Sitting, waiting, wishing

Broken book spines...people are very passionate about this subject. One of the worst things you can do to a book, some say. As bad a dog ears, curled covers, or ripped pages. I say who cares. I think those are the Gatsbys of the world who have libraries for display only. Don't get me wrong: I also want a library to show off, and I love the way a wall of books on shelves look, but I love breaking the spines of books and bending the covers back. I can't stand dog ears though--bookmarks are definitely the way to go. I just think that broken and battered books are the coolest. My copy of To Kill A Mockingbird is literally falling apart. I dropped it once and all the pages scattered and I spent the next half hour putting them all back in order. And it's brilliant. I love books that you can lay flat and it stays open to your page. And they only do that when they're so read the spines are "broken" everywhere.

I read for 5 hours today. I've read 14 books since I've been here. 17 is my goal. It's just an arbitrary number.

True remorse is never just a regret over consequences; it is a regret over motive. -Mignon McLaughlin

Give me hope in silence

Today was almost great. I love riding buses--just watching everything go by, listening to music, sitting by strangers, thinking in peace. I hated it when I first got here. I can't navigate Seattle buses. I've only ever had to do it by myself once, and it was totally fine and easy, but I avoid it at all costs. So yeah, in September when I fully realized that I was at the mercy of public transportation I dreaded going anywhere because I didn't know how much to pay or where the stops were or when they ran and what holidays they stop for and all the little nonsensical things that these Irish people find normal. But now that I've got it all down I love it. Sure it's over priced and my knees end up hurting by the end of the long ride because the seats are all too close together and you never know if a total creep is going to sit next to you or fall asleep on you or glare at you for no known reason, but it's awesome. It's beautiful here.

I think I passed into stage three of living somewhere new today. Stage One is when everything is still a novelty and you think everything is amazing and different and you don't want to waste a single second. Stage Two is when you're totally disillusioned and everything looks the same and you're sick of all the oddities and you have to convince yourself to go outside and see it all again. And then Stage Three is just appreciating it. You know it for what it really is and the shitty things aren't going to surprise you anymore, and the great things make you kind of proud in a way.

So yes. It was a grand and thoughtful bus ride into the city. It's really easy to lose perspective inside an apartment.

I knew I shouldn't have gone to Temple Bar. I even tried to avoid it by getting off at the end of the line--Merrion Square. But even then I couldn't stop myself from heading straight to the Temple Bar Book Market. I bought four...it's a sickness.

I didn't know there's also a Temple Bar Food Market. It's in this weird tiny square that's kind of hidden. You have to follow an arrow down an alley and pass a busker who looks you straight in the face as you go by. They aren't that big on street food here though. There was an Asian stand with noodles and dumpling-like things. There was a Mexican stand with burritos and rice and beans all over the place. There was a baked goods stand with tons of stuff. Jams, cheeses, butchers, fresh veggies. I got a cup of apple cider with a shot of apple brandy. That was good.

Then I kind of just walked around for a while. Lookin' for a place to eat, but the city was mad today. Must be because it's Saturday and it's getting to be warmer so the tourists just start flocking. It was cool though. Felt busy and warm and you just get swept into the stream. I walked straight through a couple of pubs that were too full--there's always a back door that leads to some alley. Ended up at Grafton street. That place is awesome. There are far too many people there all the time and it's street performer central, and there are only high-end shops and McDonald's, but it's cool.

Down an alley is the Powerscourt Townhouse. I don't know why it's called that. It's a mall basically. Tons of shops and a couple restaurants. The center is all open with a restaurant on the bottom floor and then all the balconies of the other two floors are for other restaurants.

Lots of wandering. There's a place up north east of Powerscourt where the homeless people get mean. I heard "Go fuck the lot of ya" a few times.

Ate dinner at the Queen of Tarts cafe. That place is awesome.

That's a spinach and almond tart. Sounds weird, but it was good.

By this time my right shoulder was starting to feel all those books I was lugging around, so I headed to the river to find a bus stop. Yeah I didn't end up going to the bus station today. It's on the other side of the Liffey and it just didn't feel urgent. So I guess I'll call or something. Or just take the train. Might as well.

I talked to Whitney and Bret when I got back! That was awesome. 

Probably not going to get out of bed tomorrow.

Anyone can become angry--that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way--that is not easy. -Aristotle

I'll Roll Away Mine

Grocery shopping was grand today. It's great to spend less than you anticipate. I bought a small loaf of bread though and it's sure to go bad before I work up the gumption to eat it. No way I'm freezing it.

I can't wait to have keys again. Mostly because then I can put this CWU bottle opener on the keyring. Well really mostly because then I'll have a car and a house to unlock again.

So this is the terrible practicing cycle. Yesterday I felt pretty good about it--didn't sound as bad as I thought, optimistic, productive, all that. Sometimes that feeling lasts for a while, but today it was just instant depression. And I'm not going to practice tomorrow 'cause I'm not going to be here, and on Sunday I'm going to look the case in the hinges for a while before just saying fuck it, it's a lost cause. 

The real downer of the day: I read an article for Sociology about why men commit suicide. Okay really it was about the ways the different genders reveal emotion. I feel like it was all a load of crap though.

     "Relatively little is known about male emotion, as it is not a well researched area, but an implication from existing studies is that male and female emotions may not be so distinct."

Seriously people? Do researchers not have friends? Does everything have to be discovered in a lab room or through contrived interviews with a hypothesis in mind? In my experience guys are much more ready to spill all their problems. Maybe it's just me though. 

I think it's very healthy to spend time alone. You need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person. -Oscar Wilde

Roll Away Your Stone

Today was an accidental nap kind of day. It sucks too because I wasn't really tired I was just bored. There were three different times I was going to leave. I went down to turn my counterpoint assignment in and it wasn't too hateful outside, so I was going to go back and go for a walk down in south campus or something after eating breakfast. By the time I made and ate something it was raining. Damn. Fine, I'll practice. I really did. For an hour and a half. It was awesome. Used drones for 45 minutes and everything. It's all going to be okay next year--not amazing, but I don't think I'll be too shamed. After that I thought I'd go to the store 'cause I'm out of food, but, more rain. Fuckin' hell. (Fookin' ill) So, reading. Lay down in bed, get through two chapters and I'm out for the next two hours. For fuck's sake...pisses me off.

I booked my hostels for next week though. I'm going to Derry! And Belfast. I'm more excited about Derry though. I'll listen to Grainger the whole time. I just have to figure out how to get there now. There are buses, but you can't buy your ticket online and I that makes me nervous. So, this Saturday when I go into Dublin I'll go to the bus station too and ask somebody about it. Those information guys aren't the most patient of people. If I have to take a train...I just have to and that'll be that.

Also on Saturday I want to go to O'Donoghue's. Just have a pint and chill--maybe/hopefully see some live music. There's also the book market in Temple Bar that I should probably keep clear of.

Okay about practicing. My left shoulder is killing me now. I've only ever worried about my chops getting weak, but that thing is heavy! I can't believe I played for hours and hours at a time last year and didn't feel it in my arm or shoulder at all.

Cada vez que lo veo pasar...

I watched the whole Astrodome concert today. I still want to be her.

Belfast and Derry are going to happen even if I have to sleep on park benches. I tried to book hostels today, but my card was being denied. I got angry and called the bank and they said that it wasn't their fault it was something about how they were charging the card...like, the bank wasn't getting all the information it usually need so the charges couldn't be approved. That means that something is wrong with Hostelworld.com. I'll try again tomorrow and if it doesn't work then I'll have to try something else. I want to go next weekend. There were rooms available so I'm not worried about it.

My window was egged the morning before last. I think it was a random act. I hope so anyway. I don't know anybody well enough to have caused an offense I don't think. Although, I have found out lately that not talking can be just as irritating as talking too much.

I got really into my counterpoint assignment today. It's due tomorrow and I only had a few bars done, and I thought it was going to give me trouble. It did take a few hours, but that was more because i wanted to make it sound cool rather than just wanting to make it right. Making it right is hard enough, but this one is cool. I think. In my head it is. I don't have a piano to play it with or a program to dictate and listen back with, but you know whatever. I probably have el diablo de musica all over the place, but that's beside the point.

Tomorrow I should read a bunch of articles that I'm behind on for Sociology. It would be idiotic not to pass this class.

Oh I've been having dreams lately. It's kind of nice. The other night I had braces though and last night I had no eyebrows. Haven't been so relieved in a long time.

Grand

I'm down to one class. I keep forgetting that there are only two more weeks of lectures. And then another two weeks until my first final. So much empty time ahead of me.

Skyped with Jenn about this painting job for the summer. It's not going to be very fun, but it's definitely worth it. I really don't think I could get a full time job anywhere else for just the summer. She asked me if I were afraid of heights because apparently we get hooked into harnesses and have to go up the tall ladders because we are a "rolling and brushing" business rather than spraying. Fortunately, I'm not afraid. She thinks I should apply for the managering position though. You don't have to have experience--she just thinks I have good people skills. It's interesting. You don't get paid more, so it's not a huge deal.

I'm just going to assume that I passed my inspection because I haven't heard otherwise.

This Saturday is a Dublin day. There are still a bunch of things I haven't gotten around to there. Maybe the Leprechaun museum. 

Spring cleaning

So I've cleaned my room, and I've decided that I prefer it dirty. Not dirty. I won't miss the mold on the window sill or the dust behind my computer or the soap scum in the shower. But tidiness is overrated. With the desk clear and the bed made and the floor empty it just feels unused. And I'm bitter because my piles of dirty clothes--separated by color of course--are now all in the hamper thing. Doesn't sound like a big deal now, but it's messing up my constant laundry flow. Anyway when something's clean it looks the same every day. It's predictable and boring. But unorganized areas change and things get lost and it looks different even from morning to night and I think that's much better.

Our hoover is a joke. First of all it barely works--it does work a lot better than it did last time I tried to use it, some 6 months ago. Second of all it only has a long hose thing--you can't just shove it around over things like the American ones. Americans are too cool to bend over. And lastly of all, it smokes. I didn't realize it until I stood up after crawling around all over my floor. I'm so lucky that our fire things detect heat instead of smoke. It smelled gross though. Open the window, light a candle.

White walls are depressing. Okay I was thinking about things I will miss and won't miss again. And then I was just thinking about things that I will be grateful for from now on. Washers and driers are on the miraculous level for me now. Having more than one knife in your kitchen. More than one everything actually. I kind of claimed a mug and a bowl and a spoon that I just rewash and use every time I eat anything. Having more than three books to choose from. A mattress that doesn't give you bruises and spine aches. Wireless internet is amazing--not like a hotdog. Chinese food (sorry Whit).

It's about time to stop saving things. I've kind of been trying to make things last by not using them at all. So now I just have a lot of certain things and I probably won't be able to use everything by the time I leave. Backfired I guess. 

Nothing...

to say.

Except: inspections are on Monday so I have to clean my room tomorrow. Thoroughly.

Whiskey and coke is doable.

I'm going to talk to the girl that might hire me for this painting job, on Skype on Monday night. May be weird.

Good day

Very productive.

Productivity is overrated.

Vehement

I love walking in the rain. It's cathartic. Today was awesome and weird. I had to go down to south campus to pay my rent which is ten minutes away from my apartment walking, and when I left here it was sunny and warm and I took my coat off and I thought that was cool. I went into the money building for twenty minutes paying my shit, and when I was leaving there was this huge crashing sound outside. It was so loud and I had no idea what it was, and this woman came running in the door holding a newspaper over her head and she tells me "it's mad out there." The noise was thunder and outside the sky is deep gray and it's windy and the rain is stinging and it's awesome. I put my hood on at first to be like everyone else but just said fuck it after I turned a corner and walked the rest of the way with brilliantly wet hair. I don't know. I just love it. Drops collecting and falling to hang out on the tip of your nose and you can just blow them off, and seeing things blurry because there are drops hanging to your eye lashes. And puddles are awesome when they're clear enough to be mirrors.

I don't leave when it's raining though. It's contradictory. If I see it outside I'm like "shit, I wouldn't want to be in that" or something else normal. I have to be surprised by it to enjoy it. It's fucked up.

Aoife was bugging me today and she didn't even really do anything. She and her friend Hazel kind of camped out in the kitchen all day which is fine, whatever. But they are so inconsiderate and self centered. I go in there and they're on the couches on their laptops singing--and Aoife thinks she's a way better singer than she is--and start making dinner. And two minutes later they get up and start making their dinner and are asking me to move every other second to get into their presses and shit. I don't know if this makes me a pushover, but I usually just wait for someone to move out of my way when I'm sharing kitchen space. Or any space really. It's worked out very well for the last three years. Patience. That's what it's about. They haven't it and they're making me lose it. They also had a Keisha song in one of their playlists and that pissed me off.

Porque negra tengo el alma

I felt like I had a hangover this morning. Well, it was afternoon when I woke up actually, so that may explain it. But I'd prefer to blame Aoife some more. As if her party's drunkenness just wafted into my sleep and dehydrated me.

I hate groups of people. When I'm not in one. Not that I'm jealous and want to be in the group--I am content being alone most of the time. But people turn into assholes when they're in groups. A group of four is the worst. Because they always have to walk next to each other and take up the whole side walk or pathway or whatever. There's a section in Notes from Underground where the guy works up the nerve to keep his path and just run into this other guy. It takes him a week or something and when he finally does it it's not satisfying at all. But anyway now every time I'm walking toward a group that's pretending to be oblivious or overly important, or maybe they just really are assholes and don't care, I think about that passage. And I don't move until the last second. I mean c'mon, I'm already walking on the very edge of the path and why the hell should I walk on the grass just because you're too inconsiderate to stay on your damn side? And it's always that outside person that's not really in the conversation so maybe they're afraid that if they move their outsider status will be confirmed. It's so stupid. I brush by people all the time on purpose.
In high school there was this girl who called me a bitch because I accidentally pushed her. Those hallways get packed and she was in one of those groups that just stand in a circle by the lockers like a tumor and I walked by all nerdy with a bunch of books and her obnoxiously big and totally empty backpack was sticking out into the stream of things, and when I passed her I wasn't going to try to avoid it. So I pushed by her and she got jostled a bit and she just turned and glared at me and said "bitch" like those stupid girls you see on "Underage and Pregnant" or whatever that show is. I've never glared at someone so hard in my life. Other than Whitney. If I had time to push her again I might have.

There's a man in my Sociology tutorial--a "mature student." I think that's funny. They're saying all the normal college aged people aren't mature and only those over 45 are. It's funny until I actually think about it. It's mostly true. But anyway this guy has the weirdest mumbly accent and I can't understand him until he says something a second time and I'm concentrating with furrowed brow and all that shit, but even then it's not worth listening to because he always answers a different question. Or he just says what he wants to say regardless of what's actually being discussed. The last tutorial was yesterday and one of the essay questions is going to be on gender and he just goes on and on about a person's sex. And "joost cause yar geey or street it don't min" something irrelevant. I stopped listening. And the tutorial teacher person is trying to explain to him that there's a difference between sex and gender and identity, but he either doesn't care or doesn't understand because he just keep slurring on about gay people in prison. He works in a prison apparently and that's where he gets all his social experiences. Poor guy.

Athens class is done. I felt a little bad because he was very normal and chilled out today and he passed around this questionnaire/survey thing about his class. Just talking about him and being frustrated is one thing, but I can't commit to writing bad things about people anonymously on papers they are going to read looking for something constructive.

Madre I made that tortilla soup from World Market and I'm going to eating it for days. It makes sooooo much. Barely fit in the pot and I was scared it was going to boil over the whole time. It's grand though.

If it kills me

I don't think I've ever been as drunk as these fellas get on a regular basis. There is a girl outside my door (in our hallway) squeaking and screaming about getting the shift. She just keeps saying it over and over and over again. "We're gonna get the shift. The shift. Get the shift. WE are going to get the SHIFT. SHIFT." Shut the fuck up. Go make out with random blokes in the club and get mono and don't tell me about it. There's a lad arguing with her and he's even getting squeaky. Why do guys start talking all high pitched when they're arguing with stupid fucking girls? Do they think it makes it better? I think it's patronizing. The worst of this stupid minute is that they are Aoife's friends. And right now I can hear her in her room playing chill and calm music on her guitar and ignoring it all. I feel like if your friends are being idiots in your apartment it's your job to usher them out or slap them so they don't piss off your considerate roommates. I'm really tired of this shit. They make me feel like a grumpy old woman.

Or how about now, at one am someone just ringing the doorbell nonstop for a whole minute? Fuck you. My patience is completely gone. I actually had something interesting or insightful to say today rather than the explanation of why I sit on my ass and do nothing all day, but I can't even remember it now because I can't think because I'm so livid.

Choke on words

I bought my ticket home finally! It's actually for May 31st. Fine by me. 45 more days.

It's been another day full of nothing much. I went to the store and talked to Louise a bit and I've been trying to download all this music from Trad class. I didn't even read today. Sat around drinking tea and watching videos. Sad state.

Lazy days

I got back here yesterday and kind of just crashed. I felt like shit on the plane though. I don't know why but it was a rough one. But then we landed and I didn't feel like puking anymore. There was this Australian woman who sat by me on the bus and she was nice and talkative. I didn't really have to say much, which is what I always prefer, but she went on about what it's like to be an American in Europe and why we get a bad wrap and Americans aren't big drinkers and 21 is a good drinking age and these streets are really too small for buses and where's a good place to get coffee 'round here? The first thing she talked about was drinking and I didn't disagree with her. If she wants to think Americans are a bunch of sober squares, whatever. Then she was talking about soft drinks and Americans are really big soda drinkers, so I said "yeah we don't tend to drink a lot of water." And she turns around and says "oh but you do though." I just said fuck it and gave up after that. There's no way to talk to a flip-flopping stranger. You win. I know I know more about being American than you, I don't need to prove it.

Back to Maynooth. Unpacked Paco, turned on my computer, felt tired so I got into bed and read for a little while and fell asleep. I woke up at 11 and turned the lights off and was out until 9 this morning. I slept for like 13 hours.

Today's been good. Very good morning. Glad I woke up in time for it. I didn't accomplish anything besides posting pictures on facebook--which literally took me 5 hours to finish. I was multitasking, but still, I think it's ridiculous. I talked to Louise in the kitchen for half an hour. Aoife is here for some reason. She hasn't spent a single weekend here all year, but here she is. I've been thirsty all day. I was going to do laundry and buy my ticket home and maybe paint since I bought some paint thinner while I was in Edinburgh and I want to use it, but I'm just tired now, so goodnight.

Highlands

First of all, we yanks say Edinburrow, and the Scots say Eninburra. No hard Gs.

I really loved the highlands. The Glencoe mountain area is one of the most beautiful places I've even been to. It's so vast and empty and pristine. It's one of those places that taking pictures just seems silly because nothing is ever going to be as good.

Highland cows are awesome--they're furry.

Our driver, Jerry, talked about William Wallace and all the historical inaccuracies of Braveheart. The bigs ones are that he wouldn't have worn a kilt and tartan because he was a lowlander and only the highlanders wore that "traditional" stuff. And only the Picts ever painted their faces blue, and by then they were long gone. The Picts were the ancient celtic tribes of Scotland. Jerry still liked the movie though.

He also talked about Rob Roy. I really had no idea that he was a real person. He was a minor clan chief way back when and that meant that he was responsible for taking care of his whole village, but up in the highlands there aren't really any jobs, and there weren't then either. So he would rob the cattle drivers that went through the area. But then he would have his peeps protect then on the rest of their journey so that the would only get robbed once per trip.

We passed the town where Ewen McGreggor was born.

There was a massacre up there somewhere in 1692. The Campbells killed 70 of the McDonalds and I guess to this day there are some McDonalds in the service industries that will not serve a Campbell no matter where they are from.

There is more water in Loch Ness than all the rivers and lakes of all of England combined. The first time anybody reported to have seen Nesse was in 565AD. It was St. Columba who said he say a man getting pulled into the lake by a monster so he said some prayer and signed a cross so she got scared and swam away.

Apparently the real King Macbeth was actually a very kind, fair, and gentle man.

They speak the best English in the country in Inverness.

I think that the city of Perth is really cool. It's only had the title of city for three weeks now. It's the ancient capital of Scotland though, and it's where the kings were all crowned. They didn't sit on thrown, they had the Stone of Destiny. The damned English took it when they took over Scotland and the Scots only got it back a few years ago, but instead of taking it back to Perth where they got it, the English took it to Edinburgh--the modern capital--and the stone is now in with a crown and some other things in the crown jewel tank at the castle.

Barnton is an area in Edinburgh where the rich people live. We drove through it on the way back into the city and Jerry told us that the most recent newcomer is JK Rowling who spent 3 million pounds on a house to live in, and 1 million pounds on the house next door which she demolished in order to plant a bigger garden for herself. She is richer than and queen of England now.