It's been over a week since my last post, I know. The hard part about keeping a blog, I'm discovering is that I have to put time and energy into it that I often would rather use to explore and experience. I don't want to spend my whole trip writing about my trip, you see? In the time since my last post, I have visited Blarney Castle and kissed the requisite rock, found myself cast in the leading role of Bertolt Brecht's The Good Person of Schezwan and began to settle into the rhythms of my classes and life in this vibrant city. I have decided that I very much like it here--Cork is very much a water city, fluid and sassy, where I think St. Paul (where I was raised) is more of an earth city, despite that it sits on a river.

I spluged just a little bit this week. I purchased a pair of tall black boots and several scarves to dress up my wardrobe a little bit. A lot of the women here get very dressed up when they go out: tall boots, scarves, short skirts, skinny jeans, and lots of make-up. I don't have the skinny jeans or short skirt, but I think the boots and the scarves help me blend in a bit more and they're fun to wear. I found a ridiculous Australia scarf at a thrift shop and I'm rather proud of it.

I finished my book this afternoon: American Gods by Neil Gaiman. This is probably my favorite book. I've read it about once a year for the past five or six years now and every single time I catch new things, new concepts, subtleties, and allusions. It's a richly woven cloth, a tapestry that is beautiful at the microscopic and holistic levels. I actually read the acknowledgements at the back this time around and realized that Gaiman finished the book in Kinsale, which is not too far from Cork. It was striking the cyclical nature of that. The last image of the story too, stuck with me in a different way, made me think that perhaps all Americans, at one degree of another, are perhaps wanderers, that pehaps I belong to a nation of homeless people and that I am simply doing what Americans have been doing for centuries (and perhaps do best): wandering and journeying. It was a strange moment, empty and fufilling and grim and proud all at once.

The last few days have beena whirlwind, so I apologize (to all four of you who read my blog) that I haven't posted in the last few days. I went to orientation at UCC on Monday (BOR-ing! Zzzzzz......) and began trying out classes/modules yesterday. I found out that I probably will be able to take a theatre production class, which is joyous, but have to settle for my second choise for a theology credit. But I should be able to finish all of my general graduation requirements for my home institution this semester, which leaves me free to focus on my major next year.

Op, my dinner's done, so I'll finish this in a few.

LATER..................................................................>

There are so many birds here that I've never seen before. Seagull and pidgeons (HUGE pidgeons) yes, but there is also some kind of seagull-like tern, all sorts of crow-like birds that I think might be rooks, but there are so many varieties. There's another crow-like bird that has white on its wings and belly, and when walking to campus today I saw these enormous water birds diving for fish in the Lee. They were like herons of eagrets, but larger and much sturdier with big curved bills. After diving, they would fly to the tops of the tallest trees on the banks and sun their wings to dry out. I was reminded of how vultures are depicted in Egyptian tomb paintings their wings widespread to soak up the sun.

That's all for tonight. The UCC student union is holding a party for the visiting students tonight and I've got to go get all prettified! Well, as prettified as I can get while living out of a suitcase.

Sunshine!

I could not believe it--I pulled back the drapes in my living room this morining and the sun was shining. Not the feeble light obscured by thin grey clouds, but full-on warm yellow light with blue skies and white, puffy cumuli. The air was still cold enough that I could see my breath, but the sun was out and the river was high. Nevertheless, I very much wanted to sleep into the afternoon, but I had things to do today. I went and put 5 euro's worth of minutes on my phone, and then Karissa (my roommate), Mayra, and I went and got some groceries for the week. Orientation tomorrow, and that's going to come way too early. We have to BE at UCC by 9.30 or so, and I've been waking up after 10.00 everyday so far. Of course, I don't plan on going out to the pubs tonight, so it might be a litle bit easier.

Oh, pubs! I have not yet made record of my pub experiences. Friday night the MN crew went to the Fransican Well, a small joint across the river from our building (I can see it from the couch). The main bar was in doors, but most of the pub was actually in the adjacent courtyard. There were large tents and canopies stung over the courtyard and heatlamps affixed to the poles, and because it technically was out-of-doors, people were smoking. Clever little bypass of the smoking ban. The Well was also its own brewery, which was pretty neat. I tried the stout, which was good, and the lager, which I didn't have a taste for. I think I might be a dark beer person. Light beers always taste sour to me.

Last night, we went to a different pub, the Old Oak, down on Grand Parade. It was much bigger and much better lit than the Well (probably because all the oak reflected the light), but it was absolutely stuffed to the gills full of people. I must be a popular hang-out because I counted at least three different bar counters, each with two tills, all of them in separate rooms (I had my first Guinness in an Irish pub). Everyone in our group was surprised by the sheer range of the patrons' ages. There were kids who barely 18 up to people in their 60s or so, and everyone but us was dressed up and put together. Oops (mental note, next time dress as if going to the club or a theater). In the U.S, there really is no unspoken dress code and there are separate places for young people, middle-aged people, and older people. Except we inadvertently tried to get into a 23-plus pub, so I guess somethings never change regardless of what side of the Altantic you're on. What really set the Oak apart from the Well, though, was that it had space for musicians that was being used as a dance floor, and the kid DJ-ing looked like he was too young to even get into the pub himself. We had a blast dancing the night away, even though we were obviously underdressed and American.

Tomorrow brings with it a new week and a start to a more permanent rhythm of living. I'm excited to meet the students at UCC and register for my classes. I think it'll take a lot of getting used to, but so did high school, so did work, so did college. But for the moment, I'll satisfy myself by eating supper, doing the dishes, taking a shower and watching one of the 4 television channels we get.

A funny thing happened last night: Karissa and I were watching National Treasure on RTE One before we went out last night and it was very bizarre. I just sat there wondering what the movie would be like if I wasn't an American, because the whole premise is centered around American history and similarly patriotic themes. Would it be even more of an Indiana Jones knock-off? Or simply a showcase of Nicholas Cage, the Super-Tool? Hmm.......things to ponder.........

Not gonna write much this evening. I'm pretty tired as we were out late last night and probably will be out late again tonight. Oreintation at UCC is on Monday, so tomorrow should be pretty low-key and if I'm not feeling too lazy, then I'll throw up a longer post. We'll see how it goes. Anyway, pretty much the entire group from my U.S. univeristy is here and people seem to be getting along pretty well. We've been sleeping pretty late (I'm still a little jetlagged, but I don't feel it unless I'm tired. Like now.), but in the afternoons we go out and explore in small or large groups. Some of us found the UCC campus today on a nice roundabout walk through a park and next to the river. The campus is all gated up right now, but it was a nice walk nonetheless and we ended up across the Lee from our apartment. So we could have, if we had known, just crossed the river and turned left and been on campus. The irony was not lost upon us.

I purchased some tea, milk, and sugar today and made myself a cup of tea. It was very nice, a little stronger and sharper than what I'm used to (I'm a rooibos junkie). I was delighted to find that Dunnes sold milk in tiny single-pint plastic cartons. I'm not a big milk-drinker, so it was perfect for me (and at 59 cent, how can I lose?). Speaking of purchases, I need to head down to the Meteor shop and top-up the minutes on my cell, er mobile, phone. A bunch of people went there today, but somehow I missed them. I've only got about 2 euro left, which are left over from the woman who I bought it off of.

That's all I have to say tonight, and since my spelling is getting atrocious this is me, signing off.
Cheers!

Catch-up, with Mustard and Mayonaise

I made it! I am writing this post from my apartment in Cork on my second full day in Ireland. It's stil a bit unreal yet and at the same time hyper-real, but amazing at every step. It's a relief to be living in a city again where everything is within walking distance and there's so much to see and explore. I've spent the last few days wandering around and getting lost and figuring out how best to live off of 20 euro a day.

My trip over here went pretty smoothly. I left Minneapolis on Tuesday, the 30th in the middle of a snowstorm. They had to spray the plane down with anti-freeze before we took off in order to get the ice off of the wings. As the plane accerated down the runway, that's when this adventure became real to to me and I had this image in my head of three figures chasing the plane down the tarmac, yelling "go, go, go!" into the snowy winds. I don't know if they were my family, or spirits, or gods of some sort, but it was definitely one of those moments. Maybe defining, but most likely transcendent.

After a short layover in Washington DC, I made the hop to London, and then London into Cork. The transatlantic flight was six hours long and I was seated in row 52 of 53 in between two men who seemed to think that just because they were guys they could spread their legs into my space. Really? Really? OK, guys, here's a tip. Airplanes are uncomfortable. Steerage in a Boeing 747 for six hours is doubly uncomfortable. And just because women tend to sit with their legs closer together than yours does NOT give you the right to spread your legs into her space, especially on a 747 for six hours. Next time, please be a gent and respect the space of the people who are just as uncomfortable as you, female or male.

So I arrived in Cork and took the shuttle from the airport into the city, got dropped off at a stop that I didn't expect to get dropped off at, and somehow managed to find my way to my apartment. It took me about ten minutes of wandering down Washington St. before I figured out that the street signs were not located on poles, as in the U.S, but on the sides of buildings. Stepping out into traffic to cross the street was a bit of a shock the first time. Thankfully I haven't been run over yet and I'm to the point where I'm instictively starting to look to the right first, but every time I do, my brain yells at me that I'm doing it wrong.

Anyhoo, this is all for now. There's a lot more to tell, but the crew is getting to together tonight, so I'm gonna ghost.

Cop-Out

I'm not gonna write much tonight because the last few days have been exhausting for me. Preparations for my trip are going well, but things are starting to get crunched. All I have left to do is pack and get my ass to the airport, and since I plan on taking very little, that shouldn't be too hard. But I did want you to know, dear reader(s), that you should go to your local cinema and see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I did end up seeing this with my brother the other day and we both were blown away. This film is top-to-bottom a work of art, a masterpiece that holds a hard, yet loving mirror up the face of the human experience and condition. It does not flinch and it does not merely resist failure, it triumphs in its purpose. I realized after watching that American culture as a whole seems to take cinema for granted. Movies have become cheap and commonplace entertainment, something we rarely scrutinize. But Benjamin Button reminded me like a slap in the face that film is an artistic medium, a meritous form of human expression. I cannot remember the last time I experienced piece of cinema so transcendent, a piece of cinema that made me feel so much, but more than that, made me feel.

Good art makes us feel and remember how to feel, as my friend Andrea so wisely told me. It can move us in ways we never expected and to places we never knew existed, but I think the trick is allowing it to. We have to let art in and give it a chance. We have to open up our minds and hearts and let ourselves be moved, which can be scary and emotionally risky, but how can there be growth without risk? Take a risk. Don't download a pirated version or wait for the DVD. Do it right. Go to the cinema, pay for a ticket, and let this film move you. And if you do take my advice, please let me know what you think.

Happy Birthday Mithras! (And Merry Christmas, Too)

Well, no doubt you all (all four of you) are dying to hear the tedious details of my life during my two-day radio-silence. I spent all of Tuesday in the Cities with my dear friend, Fryingmon. Obviously Fryingmon is not her REAL name, but I'll call her that in this blog (we're both fans of the program Heroes greet each other with a Hiro-esque enthusiasm). We had a very lovely day together, tromping around, getting excited about strange kitchenwares and forgein-language books. I hadn't seen her since August, as she spent the fall semester in Japan, and we won't see each other again until September, when the next academic year starts. But that's OK, bec, "ause when we rejoin forces, our combined strength will be stronger than ever before and we will save the world. No lies. Fryingmon, you rock.

Yesterday continued in my family's long-standing tradition of doing nothing on Christmas Eve Day. I ate Chex mix and finished my book, Duma Key by Stephen King. One of the perks of working at a bookstore is that I can get massmarket paperbacks for free, once next months' crop of massmarket bestsellers come in and it's all totally legit. I closed the cover just in time for the holy of holies--the Patrick Swayziness. "But what do you mean?" I hear you asking "Patrick Swayze? Christmas? How do they go together?" Allow me to enlighten:

Several years ago, my family had the combined luck and misfortune of watching a Mystery Science Theater 3000 episode in which the smartass robots lampooned Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. Somehow the robots on the show started talking about Patrick Swayze in Road House, and sang a song about having a Patrick Swayze Christmas. So that's what we do. Every Christmas Eve, we have a Patrick Swayze Christmas by watching Road House (and we ONLY watch Road House on Christmas Eve). This year was a milestone year because we DOUBLED, yes DOUBLED, the Swayziness by adding Ghost. And already there's talk next year of adding Dirty Dancing. So there you have it--a moment of MST3K tomfoolery has forever altered my family's sacred Christmas traditions. Oh, and this year we decided during Road House that Patrick Swayze is Jesus and that Sam Elliot is God. Other thoughts included the potential for disaster if His Swayziness was ever to meet Bill Murray and Dan Akroyd in full Ghostbusting (or Ghostbusting) mode.

Today has been fairly low-key. Perhaps I will get around to doing some travel prep, but I doubt it. My brother and I have plans to go and see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button this evening at the local multiplex. I'm still bitter that the homophobic, apolitical bastards who run the place aren't screening Milk or Frost/Nixon, but there's always the DVDs when I get back to the States (I case you can't tell, I like movies. A lot.). At any rate, I hope that this blog finds you happy and well, even if you're reading it in June, and remeber that the laziness, the craziness, and the Swayziness of the holidays can last all year.