My Palace

As promised, the beautiful 35 Mountjoy Square, the home of famous Irish playwright Sean O'Casey (please ooo and ahhh accordingly).

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Ann and I had spent the day with our books- a dance break at midnight was completely necessary... as were spatulas.

Girlfriends

"It's hard to find people that love you no matter what... I've found three of them."

Halloween makes me miss my girlfriends.

In part, this is due to the fact that October 30th is Kritter's birthday and we always celebrate like great friends do; however its also because this is the first Halloween in years that I have not celebrated with Coll, Jenny, and Krit.

Last year it was the party at McFaddens, our first "grown up" Halloween as 21 year olds. In previous years it was random La Salle parties- drunken chaos, but truly a fabulous time.

These three ladies and I are war buddies- the kind of friends that are with you through thick and thin, but are not afraid to call you on your shit. We have been there for each other through some of the most difficult moments in each others lives: lost lovers, lost friends, new beginnings, old ghosts, broken bones, and broken hearts. Memories I wouldn't trade for the world.

Its these experiences that have cemented these friends into my heart...

Happy Halloween Girls!

Crazy/ Beautiful

"You know this coffee is liquid acid."

This morning we procrastinated by cleaning the flat, making the world's strongest coffee, downloading pictures, perfecting foreign accents, looking up cults, and mimicking our neighbor's tendency to obnoxiously hock a loogie. A dance party in the living room (or La Chez O'Casey) is soon to follow.

Best roomie ever?!?!?!

Fallen

I fell in love last night... I fell head-over-heels in love with, in the words of Stephen Sondheim, "the most beautiful sound I ever heard." It was the music of the great cellist Steven Isserlis.

His fingers were magical and the sound was intoxicating; I was completely hypnotized- a woman possessed. He played Brahms and Strauss- if I close my eyes I can still feel the sounds vibrating in my chest. It was brilliant- I am in love with that cello.

If you have an inclination for classical music, or even if you don't, go immediately to his concerts and buy his CDs. He is perfection.

Garda Garda Garda

I spent the morning at the ZOO that is the Irish Immigration Office. It was a complete madhouse- something I would liken to Ellis Island in the 18th century- Ellis Island with mobile phones.
I followed the multilingual crowd over to the funny little box that prints out your number- it wasn't working. Enter disgruntled employee; "THIS way Miss." Number 479. What number were they on? #143. For fucks sake. Two cups of coffee and one trashy magazine later, #269. As the clock ticked I watched random children screaming at the top of their lungs, pulling on my jeans, and spilling my coffee, I wondered when it was exactly that parents lost all control? One little charmer picked his nose and tried to wipe it on my brown sweater-- I promptly moved my seat. I sat down next to a pleasant looking young woman. "What number you?" Pardon? She handed me a peice of paper- Wonka's Golden Ticket- #346. THANKYOU THANKYOU THANKYOU! Less than 100 to go.
At this point the youngsters have taken the place over. About a half dozen monsters have formed a body pile on the floor and continuously naw on eachother like lion cubs(whoever buys that creation bullshit should spend an afternoon in an Immigration office). I actually saw one little girl lick the floor-- hoof and mouth disease, I thought to myself. Enjoy.
The keeper of two of these children picked them and drag them over to the bench next to me; I smiled politely as her son pinched my leg and her daughter tried to go through my purse.
"Where are you from?"
The States.
"I'm from Nigeria."
Ah yes, I've always wanted to go to Africa.
"Are you married?"
No, not married.
"You should marry my brother. Marry an African."
No, I have a boyfriend, thanks.
"You come to Nigeria, eat good meaty food, you and my brother move to the States."
#300. The matchmaker disappears leaving me with Pincher and the Klepto. A little boy nearby has hijacked a stroller and is running over my feet along with everyone elses... again. And again. HEY! KNOCK IT OFF! Where the fcuk are his parents? Surely a kid too young for complete sentences should not be given a stroller. The Matchmaker returns and collects her kids, so I move again. A Middle Eastern gentleman soon sits next to me.
"Are you married?"
Yes, as a matter of fact I am.
#346!
THANK GOD.

Comedy of Errors

Since I arrived in Dublin I feel like my life has sort of become a sitcom, not as touchy feely as Full House or as edgy as Curb Your Enthusiam, but a sitcom nonetheless.

It began the moment my plane landed on the Emerald Isle, and I had to concern myself with dragging two 70+ lb. suitcases, a back pack, and a lap top through the streets of Dublin. The first person I spoke to was kind enough to ask if I needed help with my bags, and then rude enough to as if it was true that all American girls were easy (I carried my bags myself). The second person wanted to know how familiar I was with the drug culture in America. *Sigh* The ever-comical Accomodation Advisory Service soon followed, which always opened late, closed early, and did little advising or serving. Then it was the Great Flat Hunt, i.e. the worst fucking week of my life, where I spent loads of money carting my arse all over the city looking at shitty flats that smelled of curry and house shares that wanted nothing to do with an American (thank you, Dubya). By the end of the week, however, I met Ann, a girl from Ohio with on the most infectious laughs I have ever heard. We became partners in crime, apartment hunting all hours of the day and night, and bitching about Trinity over pints of Guinness. Our hard work eventually paid off and we found the perfect flat... ofcourse it was only after we moved in that we found our landlords underwear under the sink and realized that we live a few blocks from a prison- funny the details that get left out of the open house.

Things have been settling down a bit with the start of classes, though I found myself wondering daily if Ireland is the new stage for Larry David's latest work. There was the financial aid officer who has been hiding my loan check, and the old man on the street who pulled me aside and said, "For fucks sake you dont need a mobile- the whole city of Dublin can hear you." Where do these people come from?!?

With material like this, who needs the tele?

Only in Ireland

You know you're in Ireland when...

10. you wait in line for everything!

9. young Irish lads ask if its true that American girls are easy.

8. you go to a University thats owned by a Queen and down the street from a castle.

7. you have to be concerned about whether the cobblestones will tear up your heels.

6. Gerry Adams is compared to Gandhi.

5. alcohol is essential at all school functions.

4. your sports teams have more parties a week than practices.

3. people can say my last name properly and can tell by looking at me that I have Cork connections.

2. you have a cultural monument that looks like a syringe and is referred to as "The Stiletto in the Ghetto".

1. you get discounts on post for being "the most Irish looking American girl I have ever seen."

In Dublin's Fair City...

So my first week in Dublin has been a nightmare, so much that at more than one point I considered flying home, but yesterday my luck began to change.

When I arrived I had temporary accomodation at Trinity for a week, but they were throwing us international students out on Friday morning (how nice of them) so I had 5 days to come up with a flat or some sort of accomodation. It was completely insane- everywhere I looked there were lines out the door- there are just not words to convey the stress of the situation. But FINALLY, last night, my new friend Ann and I found an adorable two bedroom right in the heart of the city. It is absolutely perfect and I am thrilled.

I also had orientation which was fabulous- I LOVE LOVE LOVE the International Peace Studies program. I dont know what my concentration is going to be yet, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. Classes start Monday and I am pumped!

So tomorrow I move into my new place and can begin to relax and enjoy Dublin. Jared has his flight booked, and the fam should be visiting over Thanksgiving... things are FINALLY looking up!

**More news from across the pond to come soon!**