitely return there...maybe even over some of the other, more touristy options.

One of two pictures I have of myself from the trip (but don't worry, the others have plenty and I'll steal them when they post their pictures). This is me with my awesome possum friend Alicia, who came all the way from America just to hang out with me for a week. And, okay, to visit Greece. This picture is from the morning of Greek Independence Day, while we were waiting for the parade to start...and well before the crowds got crazy, pushy, and aggressive.

Oh, and one last picture. From last night's CU ball! With two girls from my small group, Denise (left) and Emma (middle). D let me crash her dorm (only they call them "halls" here) to get ready with her and also sleep over for the night. E was one of the organizers of the whole thing. And that piece of hair on my forehead...was my companion for the whole night, if the pictures are any indication. I had no idea it was there. The little OCD piece of my brain is bothered by this, but the rest of me thinks it is kind of hilarious. Oh, and Em is wearing a top hat because we were supposed to have a "wacky" accessory. I had a bright red flower in my hair, but it's on the side of my head that you can't see here.

That was fun...and now onto essays. AGAIN.

Oh yeah. Previously (two posts ago), the one about walls: Mat Kearney, "Renaissance." I am going to insert here that I've never really understood that line. At all.

Oh wait, one last thing. I've been a bit slow on the uptake about new Facebook because I haven't been on very much lately, but WHAT HAPPENED TO WALL-TO-WALL? That was like...the best part of new Facebook several versions ago. Am I missing something? Is it really gone? And why does Facebook want to be Twitter? Silent tear.

Of Love and Laughter

2009-03-18T00:44:00.000Z

I'm interrupting my catchup to tell you what's up now. A Scotland post is on its way but will likely be delayed at least a week unless I suffer from some insomnia tomorrow night and find a spare minute to do it then. What follows was typed up Monday night.

My lovely friends Sofia and Janet have been here since Saturday afternoon. I met them at the airport, brought them to my apartment to drop off their stuff, and we spent the evening in the city. Sunday morning we packed up and caught a bus to Enniskerry, a small town in Wicklow County where we had a two night reservation at a lovely bed and breakfast. Enniskerry, if you're interested, is the hometown of Gerard Butler's character in P.S. I Love You. It's very picturesque and the weather was beyond perfect for the two days we stayed there.

I will recap our itinerary later on when I get my photos uploaded and am back on track, but I will just tell you for now that I've had a very relaxed, fun time. We've eaten a full Irish breakfast, wandered through gorgeous gardens, sat on a rocky beach picking out pretty stones, had a therapeutic talk session sitting on a grassy cliff, shared Italian food and white wine, soaked our feet in a mineral bath and chatted over face masks...and laughed a LOT. Which all sounds terribly cliche, and maybe it is, but it's so exactly what I've needed. The only thing missing from this whole deal was a certain girl whose name starts with an F and ends with an ence. She knows who she is.

Happy last few hours of St. Patrick's Day to those of you in the States.

I Can Be the Wall When You Fall Down: Northern Ireland

2009-03-16T23:03:00.000Z

Previously: a line from "Sensible Heart" by City and Colour.

[I typed this up earlier but had problems with the pictures so it's like a week old, sorry.]

I'm backtracking.

I don't know if you guys have heard, but some crazy stuff has been going down in Northern Ireland in the last few days, which tells you that peace is fragile. But people are rallying together against violence, which tells you that peace is resilient. In any case, travel warnings are up about making trips up there right now, which makes it feel particularly crazy that I was just there a week and a half ago.

But I didn't spend much time in Belfast. The trip was arranged by my study abroad org, so I took a train up on Thursday morning with my roommates, some other friends, and a lot of kids I don't really know because they are in the general studies program, not at Trinity. There was a group of six of us who hung out together all weekend, and it was just a really fun time, thanks to them. We arrived in Belfast around noon and had lunch at a local restaurant. After that, we took a black cab tour of the city, which involves very informed drivers taking you to key Troubles spots in both the Catholic and Protestant sides of the city.

When the tour was over, we drove to Port Rush, a small coastal town that is apparently hopping in the summertime but was pretty much a dud since it was off-season. We spent the evening there, and there was literally nothing to do. My friends and I ended up chatting in one of our hotel rooms until bedtime after an unsuccessful hunt for a sign of nightlife involving people younger than 30. Pretty, though, right?

Friday we visited the Bushmills whiskey distillery where we got a tour of the factory (actually interesting) and a free drink at the end. I opted not to get a straight shot of whiskey because, gross, and instead ordered a miniature hot toddy, which, yum. Whiskey mixed with hot water, lemon, cloves, and sugar. Much more palatable and instantly warming. The perfect drink for a cold, wet winter day.

Then we went to Giant's Causeway in the afternoon, which was pretty much unbelievable. I have never seen anything like it in nature before--these crazy interlocking columns of rock. Very cool.

Finally, we visited Dunluce Castle just as the sun was setting, which felt like the perfect time to see it.

Saturday we went to the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge, which was much sturdier than expected, but I guess when you set something up to be a tourist attraction, you don't really want it to be a death trap.

The end. I haven't loaded all my pictures onto Picasa yet, but soon.

But Desperate Times Seem Over Now

2009-03-05T23:19:00.006Z

So I was complaining to a friend in class today about the library thing? And she went, "Ten is late! I've never been in the library that late!" After I picked my jaw up off the floor, she helpfully mused that the reason the libraries were never open that late was probably that Irish students wouldn't study then even if they could, as those are drinking hours. Oh, of course.

Today was more or less my last day of the term, because I don't have class on Fridays. And now my three-week break commences! No class till March 30. My favorite professor was like, "See you in April, email me if you're feeling lonely or something but don't email me too much because I'm getting married next week and won't exactly be responding." At which point all the girls in the room kind of sighed and started clapping. Okay, I will admit that I started the clapping. But the rest of the class joined in.

And then I went to the library and got some stuff done...and then I went to the last CU main meeting of the year. It's kind of weird, but they treat the end of Hilary term as the end of the year altogether. [A refresher--this is the last year we'll follow the English system, but the terms go like this: Michaelmas (9 weeks), Hilary (9 weeks), Trinity (5 weeks).] So even though we have a few more weeks of class when we get back, I guess it doesn't feel as legit.

After the large group meeting we did the whole tea and biscuits thing, and when people started leaving, it was like actual goodbyes. Because we might not see each other until next month. And there was a lot of phone number exchanging (for me) and I'll-text-you-maybe-we-can-hang-out-during-break's that will most likely go unfulfilled because I won't much be here, and when I am, I'll be...essaying it up. But as bittersweet as it was to realize that all my travel plans meant a sacrifice of hangout time with new friends (primarily my fellow small group girls), it was also reassuring just to know I had new friends at all. But seriously, how strange to feel like I'm just settling in and we're hugging and saying goodbye.

Okay, anecdote of vindication. Before I joined my current Tuesday small group (now over!! although unofficial ones might meet next term), I visited the Wednesday one. I had to switch groups because I started taking that dance class. But that Wednesday, we played a getting-to-know-you game that involved passing a cup with random questions in it around. This was in late January. Tonight, I got into conversation with a friend and a guy who was in that other small group, and when we reintroduced ourselves, the first thing he said to me was, "You're afraid of cars!" That was one of the fun facts I'd apparently shared about myself that night. But when my friend asked for clarification, I told her about my driving issues and how I get involuntary chills when cars pass too close to me. I'm not kidding about that part, and it's totally embarrassing. When I'm about to cross a street or if I'm on the outside edge of a sidewalk and a vehicle whizzes by, I tremble. Watch out for it sometime. But anyway, at this point of the explanation, my friend said, "ME, TOO!"

I am not alone.

Also: this break is called "Easter holidays" regardless of the fact that Easter is in April. I think that is very strange.

Final note: You know how I said earlier that I would use random, irrelevant song lyrics when I couldn't think of a post title? I kind of like this game. I've generally just used a line from whatever song is playing on iTunes (or last.fm) at the moment. Hence Kermit the Frog and The Lion King both made an appearance in the last few posts. But I feel fairly confident no one is going to get this one without looking it up. It's totally vague and a tiny bit obscure.

It Ain't No Passing Craze

2009-03-04T23:13:00.001Z

[Tangentially related post title is from where?]

So you know how I complain about how fast time is going by. I'M NOT KIDDING. It drives me nuts! I'm going to Edinburgh this weekend. The following weekend Sofia and Janet are coming to see me. Then I am leaving for Greece. Then I am attending a ball that requires formalwear I do not have (don't get overexcited, "ball" is just a fancy word for formal partay around these parts). Then all my schoolwork is due. Then the next term begins. And I travel to Spain and Italy. And my friend Peyton comes to see me. And then I start exams. And then I--? Come home?

I realized I've had to make some prioritizing decisions in terms of my schoolwork, and it looks like I'm deciding that my non-school experiences are more important to me. In other words, I have massive amounts of paper-writing to do in the next month and a total of perhaps 5 free days to do them. I am either traveling or volunteering or frolicking for the rest of the month (my break starts next week and lasts till the end of March, but I also have major assessments to complete during this time).

Normally this would freak me out. And like, normally, at home, I would have decided to spend today in the library researching my paper and sacrificing my other endeavors for the sake of that task. But I didn't. I went into the office (where I volunteer) as planned and got some satisfying work done there. I met with the director to discuss my future research-y tasks, which I'm excited about (mostly about social integration and anti-racism). Then I went with Karin, the intern who basically does everything, from menial administrative tasks to taking on clients, to the outreach clinic where she was filling in for someone else. This clinic was a little far out there, so we had a nice long bus ride to get to know each other. She is very cool and Swedish and insanely well-traveled with all sorts of random experiences under her belt. And she was very surprised to learn that I am only 20 because I apparently carry myself with great aplomb. She didn't actually say that. She said I just seemed like I knew what I was doing from the beginning. Sahweet. Then at the clinic, I basically took notes and filled out the info sheets while Karin talked to the clients. This worked out well because her handwriting is very, shall we say, medical, and these notes must eventually be entered into a computer database, perhaps by me. Anyway I learned a lot about the intricacies of Irish immigration law just from these 2.5 hours, and I got to hear some incredibly heartbreaking and strange stories. That was what struck me the most--how much this time was about hearing people's stories.

It was exhausting, and when we got back to the city centre I met up with my roommate and we went straight to dance class, because it takes about a half hour to walk to the studio. And then I came home.

So, no schoolwork got done today. But I'm okay with that. More than okay with it. I actually kind of wish I could spend more time at my volunteer place. I really like the people, I like that even my gruntwork is challenging (like I've been assigned the task of building a coherent catalogue out of the messy and outdated "library" of random booklets and reports), and I'm learning so much.

Okay, and how ridiculous is this? My library--a university library--is open from 9 AM to 10 PM. NINE to TEN. I am aware that all caps is Internet shouting, but I am indignant. WHAT KIND OF STUDENT LIBRARY HOURS ARE THOSE??? I get the majority of my work done between the hours of 10 PM and 2 AM. That is my productive zone, and I can't be the only one in Ireland who feels this way. This is craziness! So I originally thought I'd be able to have these very busy days and then spend a few hours unwinding/studying in the library, but I can't. FURTHERMORE, as an undergraduate student, I can't actually check out many of the books I need. I can only use them in the library itself. So this is a conundrum, I'd say. I can't get much work done out of the library, but the library isn't really open when I need it to be.

But tomorrow. Bright and early I'm heading over there to hit the books before my classes in the afternoon.

Oh final anecdote. Our last client today at the clinic was an Egyptian guy who brought a friend along to translate although his English really wasn't that bad. But at one point Karin left the room to copy things and they started having a conversation in Arabic. Now, I'm quite rusty after a few months away from the language and they were speaking dialect, while I mainly know classical/formal. Plus they were speaking very quickly. But I could still catch a lot of their words--like "problem" (also "not a..."), "she is writing everything," "the important subject/topic," "do you have those papers? give them to her" and "do you understand?" I was concentrating so hard on catching what I could that I didn't realize the translator-friend noticed my intent stare. So in English, he teased, "Did you catch any of that?" But I just smiled and said, "Shweya," which is dialect for "a little." There was a pause as the two of them stared at me, and then they burst into surprised laughter. Moral of the story...never assume your private conversation is really all that private. Or, alternately, learn all the languages you can so you can eavesdrop all the time. That's my new goal in life.

P.S. Here in U2 Land, their new album, No Line on the Horizon, is advertised in big banners on buildings across the city.

P.P.S. Happy Birthday Madre! I win the best kid competition AGAIN! (I sent her flowers. Only because she asked me what I was getting her the other day on the phone and I laughed and said, "Nothing, and I have a perfectly good excuse this year because I can't get you anything from here," but then I felt bad. And also because I miscalculated the shipping costs for the order--if I'd paid attention I probably wouldn't have bought them. Or at least let them arrive a week late.)

Mid-Term Reflection

2009-03-02T22:16:00.002Z

The other day, I was talking to my mom on the phone, and she asked me if I missed home. I said no. The thing is, I miss certain things from home--my family, certain food products, a lower cost of living. But right now, that's basically it. I have a great apartment, so I can't complain about things like water pressure or musty floors, and while I wouldn't mind a dryer (we have a machine that doubles as a washer/dryer but no one uses dryers here because they use so much electricity and water), I actually don't really care about the stiffness of line-dried jeans. Basic creature comforts like bookstores and makeup are readily available, and actually more accessible than they are at home. Plus, the bottom line is that I'm not very high-maintainance; I'll eat and wear whatever when it comes down to it. And the things that drive other students crazy, like the messy bureaucracy of dealing with Trinity's administration and the suburban location of our apartments, are the sort of things I don't bother sweating because I just prefer to go with the flow and don't see the point of stressing over stuff you can't change. So transitioning here has been difficult, but not too bad. Culture shock has been minimal, but the city is multi-faceted enough not to get boring.

So while I've dealt with the general challenges that accompany a move to a new setting, at the moment, I have no desire to go back any time soon. Which is really startling for me, because I usually think of myself as such a homebody. But I guess I've been quietly, carefully, steadily making myself a new home here, and I just feel like there's so much more to do and explore. Dublin has a lot of the things that I consider "good" about cities--lots of places to explore, good public transportation and/or ease of walking, accessible bookstores, restaurants, nightlife, etc etc. And it lacks a lot of what turns me off about cities and makes me such a diehard little suburbanite--chaos, weird smells, the constant feeling that I'm about to get lost and disappear forever, busy, brisk, standoffish people. Sure, Dublin also has an exorbitant cost of living and its share of litter on the streets, but the friendliness of people on the streets and cozy size of the city balance out those things, at least a little. And yeah, it's still working on its food culture and sorely needs a better selection of good, CHEAP restaurants. But the weather has been so agreeable lately that it's easy to forget about those things. Blue skies. Milder temperatures. The faint scent of hope in the air. Today not included.

I've only been here for two months, although on most days I think something more along the lines of "I've already been here for two months?!!" I'm sure in a few more weeks' time I'll be a more eager to come home. But for now? I'm dreading the countdown till my return.

Also, random, but the guy who gave my favorite lecture of the NT series I had to attend a few weeks ago? It turns out he's a big deal. So big that I was catching up on one of my favorite theology blogs and was surprised to discover his name getting thrown out all over the place as a reference.

And tonight for dinner I made shrimp scampi with spaghetti and a spinach salad that was very yummy.

And I'm giving up sweets for Lent. I have given myself a loophole by allowing myself to partake in sweets if I am traveling and abstaining means a less awesome experience, but I'm not going to abuse this loophole, I swear.

Northern Ireland reflection to come soon.

I have so much work to catch up on.

Time. Is. Going. By. Too. Quickly.

London Calling

2009-02-24T23:28:00.001Z

*Previously: The Rainbow Connection

Recently: Had my first day volunteering today. Learned the administrative ropes. Fun times were had by all. Had to turn down an offer to eat pancakes at Aisling's house for lunch, though. Sigh. (It's Pancake/Shrove Tuesday, remember?) Went to class. Went to small group. Then went to my small group leader's flat where he was hosting a pancake party. So I got my pancakes in after all...and they were delicious. I know, crazy! Some people reading this blog may know of my avowed hatred of pancakes. And by "some people," I mean mostly my family members, who have had to endure my disparaging remarks every time pancakes happened to hit the breakfast table for years. I'm not really a picky eater, like, at all, so this was always a remarkable exception to the rule. (The "I'm the Best Kid in the Family" rule). But today I discovered pancakes aren't all awful...if you do them right. And as far as I'm concerned, "right" is somewhere between a thick, fluffy American flapjack (gross) and a thin, pock-marked European crepe (yum), which was how they were cooked tonight. They were small and relatively flat but not so much that they were crepes. Yum! Also, small group--yay! I really like it, and I love the other girls in it.

Okay. Onto important things. So. London. Here we go. Accompanied by a random selection of pictures.

We set off on Friday morning to catch our afternoon flight (we took the public bus to the airport because we're cheap). Arrived in the evening. Settled into the hostel, Palmer's Lodge, a gorgeous, highly rated, and very reasonably priced accommodation in a lovely Victorian building. It was stellar. They had a pub in the basement where we could use vouchers to get a cheap meal and drinks, so we had a quick dinner, chatted with the bartender about our plans, and talked about our weekend itinerary over the meal.

Pretty hostel.

After eating, we headed out to get our first taste of the city, even though we were all, in fact, a bit drowsy. One of my roommates had heard about a cool band playing at the bar attached to The Globe Theatre (as in Shakespeare's), so we headed in that direction. It turned out that "cool" meant mellow and strange--a jazzy version of The Jungle Book theme? ...Okay. Plus, the crowd was a little Young Urban Professional for us. So we just ordered some hot chocolate with very tasty sprinkles on top and chatted with each other. Then we headed out to find something else to do...but somehow ended up meandering back to the hostel for an early night's rest.

Saturday morning we woke up early, grabbed breakfast, and set out yet again. In our wandering the night before we'd passed a cute bakery, so we stopped in to grab a cupcake each before getting on the tube. Funny story about the tube...it turns out the weekend we chose to come to London was the weekend several of the more crucial sections of the lines we meant to use were under repair/renovation. So we had to re-route constantly and make crazy connections when we otherwise would've taken one line straight from our hostel to most of our destinations. It kind of sucked. Also, the cheapest ticket type, especially on weekends, is the Oyster Card, which you top up (pay as you go). For some reason, I was constantly misplacing mine in the many pockets of my bag and jacket, and many an exit (and entrance) were held up by my frantic searching. So many, in fact, that it became a running joke for my roommates. Poor them. Every time they passed the turnstile, they'd turn around, and there I'd be standing, forlorn and alone on the other side, turning my stuff inside out.

Actually, they couldn't really complain because guess who owned this trip? That's right, ME. I bought the little guidebook and map we used, so I exerted my bossy ways and directed our journey. I know what you're thinking. Me, navigating? That's a terrible idea! And you're right. It kind of is. But of the three of us, I'm the most experienced traveler and therefore the least overwhelmed by the whole experience, plus I'm naturally a bit controlling, so it was easier on all of us this way. So while I can't claim to have made every turn correctly or taken the shortest route for each destination, I got us where we needed to go and roughly according to (my) schedule.

This is what I looked like the whole weekend, basically. Poring over a map and turning it around and around so it lined up with my exact orientation. I'm not even kind of posing for this picture, but Becca's face is pretty priceless.

Anyway, we meandered our way to the Wellington Arch, which is also located near several war memorials, and met up with a free walking tour that turned out to be an excellent idea overall. Our Canadian tour guide took us to Buckingham Palace and a few other key locations (including Harry and William's current home!) and told us many entertaining stories before we left the group in Trafalgar Square.

Buckingham Palace (the queen wasn't in. Fun fact: you can tell based on the flag they're flying on top):

The skies cleared up a little and allowed me this lovely view of the palace-area streets:

Trafalgar Square, successfully rid of its infamous pigeon problem:

Then it was around lunch time, and Makala was planning on meeting up with a friend at Borough Market, so we headed there. This...might've been my favorite place in London. It is crowded and pushy and bustling, but, guys, The Food. So much food, so many kinds of food, so much deliciousness in one crammed space! And samples! I tasted an amazing Gruyere cheese and hot mulled wine and yummy cheesecake and peppery nuts. And fresh-squeezed orange juice. I grabbed a roasted vegetable and goat cheese sandwich for lunch.

After that, we headed to the Tower of London, which was great fun. A lot to see and do there; a lot of history that I am quite familiar with thanks to the historical novels I read as a child, which were oh-so-accurate. Ha. Most importantly of all, it was Valentine's Day, and I met the new man in my life. I just kept bumping into him everywhere...

We determined that his name is Branwell because, well, at some silly point in high school I had a joke about my "English boyfriend Branwell" and I remembered it just in time to name this guy.

And I did take pictures besides ones with Branwell in them there. Por ejemplo, look at the magnificent Tower Bridge:

One of my roommates, Becca, is very obsessed with the Tony/Grammy-winning show Spring Awakening, so she made sure we bought tickets to see it in London. It's currently off-West End, but they're hoping to get a transfer next month. We got onstage tickets, which was very cool--the cast literally sits next to you throughout the show. I'm kind of on the fence about the show itself, though, which is an "edgy" tale [partial nudity included; kind of awk from the onstage seats, come to think of it] of adolescent repression and discovery and angst. I loved the music, loved the art direction and production, loved the young and enthusiastic cast, many of whom were making their professional debuts in the show...and felt ehhh about the story. It was so forced and two-dimensional; I ended up with a similar impression as with Rent for that reason. But at the same time, I still had those moments where I found I was holding my breath because the songs were so well written and performed. Anyway, after the show, we hung around for a little bit in the bar below the theater and ended up getting to talk to some of the cast members (!), including the lead actor. Much to the amused horror of my friends, at one point in our brief, small talk conversation, I laughed in his face about something he said and proceeded to openly mock him [I won't disclose here, but you would've laughed, too], and witty banter was traded. It was an interesting interaction, at least in part because the cast members are all really young (16-24) and still give off a stars-in-their-eyes vibe. They seem as excited to have fans as people are excited to be them.

I don't even know this guy's name...I should probably look that up at some point.

Sunday we all overslept and missed our scheduled visit to Abbey Road, which wasn't too far from our hostel. But we had a more important Abbey to visit...because we attended mass at Westminster Abbey. Which was gorgeous.

Westminster Abbey: even more beautiful inside, but we weren't allowed to take photos.

Also saw Big Ben and took part in the requisite phone booth photo shoot (Tyra would be proud).

This is me pretending like I enjoy conversing with people on the phone...which is a HUGE lie.

We stopped by at Harrod's, just 'cause. It was quite snooty, really, and we got yelled at for trying on hats. Made up for it by buying a truffle in the food hall, though. Then we hightailed it outta there and visited King's Cross. Because even though I'm a Harry Potter fake,* my friends are normal people and therefore obsessed fans.

*I have fooled many a person into thinking that I've read/watched every book/film because I am so well-versed in HP. But this is a lie. I actually missed the craze and found it incredibly difficult to catch up. So difficult, in fact, that I still have yet to do so. But shhhh. Don't tell ANYONE. When some of my friends at school found out, they nearly strangled me.

Then...we went to Spitalfields Market, which was like a magical wonderland of cool stalls. It's a little commercial-feeling, but I still really enjoyed the variety of offerings and bought a necklace with a ceramic pendant and a flower hair comb, because I am ridiculous like that. Oh, and then Makala and I split a huge brownie. Yum.

Then it was time to go home, sadly. And we had a crazy, stressful return journey because the return ticket on the economical Green Line bus we bought? Turns out there's no guarantee you'll get a seat, and Sunday evenings are a terrible time to try to catch it back to the airport. So in addition to losing the money from the return ticket, we also had to pay an exorbitant amount of cash to get a cab, and we only barely made it to the airport in time. As in, the check-in counter was set to close five minutes after we breathlessly arrived at it, muttering evil things about the Green Line under our breath.

Note to future London travelers: if you're flying into Luton, watch out for that Green Line. It's cheap, but a return ticket won't necessarily work out for you. And if you are getting a return ticket, it's worth it to travel to the first stop, even though it's completely roundabout, because you're much more likely to get a seat.

Maybe the best part about London though? Coming home. Stepping out of the bus and onto Dublin city centre land, we breathed a huge sigh of relief and contentment. "We're home!" we cried. Home, where it was warmer...friendlier...smaller...home. Dublin is home! Isn't that just crazy? It felt so good to be back.

Err...I wrote all this up on Tuesday, but the pictures took a while to load. So you're not going crazy if you seem to be seeing it a day late. And I leave for Northern Ireland tomorrow morning, so "see you" in a few days!

P.S. More pictures (a few more than on Facebook, too) can be found here. All the pictures of me were stolen from my roommates, but I am including them because otherwise my mom will complain. I haven't had a chance to caption all the pictures, so warning in advance if some of them seem a bit strange.

The Lovers, the Dreamers, and Me

2009-02-23T02:14:00.001Z

Note: from here on out, if I can't think of an actual title for my post, I'm going to use (probably irrelevant) song lyrics. Recognize this one?

I should probably clarify re: the loneliness mentioned in the previous post. At the moment, I am lonely in the way that you must be lonely when you uproot yourself for a period of transience. In fact, my life is very full of people right now. My roommates have become fast friends. I have gotten to know at least one or two people in each of my classes, so I never sit alone. I have my international friend. I have small group each week. I've met many people through church visits. And I've made one friend through my dance class. So it isn't a painful loneliness, thankfully, but more of a curious loneliness.

I guess I should note, though, I'm the kind of girl who needs friends (like books) to breathe. And on every level--acquaintances, besties, old friends, reconnected friends, transient friends, convenient friends, listening friends, outgoing friends, wise soul friends. So while the process might be slow going, I am making friends, and not of the "besties" variety, most likely, but...still friends. I am a solitary being in that I need large amounts of alone time, but I'm not a true solitary being. I'd never last completely on my own.

Friday evening I went to watch the documentary Turn It Loose as my way of participating in the film festival. It was playing at the cinema in the shopping centre down the road. The movie's about an international breakdancing competition, and the director and two of the main characters were there to answer questions after the film. The director had some great material to work with, so it almost had to be good. But he also favored tight face shots, which I generally find unnerving and often kind of gross, and I thought several of his slow motion sequences would have been more effective if they'd been cut down a bit. Less is more and all that. In general, I also thought the editing was distractingly inconsistent at times. Like the way he introduced characters. But I'm symmetry-obsessed, so maybe that's not fair. Still, it was an interesting film.

Saturday morning I visited Kilmainham Gaol, which is an important site in terms of Irish political history, with some international soc. students. The fire alarm went off in the middle of our tour, so we were cut short. Most people left, but a few of us went to the hotel across the street for lunch and then returned to the Gaol to finish up our visit. It's a really interesting place, and the tour guides are very thorough, engaging, and informative. Yes, I have pictures. No, not on my computer yet.

On my way back to the apartment, I stopped by at the Temple Bar Food Market. After visiting the Borough Market in London, I found myself lamenting the lack of a true foodie culture in Dublin, so I decided to scope out the scene there. It's not as cheap as the Borough and about a tenth of the size. But I did find amazing Mexican food (at last!) and a lot of cheese out of my price range. I was so excited about the Mexican that after buying a jar of jalepenos I had a whole conversation with the guy about how much I missed good Mexican food, and words in Spanish were exchanged.

In the evening I went to a small dinner party at another girl in the program's apartment in the building next to mine. It was an eclectic mix of people, but I was there for hours, talking and laughing and eating amazing lasagna and even apple pie. Midnight rolled around and my roommate and I finally returned to our flat, only to receive an invitation from one of the boys next door to join him and a few others in watching a movie. So I was there for a few hours, too. Kind of fell asleep during the movie. But then the lights came on and we chatted and laughed some more in that loose, middle-of-the-night, some-of-us-are-drunk way where everything is uproariously funny for no reason.

Sunday evening I went to church, the same church I went to the week before last. Small, young, diverse crowd. Might end up settling there.

Those are all evenings. What did I do during the day? Uhh...sleep definitely wasn't part of the picture...neither was reading books unrelated to schoolwork...

Anyway, I know. I still need to tell you about London. There is much to tell. Think witty banter with actors! Out of service Tube lines! Late night kiwi purchases! A mysterious [new] friend named Branwell!* Me, the group navigator and itinerary coordinator! Read that last one again and try not to faint with shock! (I was in control of a map!)

I'm going to do it in one run, so prepare for a long post. With pictures. I promise you it will be the next post. I have some of it written already [in my head] so it's coming.

*I say "new" because he's not really new at all. He's been around since my high school days, but I think Elizabeth is the only one who knows what I'm talking about, if she even remembers.

Chips + Beer + Dimitri =

2009-02-20T02:14:00.006Z

A perfect combination. An unexpected night.

I went to the last lecture of the series required for my class this [Thursday] evening. It was on the birth of Jesus, and it was interesting, but the best was hands-down last week. A brilliant, engaging lecture on the "new" perspective on Paul's doctrine of justification by faith. He had me scribbling thoughts and questions in the margins of my notes, and you know a lecturer is good when he sparks that kind of individual rumination. Also, he was both a brilliant scholar and an actual believer, that rare treat in this academic world. The whole thing was so straightforward and obvious in some ways, but I'd never thought of it before because of a Luther-muddled brain. Which makes no sense to you because I'm not explaining it, but it's late, and I'm tired, and getting besides the point. Ask me if you ever want further details.

Anyway, after tonight's lecture, I stood around for a while chatting with a few of my classmates that I've kind of gotten to know, who are just loads of fun. People to "have a laugh" with, as they say here. Then I ended up spending the rest of the night with A, the girl whose house I visited the Sunday before last; we took the Luas home together and then she took me to a proper chipper to have my first taste of real Irish chips [as in "fries" but 10x the yum]--plain with salt and vinegar and garlic-and-cheese, both delicious. She also helpfully pointed out some other key food spots in the neighborhood. Which I have promptly forgotten because...it's me. No spatial orientation. After we picked up the chips we headed to her house, where her brothers were having a party. But we locked ourselves away in a quiet haven with our chips, beer, and the perfect man--that is to say, Dimitri from the movie Anastasia. If you know me, you probably know that I love that movie, especially the music, and more than anything else, I LOVE Dimitri. He was my first cartoon crush. And more or less my only. Because face it, it's weird to crush on an animated man. Unless he's Dimitri.

I stayed over much longer than anticipated, but it was really good fun. I chatted with some of her younger brothers' friends who were wandering in and out of the room. I watched a short dance film she choreographed and directed. And on the way over we got some good conversation in--the reason she asked me over, besides the fact that I probably cast off an air of lost, lonely puppy dog on occasion, is because she had a bit of a strange day. As a result, when we got to talking about it, I was able to share a tiny bit about my recent stuff. And that was just...a relief. Anyhow. Speaking of good things, meeting A is definitely high on the list. She's been so good to me, whether in meeting me for coffee before lecture or lending me the first season of Weeds. And all at her initiation, because I'm a shy little cricket sometimes.

At one point tonight--it may have been when she pulled out the chocolate--she laughed at my widened eyes and said, "I love how you love things." And true, I'd had the same sparkly expression when I tasted my first chips, when she pulled Anastasia from the shelf, when I saw the ukulele on the couch. But I think it's easier to love things when you are a touch lonely on a strange adventure. Which I am here.

Things That Are Good

2009-02-18T15:05:00.003Z

Life is starting to feel full. And time is continuing to feel rather slippery. Looking at my calendar and scrolling through the next few months, for a moment I felt completely overwhelmed by how quickly everything would go by. I already know it.

I am wearing a dress because it's getting warmer.

I am going back to dance class tonight.

I have visits scheduled for Edinburgh, Madrid, Greece, and Italy. So far.

I am hoping to watch a film or two through the Jameson Dublin International Film Festival this weekend. It's been on all week, but I haven't had a chance to get a ticket for anything.

And, most excitingly, I had a brief interview this morning at the Refugee Information Service, where I will start volunteering 2-3 days a week (I have an absurdly squashed schedule, if you'll recall, that leaves me with a few full class days and a few near-empty days). I am very, very excited about this--I contacted several NGOs that work with refugees/asylum seekers/immigrants, and while some had no place for me, some were too small to accommodate me, some never got back to me, and some took my application, entered me into their system, and have not yet gotten in touch...this place was a straight shot. The director was very warm and enthusiastic about my getting involved, and I love her already. I'm getting a desk and my first tasks on Tuesday. I'll probably do a lot of administrative stuff, but she said if I wanted to consider helping out at the outreach clinics or assist with a research project, we could work something out, as well.

I don't say it enough, especially lately. But God is good.

I've always believed in a God who provides, although lately I've been wrestling with the question of to what extent we can attribute something as an act of God. In my Religion and Literature class, we've been comparing Alexander Pope's "Essay on Man" and Voltaire's Candide and discussing theological positions of optimism, existentialism, etc. Anyway, we've been spending a lot of time on the question of Providence, and the bottom line is that I have always leaned in the direction of Arminianism over Calvinism--that is, free will over predestination/determinism. And this is getting way boring for some of you, so I'll get to the point. I tend to scoff a little internally when people attribute small things to the hand of God, not because I necessarily think they're wrong, but because I feel that's a fairly pointless and arbitrary path. I think I associate in my mind with rabid sign-seeking--you know, "I saw the number 12 when I was walking down the street and met you, and then I saw the number 12 again when I was deciding whether or not to propose, and then I saw the number 12 when I was trying to decide where to get on one knee, and that is proof that God has been guiding me this whole way!" Um, okay. Sure. I could do the same thing and come to the conclusion that I should cut off my left foot, really. It's the kind of thing that is incapable of being proven or unproven, so I'm not going to tell you you're wrong, but I will probably laugh at you a little in my head.

Having said that, I forget sometimes that I believe that every good and perfect gift comes from a steadfast Father. So yeah, maybe it's silly for people to say, "I found my favorite pencil under my bed! God worked out a miracle for me because He really wanted me to have it!" But the basic sentiment that God is the author of good and that every good thing, whether it be love or a favorite pencil, comes from him? I do believe that, ultimately. Even though sometimes I forget.

So. For the good things in my life. I'm thankful.

[And hoping they will continue.]

The Scoop

2009-02-17T23:21:00.001Z

I know, I know. You missed me. Well...here is the latest scoop:

1. London = jam-packed and wonderful. I will tell you all about it, and maybe even show you some pictures, when I catch up with myself.

2. Went to Neil Gaiman reading/book-signing tonight. Stood in line forever. FOREVERRR.

3. Finally gave my bangs a trim this morning. I was hoping to pick up a pair of hair scissors and do a proper job, but I got impatient. Also, they didn't have the cheap scissors in stock at Boots when I checked yesterday. I feel a great sense of relief/accomplishment, though. They were driving me insane.

4. Bought a pair of hard shoes (for dancing) today! And also 12 kiwis!

5. My most recent announcement about a visiting friend should be adjusted: I have TWO visiting friends on the way now, and a third with whom I am still working out plans.

And now, pictures.

I stole this from my roommate's Facebook. I pulled out a book while waiting for a cheap dinner in the pub below our hostel in London. I find this photo amusing because 1.) It led to a discussion of girls who bring books to parties, à la Rory Gilmore and...myself, and 2.) I have two drinks in front of me, à la an alcoholic and...NOT myself. And I am paying them no attention.

Finally, I mentioned Tuesday in my last post. Last Tuesday, like today, was a remarkably sunshine-filled day. After a brief meeting with other IES Trinity students and two of the IES staff over coffee, I had about six hours to kill before class, but I didn't want to go back home since I was already in the city centre. So I wandered in and out of bookstores, searching in vain for a few titles for class, and then I stopped for lunch at this place called Wagamama, which is Japanese-ish fast-ish food. Ish. After that, I decided to check out St. Stephen's Green at last...St. Stephen's Green Park is Dublin's miniature version of Central Park. It's also the last Luas stop on the Green Line into the city centre, so whenever I hear "St. Stephen's Green" now, I automatically follow it up with a mental "Faiche Stiabhna,"* because the Luas lady, like most signs here, says everything in both English and Irish.** This despite the fact that very few people know much Irish, although they are forced to study it for a few years in school.

Anyway, I went to St.-Stephen's-Green-Faiche-Stiabhna, and it was lovely. There is green, and a pond, and fountains, and lots of trees. The green is the bright, unreal green I've come to expect in Ireland, although it's much tamer and more neatly trimmed than the wild grass in Howth or Galway. Still, it's quite impressive. And there were many young mothers, perhaps nannies, with their strollers. I sat on a bench and alternately listened to my iPod and read a book.

*Pronounced roughly like fie-ka steve-na.

*Irish. Not Gaelic. Only ignorant Americans call it Gaelic. Haha.

Here are pictures.

Oh yeah--on my way back, I saw this crazy guy.

Someone's Coming...

2009-02-12T01:48:00.004Z

From across the pond. My very best friend in the whole wide world. My sister, if you will. This was our conversation last night:

me: yay yay yaya yay
ok! you can shower for real now

her: i knowhadlihfialdshflai;dfhao;ifhyf~~
its really happening

haha! it issssss

and actually i get more time with you

yeah! which is perfect!

so on friday i woulnd't mind being alone actually
it's just one day actually
friday
aslkfhad ilvhqwe;ivghfchad;fla

but still!
adfoadjas;lk!

i am so excited whoohoo

me TOO

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Meanwhile: I'm going to London tomorrow.

---

Meanwhile: My roommate said this a few days ago: "Do you notice how the more we spend time together, the more abusive we get?" This because we have similar tendencies to give offhand remarks that could be construed as insulting in response to one another. I think we all kept it under control for a few weeks, but now that we're friends, we've dropped the pretense and make fun of each other pretty relentlessly.

---

Meanwhile: I have this other post with a few more pictures pending from Tuesday (what did I do on Tuesday? You'll have to wait to find out). But I'm at a school computer and therefore can't post the pictures just yet.

---

Also: Last night I finally made it to the Irish dance class. I couldn't get in touch with the instructor, so I just dropped in and said, "Can I join now?" And he said, "Sure." So I did. The class was pretty big and divided in two: people who are beginners this term and people who have prior experience. For the first half, when we were in soft shoes, I stuck with the beginner group to be safe and to gauge how difficult things would be. But that was excruciatingly slow, so when we switched into hard shoes, I defected to the other group and was much happier there. Plus, I met some delightfully friendly people who caught me up on the hornpipe we were doing and wanted to Facebook friend me. Haha. But seriously, just getting some exercise besides walking felt really good. And it was nice to do something so familiar, to fall into rhythms of muscle memory. And my calves feel alive again...

Now I just have to buy a pair of hard shoes before next Wednesday. Which is fine because I don't own a pair to begin with; at school I borrow. So it will be nice to have a pair of my own.

---

Finally: I think I'm getting sick.

Howth

2009-02-12T01:30:00.006Z

So, Howth. It's a little fishing village off the coast. We took the DART, which is the very cheap local train, from the city centre. It took about 30 minutes, and the weather was quite nice that day...until we got to the coast. Then it was super windy. Still sunny, though. Aside from the permeating fishy smell, Howth has to offer a famous castle and gardens [as anyone who wrote a paper on Ulysses about a certain monumental scene at Howth Head will easily recall...oh, wait, that was me] and a lighthouse.

When we arrived, we walked around a little and saw lots of boats...

Rocks and water...

More rocks and water...

So we stopped for a delightful meal at a little place called Findlaters. Then the roomies and I decided to check out the lighthouse and maybe loop around to see the castle before we went home.

Becca (on the right) convinced Makala and me that, despite the freezing temperatures, it would be a good idea to get ice cream. Because that is what you do on "the shore." So we did. And it was delicious.

Our journey started out fine. We had a free map from the tourist office, and we headed into the "village."

Checking out the map, we discovered there were two routes to the lighthouse: the street and the "cliff walk." The street was lined with adorable cottages (more like mansions, but not massive, just extraordinarily nice), but after a while, commenting "I WANT TO RETIRE HERE" got a little old. So we decided to diverge onto the cliff walk.

We hadn't quite factored in the recent snowstorm, though. The path was quite...muddy?

It wasn't ALL bad. We did get a nice walk through the wild and woolly landscape.

Only it turned out the map was not drawn quite to scale. Combined with the slow-going of navigating a gross, muddy path with the least amount of damage, it took much longer than anticipated to get to the lighthouse. In fact...we never quite reached it.

Here it is, so close and yet so far away. It's totally fading into the misty white, but it's on the very tip of the mini-peninsula.

We finally called it quits and decided to return another day because it was getting dark, and at that point we were walking down a crumbly, rocky cliff. We never did make it to the castle. But that's okay, because the gardens are supposed to be gorgeous in spring. Leopold Bloom would know...

Here's an isolated mansion-cottage we saw, along with what Makala identified as the tree from The Lorax. I think she's right.

I think we were right to leave when we did, though, because shortly after we turned around the moon became quite visible. Here it is just a little speck. You probably can't see it. Or you think it's a spot on your screen. But it's there!

Seriously though, I know you're thinking I'm just awful at reading maps or something. I mean, I am. But it took us about a third of the time to get back to the city centre when we used only the road. Yes, we were moving more quickly because we weren't cautiously feeling around for solid ground. But still. The paths look nearly identical on the map. Not so in reality.

Click here for more pictures. My mother complained that my album (which she viewed on Facebook, because despite my vocal pleas for her to delete her account, she will not) lacks pictures of me, because I hold the camera. So I mingled in a few pictures stolen from my roommates' albums of myself here. I figure that will keep her quiet while I put her back on limited profile access...HA.

Church Hunting

2009-02-09T00:58:00.005Z

Pre-script: I got a bunch of comments on the previous post, weirdly, so I left a comment in response. Read it, because it will change your life.

Saturday I spent a day with my lovely roommates in Howth, a fishing village-turned-suburb about 30 minutes from here by train. Pictures and rundown to come.

Sunday [today? yesterday?] I went to the local Methodist church. The sidewalks were treacherous--the snow/rain has been melting and freezing in a continuous cycle for a few days now, so this morning there was just an endless sheet of ice on the ground--but even so, it took me all of eight minutes to walk there. I arrived in time for the start of their second, "contemporary" service and sat with my new friend Aisling and her family (the girl I mentioned in the last post--her name is pronounced "Ash-ling"). Two girls I met in the Wednesday small group two weeks ago (before I defected to the Tuesday small group) were also there. The service was good. There was a guest preacher with a mysterious accent who spoke of having a Lebanese father and working for many years in Nigeria; no one I talked to had a clue where he was from. After the service, Aisling invited me to her house for late lunch with her family, and I walked there with her and her boyfriend on a journey that involved my failed attempt to follow them up a little hill of snow, followed by her hysterical laughter as I barely avoided faceplanting. [I ended up walking around the hill.] Anyway, her house is in one of the neighborhoods ("estates") a little further down the road, and it is a warm, chaotic place. I think she has five siblings, not all of whom were in the house. Two of her younger brothers played some Guitar Hero World Tour while I watched until the rest of the fam told them it was too loud. Haha.

It was strange, because as wonderful of an afternoon as it was, I felt a bit off-kilter the whole time. It's that whole trying-to quiet down the painfully shy part of me-and-make friendly conversation even when I'm dying of awkwardness-inside thing. You know. That thing. I want to make friends and be myself, my "zany, crazy self" as my mother called me over the phone tonight, and at the same time...I can't. Sometimes I can barely get a straight sentence out. I'm working on it.

In the evening, I decided to visit one more church, making this my first two-church Sunday even though I meant to attempt one a few weeks ago. Or, as my roommate commented, I am so holy today. This church-hopping is occurring partly from curiosity, partly from unfulfillable expectations, and partly from indecisiveness. I headed into the city and visited a small, evangelical Church of Ireland congregation. Just about every church here seems to have a service at 11 and a service at 7. Evening services, in general, are a lot of young people. But I quite liked this place, and I had tea and chatted afterwards with several of the Trinity kids who go there, most of whom I met a few weeks ago at the CU large group meeting.

So, the thing is, I'm torn. If I go to evening services, I will likely see people my age that I can have easy fellowship with, and plenty of time to sleep in. But no children. Kids and families are always at morning services. And I'm kind of dying from children/babies withdrawal. So much so that the other day my roommate Makala and I passed a baby on the street and I made a vague threat to kidnap it. Uh-oh.

Just to make this post impossibly long, and to give my mom something to peruse so she'll stop bugging me about updating more than is humanly possible each day, because I'm pretty sure she's the only one who will be interested in reading this, here's a review of the churches I've visited:

Church 1: charismatic, evangelical, Church of Ireland. Beautiful, restored stone church building. Several very friendly people with whom I have shared a meal or two; generally speaking, a very international congregation. Journey there a bit long. Music mostly familiar. Solid sermons.
(Morning) Some families with kids, full band for worship. (Evening) Almost all young people, slightly smaller group, more mellow worship.

Church 2 (Morning): Baptist. Beautiful stone church building, largest congregation of the group. Music mostly traditional, although I got there late and missed most of it. In general, feels a little more traditional, but also very warm, somehow. I had a guest speaker and also came in on the day they did Communion after service, so I didn't really get a chance to meet anyone except the South African doctor next to me. Kind of hard to get a read on things in general. Journey there a bit long; it's a bit out of the way for me.

Church 3 (Morning): Methodist. Smaller building, smaller congregation. Music contemporary, but some parts of the service still felt quite old-school. I had a guest speaker so I don't know how the regular preaching is. Some families, but most go to the traditional service just before. A few people I already know. Really, really close to home. Really.

Church 4 (Evening): Evangelical, Church of Ireland. Meets in a smallish location. Small congregation, but filled the room. Music traditional, but with piano and guitar, and I loved it, can't quite pinpoint why. Mostly young people, including people I've already met, and many internationals. Sermon solid. There are a few things about the message that I found mildly off-putting, but only because I am not as black-white, straight-and-narrow as some people. [I'm not using the latter idiom properly, but I feel like it describes what I mean.]

So before I settle down, I kind of want to test Church 2's evening service or Church 4's morning service. And I'm still not sure which I like best. In a lot of ways, Church 4 was my most comfortable experience. But there are so many factors to consider, the largest of which is...I am going to be away for many a Sunday, so how important is it, really, for me to settle down in one church home for a few months? In fact, how possible will it be for me to plug into one at all? So. Something to think about. Should I just pick a place for convenience?

That's the end of that.

Lately I have been vacillating wildly between feeling alive and at home here and wondering what I'm doing here at all. Which seems just about right for studying abroad in general, although a little unexpected since "here" isn't all that different from home in the first place in a lot of ways.

And time's passing too quickly! It is seriously February already. Like well into it. Help.

Postscript: The last part of my pre-script was a lie.

Belly Full of Marshmallows

2009-02-06T23:30:00.000Z

Haha fine, you have all convinced me. My life is not boring, just a bit tame. Here's further tame.

Last night, I attended a mandatory lecture for class entitled "Why Was Jesus Crucified," part of a lecture series on "The Historical Jesus." It looked at the question from a strictly historical view, focusing on Caiaphas and Pilate as anchors for two perspectives. It was a really good lecture, but some of the attendees were apparently disgruntled by the fact that it wasn't a religious or "spiritual" lecture, and the Q&A afterwards got...interesting. One old lady harped on the fact that the focus was too narrow, and then an old guy (who turned out to be the head of the Classics department) turned around for a sharp rebuttal of that criticism, and the rest of us smiled nervously. Thankfully, the lecturer was very gracious about everything. Not to mention young and stylish.

After the lecture, I chatted with some classmates and ended up deciding to go home with one of them (she lives with her family very close to my flat) instead of meeting up with some acquaintances at a bar in the city. We talked the whole way, and she is super cool. She was in a contemporary dance company for a few years in London before coming home to study, and she was a double major (two subject moderatorship, as they say here) in theology and sociology before switching to just theology. So we talked about the lack of creative arts at Trinity and Dublin dance life in general. And then a brief detour in discussing Irish names (she has one) somehow led to a discussion of Israel-Palestine.* She volunteered in the West Bank for a summer (!), so we talked about the whole conflict, and we were still on that subject when I reached my apartment and said goodbye. But seriously, how cool is she? Plus, she is between churches right now, but there's a local one she recommended that I check out as she will be there this Sunday. And I think I will. Another girl I met also mentioned this church, but when I looked it up, I wasn't terribly keen to go--it's a small Methodist church. But it's only 8 minutes away from me, which is a plus.

*The path of the conversation: Irish names --> Irish vowelling --> Similar to Hebrew vowelling --> No, I haven't studied Hebrew, but I've studied Arabic and it's sometimes similar --> West Bank.

This evening my roommates and I went over to another girl's apartment for a Gilmore Girls marathon and junk food. Yay yay. It was fun. Low-key. Filling. See, look at me, trying to be sociable and outgoing.

Picture time:

Random creepy leprechaun we saw on the way to campus the other day.

Since you're just dying to look at another random picture of my food. Amazing new discovery: Allrecipes.com ingredients search. You search a few ingredients you have on hand and it turns up recipes that contain those. This was a peanut chicken recipe I ate with sesame green beans and brown rice.

And finally, the snow. This is the parking lot of my apartment complex yesterday when I left for class. Holy smokes. The sidewalks for icy, so I opted for shoes with traction. Unfortunately, my only shoes with traction are not in the slightest bit waterproof. And I put my snow boots away with such relish when I left home!

Recent

2009-02-05T00:38:00.005Z

A certain person has requested an update. I told her the reason I haven't been updating is that nothing has happened in the past few days. My days have been whiled away in fruitlessness. Classes, wandering the streets, avoiding the terrible weather (the snow turned to sleet and rain on Tuesday). Well, let's see. I guess these days have been an exercise in potential.

Yesterday I had lunch with an American classmate and some of the people in her program; they were nice and took my number for future hang-out or even travel invitations. Could be fun. In the evening I went to a CU small group--last week I went to Wednesday's, but some rearranging of my schedule has made the Tuesday one preferable--and had a nice time. More numbers were exchanged. Maybe these will help me to jump start my social life?

Then I went to an International Society showing of Slumdog Millionaire for free, and afterward went with some of my new friends [including cake party Sarah and a Norwegian girl whose name I forgot and now it's too late for me to ask without being weird] to the Pav, the on-campus pub, where we thawed and sipped and chatted about cultural identity, among other things.

Side note: It was interesting hearing people's reactions to the film--everyone expressed some degree of unfulfilled expectations after all the hype. Which was so different from my reaction when I first saw it, because that was before all the nominations and Oscar buzz and back when the film was still in limited release. So I had no idea what I was getting myself into and was just blown away. But after discussing it, I think I decided you have to be a certain kind of person to enjoy the movie as well, or at least be in a certain mindset. You have to appreciate classic storytelling tropes as classic and not cliché, you have to believe in happy endings and enjoy fairy tales. And also like the crazy colors and implausible but epic plot points borrowed from Bollywood.

Anyway. It was horrifically raining and cold when my flatmates and I left the Pav, but we stopped on the way home for McDonald's Happy Meals to eat on the way home because...sometimes, when it's that miserably cold and wet and you haven't eaten in ten hours, a small fries and cheeseburger can be exactly what you need. Don't judge me.

Today after class I checked a place about 20 minutes from campus that houses a huge variety of dance classes, which one of the girls from lunch yesterday was telling me about. Then I contacted the instructor of the adult Irish dance classes about joining in. I'm crossing my fingers. I'm also looking into swing classes and considering Pilates or yoga at my school gym if my schedule allows. Maybe. Some physical activity would be nice.

I'm also waiting to hear back from a place where I sent in an application to volunteer in addition to a few other volunteer inquiries. I'm getting kind of antsy to do something with all my time here...besides schoolwork.

Could that have been a more boring update? But you asked for it, you got it. I think I will keep my camera battery charged and start snapshotting my life again to keep things interesting.

Snow Day (And Cake)

2009-02-02T17:14:00.005Z

Woke up this morning to a snow-covered Dublin, much to my surprise. It made everything feel both fresh and alien. I loved looking around and seeing that white blanket sparkling on the grass, the street lamps, the buildings. And I love the quiet footfall and eerie calm of walking around in snow in the morning. But I was also startled every time the Luas made a stop, because just when I thought I'd mastered recognizing the scenery of each one, that scenery changed. Then again, it doesn't exactly take much to make me feel spatially disoriented in any given situation. (Just have me exit your house from a different door from usual and I will be stumbling around like a drunkard. I wish I were exaggerating.)

It turned to slush pretty quickly, but people were still chattering away about well into the day. It's not exactly a common occurrence...my classmates told me once a year maybe, so of course everyone was walking around dazed and confused about it. Exciting times.

---

Actually, I wrote the above in the morning, and on my way home this evening it was snowing again. And kind of hailing, but a soft, weightless hail. These two high school-age boys were making a little snowman on the sidewalk, and he was cute lumpy guy, with weedy hair and lopsided eyes. I started laughing when I saw it because at home they would probably be too old for snowman-building, but when else will they have the chance? So I told them it looked nice and they looked inordinately pleased.

---

Yesterday morning I tried out another church, and in the afternoon I went to a lame ceili-that-wasn't in Temple Bar--it ended up being just a band and miscellaneous old people dancing together. It was freezing, so eventually my flatmate and I bailed and ventured over to the other side of the city, where a German girl we met on the Galway trip had invited us over for a "cake party." Too cheap to pay for Luas tickets, we followed the tracks instead and eventually found the house in a rather sketchy, deserted-looking area of town. The journey itself was something to laugh nervously about, eerie (there's that word for the second time this post) and strange. The street lamps glowed orange, illuminating the scraps of paper and metal swirling around our feet as we passed graffiti-covered walls. It was evening, but warmer and quieter than it had been hours before because the wind had calmed down considerably. We were the only ones around for the majority of the walk, so our voices felt loud and lonely in the emptiness. And things got stranger as we reached her neighborhood--what was up with the barbed wire over the walls?

The house itself was adorable and cozy and came complete with a cute dog named Molly. The girl's roommates were out of town, so she invited a small gathering of people over for hot tea, good company, and delicious baked goods. It was fun. We headed home having told some of the people we'd see them at a pub to watch the SuperBowl, but...it wasn't worth it to me, ultimately, to go all the way back into the city to watch maybe the first quarter of the game (which I didn't even care about) in order to make the final train home. Especially when we wouldn't even get to watch the commercials.

Anyway, we left our friend's house with a few guys, and proceeded to have this conversation:

Me: This neighborhood is kind of creepy. What's up with the barbed wire?
French boy: Yes, it's because it is a jail.
Me: (thinking something was lost in a too-literal translation) Hahaha! You're funny.
FB: That wasn't a joke.
Me: What?
FB (pointing): Right there. It's a jail. For...how do you say it? Sex offenders?
(My flatmate and I exchange glances)
Me: Okay, let's walk a little faster.

---

I'm catching up on the Super Bowl commercials online.

Dublin Shopping

2009-01-31T23:24:00.002Z

Today was a lazy shopping/browsing day. After a brunch of cereal and leftover miniature quiches from dinner last night (I don't know, I was craving quiche and I was at the grocery store so I picked up some frozen puff pastry and went to town), I headed into the city to check out the "Craft Fair" in Cow's Lane, part of the the Temple Bar TradFest. The showing was a little pitiful; there were only a handful of stalls and most of them were selling overpriced (but admittedly beautiful) handmade jewelry. Supposedly there's a market there in the first place that is supposed to be relaunched in March. We will see what that looks like.

After that I made my way over to the Georges Street Market Arcade, a small cluster of shops and kiosks tucked inside an indoor market. I overheard a girl describe it perfectly: "They always have such a mixture of really cheap and really expensive things here." You can find anything from olives to vinyl to jewelry there, but there really is a mixture of price ranges. A lot of the clothing boutiques were way out of my price range, as were the cupcakes at the bakery stand, but there were also stalls offering 10 euro bracelets and hats. It is fun for browsing, though. I didn't get anything, but I wistfully admired a few dresses and vintage books.

While traveling from one location to the next, I also walked slowly enough to notice all the little shops everywhere. Grafton Street is the city's big pedestrian shopping street. It connects the Stephen's Green Luas stop, the last stop on the Green Line and my final stop into the city centre, with Trinity's campus, so I walk it at least twice a day. There's a mixture of big department stores and smaller, cheaper places. Also a McDonald's. Of course. The best thing about Grafton Street are the buskers--they come out especially in the evening, but during all times of day you can find a few street performers, from human statues to fiddlers. It's always funny to sort out the good performers from the bad ones. I've heard a few mediocre musicians, but also some great ones. There's this one band of two girls and two guys that I've seen more than once, all on guitars with big, lusty voices in four-part harmony, and they always sound fantastic.

Anyway, I've been up and down Grafton, and also O'Connell, which is the city's other big thoroughfare (on the north side of the river). But I haven't spent as much time perusing the side streets, because I usually only take them with a destination in mind. So today I wandered in and out of small shops and checked out what they had to offer. There are several charity shops around, like Oxfam and Enable Ireland, that sell secondhand stuff for great prices...and great causes! Guilt-tempered shopping is win-win for everyone. I actually did buy a perfect corduroy bag that is just beat up enough to be super-soft without looking raggedy for school and a shirt for like 5 dollars at the Enable store.

After wandering, I headed up north to Chapters for some book browsing. I love this store! It's really big, has generally great prices, and an entire upper floor of secondhand books. I have never wandered in without leaving with something...which is actually terrible, because books are really heavy and I'm not sure how I'll bring all of them back home at my current rate of accumulation. I picked up one book for school, one book of Edna St. Vincent Millay poetry, one beach read (for 1 euro), and one copy of The Graveyard Book. I ended up buying the children's edition of the book, which has a different illustrator and cover design. Of course. I mean, it did just win the Newbery Medal; I think it deserves to be read as a kids' book.

Lucky for me, Chapters is located on Parnell Street just where the Moore Street market reaches its end, so on my way back home, I picked up a bag of potatoes and several bell peppers from the stalls. Cheap! When you're there in the evening, you can hear the ladies calling out their discounted price for their bananas. One day I will pick up a too-ripe bunch and make some banana bread. With chocolate chips would be best, but I'm still looking for proper (read: not ridiculously expensive) chocolate chips here.

And then I headed back home. In case you need to hear about any further minutiae of my day, I ate leftover pasta for dinner but beefed up the jar sauce with sauteed onions, mushrooms, zucchini, bell pepper, and ham. I'm getting better at this living independently thing.

What? School? What's That?

2009-01-31T01:06:00.001Z

In case any of us have forgotten that I am here to study abroad, I will grace you with this Class Overview and Other School-Related Things post.

----------

Thankfully, almost all of my classes occur in one building, called the "Arts Block." It houses just about all the humanities departments. Cool. Less cool is the way that the class schedules are organized; I have each class twice, and both the location and the hour of each course changes for the second class. Example: I have one class from 11-12 on Mondays in a way too large lecture theatre and from 5-6 on Thursdays in a depressing gray classroom. And I have one random class once a week across campus in the Math building. But other than that, everything is fairly easy to find because it is all in this one lovely building!

Now for my initial evaluation of courses. First, a vocab lesson.

Terminology:
Junior Freshman = Freshman
Senior Freshman = Sophomore
Junior Sophister = Junior
Senior Sophister = Senior
Tutor = professor or grad student who oversees a "tutorial"

Writing Ireland: A JF course that is composed of one very large lecture and one very small tutorial each week. This is the basic welcome-to-Irish-literature course. The first lecture was about theories of nationalism, and the subsequent ones have covered different Irish writers and movements. It's one of those multi-lecturer courses, so I get to experience several different professors. My tutorial, weirdly, has no Irish students in it--we are all internationals, and an English girl is as close as it gets. Come to think of it, we also have no boys. But anyway, my tutor is actually one of the professors for the class and very passionate/engaging about the material. Even though there are only six of us, which would normally make me feel pressured about participating, in some ways it feels really relaxed because...face it, it's a freshman class, and I've never even taken a freshman English class before in my life (I somehow finagled my way into the 300-levels my first year). The pace is several steps back from what I'm used to, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. But we are reading lots of fantastic people, which is a big plus.

The Book: A JS course worth twice the credits of my other classes, another multi-lecturer course. It's about the physical object of the book and how its evolution has affected the way we read and our notions of authorship and audience and stuff. So we learned about medieval manuscripts, and now we are moving on to printed text, and eventually we will even talk about electronic and online texts. One computer lab and one lecture a week. The computer lab part is mostly so we can use all the interactive tools and uploaded manuscripts and stuff. But my casual spying has revealed that many a student is using it as free go-on-Facebook time. Some student tendencies are apparently universal. Comforting and familiar, even across the pond.

Pauline Letters in Context: SF/JF course--the second and third years are combined in the theology department. The department itself is actually pretty small, so there's a kind of friendly coziness to it overall. I think this class has my favorite professor--ironically, an American. The title is pretty self-explanatory, but so far we've discussed letter-writing in the ancient world, 1 and 2 Thessalonians, and now we're moving on to the Corinthians. This class gives me an interesting glimpse of the shift the theology dept here is currently undergoing, as in the past years it has been moving from an almost seminary-like department to a more secular department, or so I'm told. This class seems to be somewhere in between. The professor emphasizes a lot that we are approaching this from a non-devotional perspective, and he pushes for less conservative viewpoints when it comes to stuff like the authorship of the epistles. But at the same time, it feels distinctly different from the way it would be taught at, say, my home school's religion department; content-wise, it's much more what you'd find in a seminary. I also have to adjust to the terminology: I have never heard the words "eschatology," "soteriology," and "ecclesiology" thrown out so many times within one 50 minute period.

Sources, Documents, and Literacy B (Religion and Literature): A JF course that discusses the way religion influences literature and the way literature reflects, promotes, or challenges religion, I guess. I picked this one over the Friday course, and while we're reading some cool stuff like Alexander Pope and Voltaire and Albert Camus, and while I get to discuss philosophy and Kierkegaard and things I wouldn't otherwise discuss, I often feel painfully aware of the fact that this is a class of non-English major freshmen. The first few days of attempting literary analysis felt like I was back in high school with less adept classmates. That sounds harsh, but it's not like I blame these kids; this isn't their field of specialty. But still.

Kingship in Israel: A SF/JS course. A follow up to the previous semester's course "Election in Israel." The professor is pretty cool in an old guy with a gruff voice kind of way. And the class material is really interesting; we're discussing the rise and fall of the monarchy in Old Testament times, and since most of what I've studied in terms of Judaism has been post-Temple and Diaspora, it is kind of interesting to participate in a class that attempts to study OT times from a historical perspective. I've been warned that this guy is very set in his ways about his opinions though, and that if you try to suggest something he doesn't agree with (like the idea that the exodus might actually have happened, which a classmate attempted to propose last semester), he will shut you down. Haha.

And now it's time for Random Pictures to Break Up the Wordiness of this Post. Courtesy of my computer's Photo Booth. [These are actually like two weeks old.]

Me with my faithful Penneys bag. I fold it up and keep it in my bag or purse at all times, because you never know when you will need to go shopping. Grocery bags cost here; reusable is the way to go. Anyway, it is a surprisingly strong and expandable wonder of modern bag-making technology and is regularly used to tote my groceries, books, and clothing purchases. None of this begins to explain why there is a creepy face graphic on the front, though.

Me with Boleslaw. No further explanation necessary.

Best Night So Far

2009-01-30T01:24:00.006Z

If you've been reading my other blog, you know I've been going up and down a bit, emotionally and otherwise. But I am happy to report that tonight I had an undeniably fun night. My best night so far, definitely. It was pretty low-key overall, as I came straight from class and was towing around my school books all night--in other words, it wasn't a primp-to-go-out kind of occasion. I looked as damp and windblown in a sweater and jeans as I always do. But it's the Temple Bar TredFest this weekend, and while the Temple Bar area is usually to be avoided at all costs as something of a haven for drunken tourists, I did a little Temple Bar pub crawling. First with the RAs and a few other girls from my program, and then with a bunch of people I met on my trip to Galway. And some new faces, including a fun Moroccan girl with whom I reminisced about her beautiful homeland. I am so glad I met (and roomed with) these people, because they are the kind who bring the fun to the party, no matter where you go. Seriously.

Drinks in Dublin are painfully expensive, as I've complained before...but on the plus (?) side, a pint on an empty stomach goes to your head a lot more quickly and efficiently than one on a full stomach. As I discovered tonight. I had such a busy day overall with classes and errands that I didn't get to pause for dinner.

At our final stop of the night we ended up memorizing several Irish pub songs and sang along with the musician, a talented old guy who clearly enjoyed having us adoring fans actively participating in his songs. My roommate and I had to leave a little earlier than we would've liked to catch the last train home (boo), but it was still incredible fun overall. Perhaps I should say it was "great craic"? But that is for another post, another time. On talking like the Irish.

Sunday there is a ceili dance going on, and I am excited for that.

Oh yeah. Also. Wednesday night I went to a CU (Christian Union) small group, and it was good. Friendly Irish students.

And I finally registered my immigration status. I am a professonal procrastinator. My deadline was Feb 1, and I had all month to do it. But I did it today. Technically yesterday.

Galway

2009-01-28T13:18:00.007Z

So the promised post on my Galway trip. Except now I'm feeling unmotivated to really write anything about it. But here I go. My roommate Makala and I met up with the other DUISS (International Student Society) trip people at the appointed time, but we took approximately forever to actually get going because in Ireland, people are always late. Actually, we were joking about how we should just leave without the girl who had yet to show up because she didn't deserve to come along if she couldn't come on time. Funny story, at the end of the trip we realized the "late girl" was actually one of our roommates and new friends, without whom the trip would have been far less fun.

Okay. So Friday evening, we finally arrived in Galway after about a 4 hour bus ride. We checked into the hostel as a big, unruly group and somehow sorted ourselves into rooms. M and I ended up with a Lebanese girl, a German girl, a German boy, and a French boy. They all already knew each other but were very friendly about letting us join their group. That night, we went out to a pub, and after the pub closed, a bar. But M and I peaced out a little early because it was actually late and we had to be up way too soon to leave for the Aran Islands.

Saturday morning, bright and early, we drove to the coast and got a ferry to Inis Mor, the biggest of the Aran Islands. The weather was promisingly calm and the skies were blue, although it was cold and a bit windy. I felt a little sickish on the bottom floor, even though it was warm and sheltered, so we headed up to the deck for air. Crazy, windy air. But I felt better. When we got to the island, we got bicycles and proceeded to ride around and take many pictures. Typical. Since the regular bikes were too big for both me and Makala, we ended up finagling our way into the kid bikes, which were bright pink and green. Everyone was jealous, of course. I had been vocally concerned about the fact that I hadn't ridden a bike in a while and was afraid I'd fall off, but it turns out what they say about never forgetting is true. Inis Mor itself is gorgeous. Breathtaking. Incredible. Even after it hailed and the skies turned grey and the wind kicked it up a notch and we ended having a slightly more miserable return trip to the "front" of the island. On the plus side, we had lunch at this little cafe place (the island is basically deserted, so there aren't a lot of options), and it was one of those moments where I was starving and frozen and desperate, and never in my life had hot tomato soup, buttered brown bread, and tea tasted so good. Especially when topped off with a hefty slice of carrot cake.

Pictures:

Blue skies from the ferry. Don't know what this rescue helicopter was doing, but we speculated it was some kind of exercise because they didn't actually do anything.

After the blue skies went away, it was still pretty:

Doesn't it look magical and mysterious!

There's a "stone fort" on Inis Mor with a great view of the water and a little nook for taking pictures like this one:

Saturday evening was spent in the hostel playing card games and Jenga for a few hours, just hanging out with some of our new friends. And pints. Obviously. After that, we went to a bar/club where I fended off gross men (boys?) and got beer splashed on my shoes. All in a day's work, I guess.

Sunday morning we drove to the famous Cliffs of Moher. It's stunning to see, but doesn't take much time because once you've seen them, you've basically seen them. If you know The Princess Bride, the "Cliffs of Insanity" are actually the Cliffs of Moher.

Then we started our return trip to Dublin, stopping at a castle/folk village called Bunratty for another hot meal and a quick tour of the castle. I caught this pretty silhouette while exploring the castle and snapped a few pictures.

And that's it. The rest of a selection of photos can be found here.

A Teaser and Some Princesses

2009-01-26T01:28:00.005Z

I am back from my weekend away; it was a lot of fun, although quite exhausting. The west of Ireland is serenely, indescribably gorgeous, even in the most awful weather (read: three-minute hailstorm!). And I got to spend time with an awesome group of fun, interesting international students--German, French, Russian, Czech, Italian...and American, because we are internationals here, too. Haha. More later. Here is a teaser picture:

And continuing in my tradition of random uploads, here is a picture of homemade chicken and vegetable soup. It was my one healthy-ish meal of the week; I know, terrible. At one point I had a bag of chips, a brownie, and a latte for lunch. I was feeling down and it did the trick as far as lifting my spirits went, but it also made me feel gross afterward.

And the contents of my care package:

-A compilation of loving notes written on Disney princess Valentines:

-Disney princess sippy cups....? I know I'm a little kid at heart, but I'm pretty sure I'm eight, not three. But whatever. You better believe I'll be using free kitchenware. We're a little short on cups, and what else will I drink my...orange juice...from?

-Self-explanatory and MUCH appreciated.

-A highly entertaining book:

-And coloring books. Coloring is actually incredibly stress-relieving, as long as you let go of the notion that you need to stay within the lines. Or maybe that's just me. I've never been that great at coloring in the lines--I'm still not--so I rejected coloring as an activity altogether for a while. It was too stressful. And there was a traumatizing incident in my childhood when I was told I couldn't color with Jeremy, Sofia, and Sofia's neighbor because I wasn't doing it right. I now consider any coloring activity to be emotional rehab.

Time Flies When You're...

2009-01-23T03:06:00.003Z

Finish the sentence. I don't know how. But time flies. It is starting to scare me a little bit. A week has passed since my last Friday and where did that week go? I have no idea.

I'm going on a trip with the Trinity international students society to Galway and the surrounding area this weekend. Joining societies here is brilliant; you pay a 2-3 euro fee, usually, and get incredible benefits. I'm only paying 95 euros for this three day journey, including transportation, lodging, sights, and partial meals. It would easily cost me 200 euros on my own. I also joined the food and drink society, and I get big discounts at some local restaurants.

My roommates and I are tentatively planning a spring break trip to Greece. A little Athens and a lot of Santorini, if everything works out. Santorini as in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants land. It won't be high season so it won't be as warm and pretty, most likely, but it will still be amazing, if it works.

I also got a stunner of a care package today. I went in to speak with an IES staff because she wanted to check up on how I was doing and adjusting after all the turmoil of the past few weeks, which was really kind of her/the staff in general. I am waiting to see how my emotions stabilize in the next week or so, but I am contemplating seeing a bereavement counselor or therapist (covered by my insurance here) if I feel overwhelmed, which she also suggested. It can't hurt. Anyway, while I was there, I got my package. I would take pictures, but I'm exhausted. (It's 3 AM, and my roommates and I have been up planning travel for...many hours.) So maybe later. Just trust me, it was incredible.

I will end with two shoutouts:

1. Emily and my WCF friends, who have shown me so much love, even across the ocean. You are wonderful and your notes brought me to both smiles and tears.

2. My grandma, who is reading this and emailed me as a form of private comment. Hi, Halmoni. I love you and miss you.

I'm going to bed. Meanwhile, someone tell the hands of time to slow down a little. Thanks.

More Grief

2009-01-19T17:17:00.003Z

My grandfather passed away last night. I'll refer you to here for more. It was expected, but still painful. I really do hate being far from home and my parents for these things.

I find I have run out of words at the moment.

I'm going to grab a bite to eat, I guess.

Recent Events

2009-01-17T22:33:00.000Z

For the sake of my health and sanity, I have been taking everything one day at a time, not concerning myself with much beyond the agenda for the day. And it's been working, as far as achieving some restfulness goes. But here's a rundown of the past few days.

Thursday:

-Finally got my registration turned in. A huge relief because it was such a process getting all these signatures and coordinating unreliable office hours.

-Bought cheap boots--so I can finally fit in with the rest of Dublin. I have several pairs that I left at home because they'd take up too much room in the suitcase, giving me a perfect excuse to shop. After observing Dublin (and especially Trinity) fashion a bit, I found exactly what I was looking for at Penneys, which is like a cross between a Target and a Wal-Mart. I also bought these weird tie-up boots that my good friend has because she bought them when she was studying in Ireland over the summer. I found them on clearance, they remind me of her, and I was in a kind of homesick state at the time. Which seems like a silly reason to buy shoes, but they were cheaper than some sandwiches around here, so I figured what the heck. And they're quite warm.

-Hit up the Moore Street market for some cheap, fresh produce. Definitely worth it. I can't say for sure that the vegetables and fruits are fresher than those in grocery stores, but the prices are unbeatable (i.e. 1 euro for a bag of potatoes, 1 euro for five bell peppers. Currently 1 euro = $1.33 and falling).

-Made a REAL dinner, finally: balsamic chicken (with red peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic), mashed potatoes, and barely-cooked-broccoli with salt and pepper, the way I like it and the way my mommy does it.

-Went to the Trinity Christian Union meeting and loved it. After the main meeting we had tea and biscuits (aka cookies) and just kind of hung out. Everyone was way friendly and I had pretty much zero awkward standing-by-myself moments; instead, I got to participate in lots of great conversation--I talked to people about everything from art galleries in the US to the pronunciation of Irish names, something that always puzzles me. And as a bonus, two people engaged in a very brief dance-off to vie for my attendance at their small groups. Very brief because one girl spilled tea on her hand and therefore technically lost (but I'm really going to decide based on scheduling). I was then invited to watch Bride Wars with some of the girls the next night, but I already had plans.

-People in Ireland really are more friendly than people anywhere else, even in the city. And it's starting to rub off on me. Whereas usually I am the kind of person who never talks to strangers unless absolutely necessary, and I don't even like asking salespeople for help because I'm too stranger-shy, I stopped by at a convenience store to pick up some postcards on my way back home and got into this whole discussion with the clerks, who were both South Asian immigrants, about living in America and foreign policy. Random.

Friday:

-Went on a very brief scavenger hunt with IES that ended on the upper floor of a little pub where they provided us with food and free drinks. Discovered a new favorite drink! It's Bulmer's cider. And it is delicious. But don't worry, I'm not turning into an alcoholic over here. The only times I have had anything to drink so far have been when it was free. Not a common occurrence, especially now that orientation events are officially over. And drinks, like everything in Dublin, are way expensive.

-Went to the Trinity dance society's weekly ballroom class with my flatmate. Learned the Viennese waltz which was kind of lame because unless you do it right, it's just awful, and that really depends on what partner you end up with. But then we learned the jive, and it. Was. Awesome. Ridiculous amounts of fun. Learn the jive. That is all.

Saturday:

-Visited the Guinness storehouse with my flatmates. That meant braving the intense, torrential downpour and winds to walk about the city. I thought I knew what "blustery" meant, but I really didn't until I experienced this day. About 1o seconds after walking out of my apartment building, my legs were soaked straight to the bone and my jeans were several shades darker than they were when I put them on. Umbrellas are out of the question in this kind of wind, as they flip inside out immediately. It's so strong that if it blows against me, I nearly fall over, but if it blows in the same direction as me, it forces my feet into a little run. Miserable.

Funny shot from the storehouse tour--a quote from a doctor explaining why "Guinness is good for you" (an old ad campaign):

At the top of the storehouse is the "Gravity Bar" where you get a fantastic 360 degree view of the city...and a free pint of Guinness, of course. I opted for a half-pint because Guinness is not really my thing, just like coffee's not really my thing, either. They have a similar deep, woody bitterness that I just don't like. But my friends still laughed at me for my comparatively baby-sized glass. Or should I say me-sized glass?

-After an afternoon/evening of Guinness, we trekked back to the flat, where I immediately peeled off my wet socks, shoes, and jeans and traded them for sweats and slippers. Mmmm. Then I had a light dinner of cheese, crackers, grapes, and several mugs of hot tea. All is well, now.

Other random pictures I retrieved from my point and shoot just now:

Mocha from Bewley's Cafe on Grafton Street (this was from my first few days here, before I came home):

And a so-so apple tart:

The sunset I stopped to shoot on my walk to the grocery store Thursday evening:

My flatmate's first attempt to bake cookies without readily available chocolate chips. We chopped up Cadbury bars instead, and they turned out deliciously:

A random shot of my bed, including a duvet set I got for super cheap at Penneys and Boleslaw:

Random, but here's a picture from Christmas, when Elliott was mocking the Asian picture pose in the J. Crew hoodie I gave him:

And just because I can, here's my dad doing the same thing in the sweater I got him. He is usually wary of my camera because he is afraid everything will end up on Facebook. This doesn't count, though, right?

Miss you all. Tomorrow I will go to church, do some reading for class, research volunteering opportunities, and write some letters/postcards. If you requested one, you will receive one soon. If you haven't requested anything but you want one, tell me. As always.

Why No Pictures?

2009-01-14T21:48:00.002Z

There is a specific and depressing reason I haven't been posting pictures, and I will tell you.

But first, you have to PROMISE not to judge, mock, hate me or rain check me for death (because you clearly can't kill me in any immediate way). This goes especially for my brother, when he hears this news. PROMISE!

Sigh.

I don't want to admit it aloud (or in print), but here goes.

That beautiful, wonderful, amazing camera that my brother gave me secondhand for Christmas that I'd just started learning how to use? The high-tech one that was making me actually care about composition and exposure? Yeah. I left that priceless object in my taxi the morning I arrived here. Thursday. I realized it about an hour later, as I'd been dropped off straight at the IES (my study abroad org) centre and had a million things to do since I got here late. I was juggling several luggage items, and I had carried my camera separately from my backpack this time around in the hopes of giving my back some relief, and I stupidly did not put it around my neck in the cab because I wanted to give my neck relief (who needs neck relief?!). Not that I'm blaming anything but myself. There was no excuse.

Another sigh.

In the hopes that the camera has miraculously NOT been stolen by another passenger or even the driver, I've been calling the Garda carriage office, where all lost property found in taxis is supposed to go, almost everyday. The camera wasn't even labeled in any way, and neither was the bag. Another way in which hindsight reveals my stupidity.

I can't really think about it too long without wanting to punch myself in the face (I exaggerate...but only a little), so I have been avoiding discussing the topic...I've also been vainly hoping it will turn up because Ibelieveinmagic (or even miracles), so I've been avoiding pulling out my point and shoot. In other words, I have not been photo-documenting my life here of late.

The only consolation I have right now is that I "just" lost the camera and the one lens, which wasn't even the original kit lens, so it was actually nice. But I didn't have the telephoto one with me, and while I grabbed the macro at the last second, I had it packed separately. Boo.

Um. Anyway, to conclude this thoroughly depressing post, I will show you a few of the shots I did manage to take (which is several hundred, in truth). As I do not have Photoshop and I am too lazy to learn how to use Gimp at the moment, I was originally just going to post them straight out of the camera. But I ended up straightening some of them in iPhoto, which led me to do a few other minor adjustments, and as a result, almost none of these are straight out of the camera, but they all look better than they did, so.

Oh. Last note. I'm not even going to pretend like I think any of these shots are particularly "good." But they're definitely better than what would be coming out of my Canon PowerShot. And for some reason the modified ones aren't all uploading properly, so click the link at the end to see them for real.

Dear old Molly Malone:

St. Stephen's Green Shopping Centre:

The River Liffey at night:

More (and better) images can be found here.

Placeholder Post

2009-01-14T20:13:00.003Z

I picked a free Friday in the end. Actually, I picked it that night, and again the next morning as I contemplated the dilemma on my walk to the Luas. But somehow between that walk and several hours later, when I went to get my registration form signed by all the appropriate people, it turned into a dilemma again, and I had to make all these pro-con charts and sit around anxiously trying to decide. I am so indecisive, people. But there were lots of factors involved, not all of which I explained in the post because I was feeling lazy.

I talked to my mom on the phone briefly today. She and my dad actually left me the funniest voicemail message--it was my mom talking, but I could hear my dad in the background making fun of her the whole time, and she kept interrupting herself to tell him to stop. Classic. Annnyway, I assured my mom I would eat healthily becuase I am a grownup who knows how to watch her diet.

Guess what I ate for dinner? A buttery, grilled, cheddar cheese-and-fried egg sandwich. So deliciously unhealthy. However, I added a salad and an orange, which cancel out the bad calories. Obviously.

Oh goodness. I can't believe I am telling you what I ate for dinner. Sorry. My goal was to post infrequently here to make it less bore-your-socks-off and more tantalizing to read.

We'll just consider this post a placeholder post, okay? There's another real one coming. With pictures. It's almost there.

Oh, and I'm going to London with my roommates in a few weeks, for sure. Yay.

Dilemma

2009-01-12T21:15:00.004Z

The weather today was beautiful--no sign of the predicted drizzle. As I walked to the Luas station this morning beneath blue skies, soft breezes, and birdsong, the air damp and smelling fresh, I felt a touch of déjà vu for a few seconds. I actually hate that feeling because it makes me spend so much of my time reaching hopelessly into the recesses of my brain. But I felt both displaced and completely at home.

Anyway, on to my dilemma. My current planned schedule, which I have to confirm tomorrow with various department heads, has one class too many on it. Which is fine in terms of workload; I'm not particularly worried about that. But if I cut one, it will probably be my one Friday class. Then I would have an extra-long weekend. Perfect for spontaneous traveling.

Except I really want to take the class. Theological Cosmology and Anthropology. I'm trying to convince myself it will be really boring, which it very well might be. But the course description is so tantalizing. It's the only theory class theoretically (ha) on my plate; the others are either textual or historical. And while I will never again be living in Europe with a full three-day weekend, I will also never have the chance to take this class or anything like it. Unless I go to seminary, which I might, but not any time soon.

And I can't test it out, because my final registration is due on Friday, and the class starts Monday. It's awkwardly timed because the Religions and Theology department has already transitioned to a semester system while the rest of the school is on trimester (they're switching over next year).

So it's a trade-off. If I don't take the class, I still might not travel enough to balance it out, and then I might just be really bored on Fridays.

?? I'll have to work it out by tomorrow. Even though the form is due Friday, until I turn it in, I don't have access to stuff for the rest of my classes. One of which has almost all the reading material on Blackboard.

Lazy Sunday

2009-01-11T23:04:00.000Z

I meant to do some church exploration today in the form of a morning service at one church and an evening service at another...but I only ended up going to the evening one. I slept too late. Ha.

Woke up in time to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, get dressed, and brave my first day of Dublin rain and insane wind to head into the city centre. Wandered a bit. Picked up a few necessities from the shopping list (a loofah, a calendar). Puzzled over the lack of divided notebooks in Ireland and failed to actually buy school supplies because I was annoyed about it. Eventually found my way to church (got lost only twice along the way). Realized I was an hour early and turned around. Stopped in for a light dinner at the delectably and perfect Queen of Tarts. Retraced my steps and made my way to church here, which a friend told me about almost a year ago.

The building is gorgeous. I know buildings aren't supposed to matter, but when they look like this, they do. It's a couple hundred years old but was redone on the inside a decade ago.

The service was nice but kind of mellow--contemporary music and a tad charismatic, which was surprising since I think the church is technically Church of Ireland (Anglican); I am going to check out their morning service next week to get a feel for the difference. Evening services are appealing as far as not having to wake up in the morning goes, and it's also good news for traveling on the weekends because I'd likely be back by Sunday evening. But it's mostly students and young people, and I miss having kids around. Everyone I met was super friendly, though, and there were a surprising number of Australians/New Zealanders. And a group invited me out to a late dinner at a local pub with them, which was really nice even though I obviously didn't eat. I got to chat with some very cool, interesting people (I'm sorry, I'm sleepy and all the flavorful adjectives are escaping me, if you can't tell).

Two of the girls (women?) I was talking to told me they avoided the morning service in part because it was so chaotic and family-oriented; apparently, once a month, the children are a part of the service and the first few songs are actually led by the children's director. They laughed when I explained I'd be right at home in that kind of environment. I always miss my kids when I'm away.

There's another church I wanted to check out especially as well, and I'm not sure if I will or not yet (maybe their evening service next week, and I'll make next Sunday a two-service Sunday since I failed today). The downside to attending a different church or the morning service is that I wouldn't get to hang out with all the awesome people I met tonight, though. Sad face.

When I came back to my apartment (after a kind of creepy but mostly sad conversation with a drunk old guy on the tram), my roommates had baked a cake. Just for fun. I like them.

Squashed

2009-01-11T07:10:00.000Z

Looking forward into the next five months is actually making me feel rather temporally claustrophobic. (Pretend that makes sense and just work with me, here.) Five months is a long time, but it isn't a long time. And there's such a long list of basic must-dos to deal with:

-Must finish registering for classes and figuring out all that junk. It's a massive, disorganized headache of a system.
-Must find a church to join
-Must join clubs and societies and actually do stuff with other students
-Must start pushing myself to "go out" because spending my nights in, as comforting as it has been, is beginning to feel so lame and antisocial
-Must make outside friends
-Must work out my weekend and break travel schedule
-Must buy potatoes, onions, garlic, tomatoes, and chicken stock
-Must register my immigration status with the Garda (police)
-Must find all my "favorite spots" in the city and enjoy them
-Must find a place to volunteer at least a little of my time
-Must make sure I have breathing time to write...a lot

Are those all really musts? No. Some of them are--like registering with the Garda immigration bureau. I could get in some serious trouble for not doing that. Same with registering for classes. But the rest of it really amounts to my anxiety that goes something like this: "I must have a good, social, and enjoyable time that I will not regret spending all this energy and money on." I mean, duh.

Here's what I really want: I want to stay balanced.

Balanced in time and energy. Balanced in emotion. Balanced in my bank account. Balanced with regards to my American and non-American friends.

And I want to spend less time forcing something out of my experience and more time just...experiencing it. The wind that numbed my fingers inside my gloves today. The too-expensive but totally delectable gourmet hot chocolate I bought to warm them. The awkward pauses in conversation with someone I just met and have very little in common with.

Anyway, in more specific news, I spent the majority of my Friday being lost and panicked as I navigated the tricky administrative and geographical waters of my new school. Trinity's a huge institution, but thankfully its campus is pretty compressed, because that means when I get lost I don't lose too much time (though damp cobblestone is killer to walk on, even in sneakers, and doesn't help my cause for efficiency). Still, everything about being at a new school awkwardly in the "middle" of the year (but really 1/3 of the way through) brings out the worst in me. High-pitched babbling, flustered wandering, stretching up onto tiptoe all the time to feel less invisible. I am definitely not that self-assured, self-sufficient girl who walks around a new place like she owns it, although I've met a couple of those. Jealous. I'm more that crazy-eyed, confused girl who walks around a new place like she's terrified it will explode. So really, I just want this phase to be over. I hated it in my first days at high school, when my building felt huge and the student body felt foreign and clique-ish. I hated it in my first days at college. And I'm not exactly enjoying it here, either.

I am, however, enjoying all the bookstores--both the big chain stores and the little secondhand shops--that make me feel at home. I stopped in (another) one today with my roommates to pick up a few textbooks, and just wandering through the place, running my hand along the bargain tables and surrounded by shelves and shelves of my best friends, I got that warm, heady feeling you get when you're hanging around books. Not even reading them. Just spending time in their presence. Maybe that's just me. But. And the nicest old guy at the store went all out of his way to help me when I stood browsing and made an offhand request for a book. It turns out the object in question (a Lady Gregory play recommended by my grandfather) is basically out of print, but the book man was very helpful about finding that out for me. I am going to have to library it up for that one, but that is fine. The Trinity library (not this one, although I wish I could just check out books there) is marvelous.

I think bookstores are the only place that never feel completely foreign and scary to me when they are new.

That's all for now.

No, wait! One more thing. I've been ridiculously neat the past few days. Putting clothes away and stuff. I know, WHAT. Although my jacket's on the floor right now, but if I go hang it up in the hall, that doesn't count, right? AND. I've been getting ready like a real person in the morning. You know. Real clothes. Makeup. Hair product. Even jewelry. Unheard of. Okay, it's only been two days. But still. Anyone want to take bets on how long any of this will last?

Back

2009-01-09T06:20:00.000Z

That last post feels like it was a million years ago. I did have a fabulous day, and I visited several bookstores, ate lunch at a small soup place, took lovely pictures of Grafton Street (the famous pedestrian shopping street) at night, all lit up by Christmas lights. And I meant to come back here and tell you all about it, but life got in the way something huge.

That night I came back to my hostel and got the devastating news that my cousin had been killed in a car accident. Instead of enjoying the city some more, I ended up buying tickets to come home and spent the next day wandering the city in a cold daze, taking pictures of a Gaza demonstration and slipping into a megaplex to watch Bedtime Stories alone. Anything to keep my mind off...things.

But after a draining several days at home, I have returned to the city I just started to fall in love with last week. I love it as much as ever, and I think it's going to be a good semester. It was sunny today, although freezing. Everyone I interacted with was incredibly nice. My roommates are wonderful. My apartment is...

Amaaaaazing! I doubt I will ever live in such a nice apartment again. Even when I'm a self-sufficient adult. It's in a village-turned-suburb a little ways from the city, but the rail system is straightforward and nice, and I get reimbursed by my program for fares. The flat is fairly new and huge. There's a washer in the kitchen (no laundry fees! my budget's getting looser and looser). Gorgeous kitchen and living room. Nice bathroom. Pictures eventually, I'm sure.

Anyway, I'm quite tired still. All I did today was have a brief private orientation and unpack, and afterwards I went to a big orientation dinner with other students. I think I said probably 5 words in my first hour among company, and then I found myself loosening up (the free pint of Murphy's might have helped. But don't worry--I drank it very slowly over the course of the meal, which took three and a half hours to complete. I was falling asleep in my creme brulee by the time it was over--jet lag didn't help my cause). Interesting because I am usually kind of uptight in new environments. My college friend made fun of me once by describing her first impression of me, explaining that I was really quiet for a few days, and then one day I opened my mouth, started talking...and never stopped.

So we'll see how "getting to know people" works out. Tomorrow I have to start registering for classes, which technically started on Monday, and wading through administrative details.

Don't Worry, I'm Alive

2009-01-02T12:34:00.000Z

Disoriented, but alive. Yesterday was spent...wandering around in circles, trying to pretend like I had some sense of "bearings" to get straight, and also sleeping. Dublin is a charming city, but everything was closed because it was New Year's, so I'm out for round two in a minute. Plus, there's a bit of sunshine this morning that I want to take advantage of. Yesterday was all clouds, all day.

Traveling alone is...an adventure. I'm not hating it, though. Although I think I would prefer to have a friend. But just one.

Hunger calls. I'm going to find lunch.

Contact Me. Do It.

2008-12-31T05:42:00.000Z

If you are fairly certain that you will not be keeping up with this blog because blogs aren't your thing, but you don't necessarily find me incredibly boring, and/or you would like to receive regular emails, occasional letters, or a postcard or two, email me (with your mailing address, if applicable), and I will do my best. You can still request letters or postcards even if you do intend to read this thing. I won't judge.

Also, Skype me! If you want my Skype username, email me as well.

Possibly pertinent: the time difference between here (EST) and there is 5 hours, as in, they are five hours ahead.

Where What Why

2008-12-30T23:36:00.000Z

I realize I haven't done an introductory post that actually explains where I'm going/what I'm doing/why I'm doing it. So here!

Where: Dublin, Ireland

What: A semester (actually, two trimesters) at Trinity College Dublin through IES

Why: Oy. There was a lot of debating and hand-wringing that went into choosing Ireland, then Dublin, then Trinity. But in short: I love Irish culture (hence the Irish dancing in my spare time), mostly because I find it very accessible, but also because I love the folk music and the large role it still has in everyday culture, less so the alcohol but I can get over that, and Irish people are rumoured to be quite friendly, which will be invaluable if I'm going to survive a new environment without getting hopelessly lost. As in literally, physically lost. The other deciding factor was that I only wanted to be abroad for a semester, and therefore wanted to go somewhere where language assimilation wouldn't be an issue. My only fluent-enough languages are Spanish and English, but I couldn't go to a Spanish-speaking culture without taking at least one Spanish class at my college, and I didn't want to waste a class on that. So English-speaking it was.

Oh, and I'm an English major. And as we all know, many great writers have emerged from Ireland and/or Dublin, and many of them graduated from Trinity...like W.B. Yeats, Jonathan Swift, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, Edmund Burke, Seamus Heaney, and Bono.

That was long. Sorry.

Anway, I have to pack. Still. More. Exciting news: my curling iron is dual voltage, so I can take it with me. Not so much my hairdryer, but let's be real, how often do I blowdry my hair. You know you care.

HelloGoodbye

2008-12-28T06:14:00.000Z

Hellloooooo friends.

Inaugural blog post, yay.

So, while I tend to be a very faithful blogger, as over-informed readers of my personal blog know, I am interested to see how this one pans out. Will I want to spend copious amounts of time on the Internet when I am frolicking in foreign cities? For your sake, let's hope yes, at least a little bit. Anyway, I leave for Dublin on Wednesday and, surprise, surprise, I haven't started packing. And by that I mean...I haven't even finished unpacking. From school. I got home two weeks ago. Shut up.

Uhh that is about all I have to say right now.

Oh, wait, and this: first person to correctly identify what movie my blog title is referencing gets 52 coolness points. I keep track.