Finished.

My journey back home wasn't easy, and nearly wiped me out but I made it. On Wednesday the 22nd, I rode a cab to the bus station. From there I went on a 6 hour journey to Dubin with an hour delay due to the ice and snow. Upon my arrival, I got off the bus, grabbed my bags and went in search for a cab. The journey to the hotel across the street from the airport took about 40 minutes.

That evening I went downstairs for dinner and found out that I had checked myself into the wrong room. How I did that is a mystery, especially since my card swiped me in with no problem. Then I got up at 5am, packed what little things I had thrown around the room and headed downstairs for the shuttle. I was able to get to the airport 2 1/2 hours early, check my bags, get through security without much trouble, go through American customs in a jiffy and make my way to the gate.

I was surprised to find two girls from my apartment flying on the same airplane. So I sat next to them and waited. Thirty minutes before boarding and we hear an announcement stating that our flight is being delayed due to weather. However, nothing was happening outside. An hour later and it starts to snow! Then we're told to board quickly. That didn't work. Everyone sat there for about twenty minutes before the captain announces that we will be there until 1pm (three hours later). The airport was shut down, but it didn't matter because we couldn't get past American immigration anyways. So all we could do is sit on the airplane or get up to go to the restroom. Two and a half hours pass, and the snow stops. Then announcement comes on to say we may leave early, but low and behold the snow comes back, and we're stuck until 1pm while the snow plows are out there working. Eventually the three hours pass, but then we're told they have to plow again for another 40 minutes. Just as the plows were done, the captain tells us that it will be another twenty minutes because they have to defrost the plane! I was so frustrated. I didn't think we would get out of there that day. But just as promised, we were out of there 4 hours past scheduled time.

I had missed my connecting flights, and once I got to Newark, New Jersey, I was issued a new plane ticket for Denver. The plane was boarding in 15 minute minutes and I had to run down a very, very long pathway. It was a good thing that most of the time there was a conveyor belt to help speed things up, because I might have missed the plane. Four hours later with a crying baby sitting right behind me, and I make it to Denver. I was tired and worn out, but I was glad to be in America, and I was happy to try my first Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte. As I sat at the gate, an announcement came on stating that the flight to Salt Lake was over booked, and that there would be passengers taken off the list if no one volunteered.

I got nervous. After spending time in airports and riding on airplanes for a total of 17 hours, I was not wanting to have to stay in a hotel over night. I just wanted to get it over with and see my family. Sure enough they started calling off names. Five people were called, and I was safe. I couldn't believe it, because I would of been the last passenger to receive a ticket to my knowledge. It was either an early Christmas miracle, or I got priority for missing my connecting flight. Then thirty minutes before boarding, and the same lady starts calling two more passengers. I was still safe, and I made it on that plane and straight into the arms of my dad Thursday morning at 1am.

So that's how it all ended. I was glad to have those extra days in Ireland, but I really wanted to go home for Christmas and I made it. I already miss being there, and I actually wish I could go back for a few semesters more, but one was an experience that I'll always appreciate.

The most stressful day of my life.

I waited out in the Cork aiport for the full ten hours, but I never did get to Heathrow. My flight got the go ahead at 4 0'clock, but I had no connecting flights afterward, and I would have been stranded with thousands of other passengers until Christmas day just to get home. My Dad, bless his heart, went online and bought me a new plan ticket for Thursday out of Dublin. The battle is still not over, because it's supposed to snow all week and Dublin is not missing out on all the fun. I just pray that it will work out and I make it home for Christmas.

Ya know what? I almost wish I had made a 10 hour airport blog! Eventually another American student came over and asked to share the table/plug in, and I was all for it. We both sat there, letting the other person rant all they wanted and just giving each other support. The highlight of the day was when a man came over and asked if we could watch his bags. I said sure, and so he dropped off a bag and walked off. I called after him, but he ignored me. I started panicking like crazy! You don't do that in an airport, for heaven sakes, it could have been a terrorist dropping off an explosive. The situation was completely unusual, and so I called down an employee, who acted as if it was no big deal whatsoever. If it had been in America, there would of been police all over that thing! In the end, the guy came over and started laughing (my new friend went after him and asked about the bag). I had to explain to him that "where I come from, you don't do that." After it was all cleared up, I sat down again to wait for news about my flight.

After it was confirmed that I would not be going home until Thursday, I took it upon myself to find a B&B. Then I remembered the ones right across the street from UCC, so that's where I went. However, the journey was excruciating. My bus stopped at Parnell Place, and at first I had this notion that I could walk all the way over to Washington Street, but I wasn't even 1/3rd of the way there before I just wanted to break down from all the stress on my shoulders and arm. I had to pull a huge luggage bag, and a smaller one that wasn't light, either. Eventually I made it to Grand Parade, where all the Taxi drivers sit to wait for customers. I was so exhausted to the point where I couldn't even pull my luggage up to the curb. The cab driver had to get out and walk all the way around the car just so he could get them into the trunk. I probably made at least twenty short stops along the way, because it felt like I was trying to break my shoulders off, and carrying the little suitcase with one arm wasn't working out. Yeah, I'm making this all long and drawn out, but it really was a mess, especially since the streets were crowded, and I had previously bruised my upper leg while trying to get my larger bag into the storage bin under the side of the bus (it opens up like a hatch back, only on the side).

So that was my long and probably one of the worst days of my life. I really hope it only gets better from here on out now. I passed out once I hit the bed and turned on the TV. It's nice to be in Cork again, and not having to travel elsewhere just to make a flight until Wednesday night/Thursday early morning.

Stuck!

I'm chilling out at the Cork Airport for about another 8 and a half hours. That is if my flight goes through at all. My 7:30am was canceled (I would be taking off by now!), and the next airplane won't be until 3:20pm. I'm very tempted to make a blog titled "Ten Hours at the Airport," and each entry would be listing some interesting sight seeing, odd gifts in the shop, and anyone who tries to steal my luggage. Oh, and all the tasty goodies I've stuffed into my mouth over the course of those ten hours. However, I'm too tired, and too lazy, and uncreative at this stage. So that idea is pretty much out.

I was lucky enough to find more money in my bank account than previously thought! I was also able to keep 5 of the 20 euro I had saved for the taxi, which helped paid for my subway. When my computer died, I meandered over to the Subway counter and found plug ins, so now I can use my laptop again. The airport computers cost euro, which I find rather ridiculous. Nothing, not one thing is free in Ireland. It always has a price tag on it. Want to eat in at a fast food restaurant? They charge you almost a full euro extra!

I'm eager to purchase a drink somewhere. I'm dying of thirst, and I have a sinus infection to boot. Coughing is not my favorite hobby. :/

Little last tidbits and snipets

Five days to go, almost four. The past few have been decent/disappointing. Monday I was out for 7 hours walking around while buying those last few Christmas presents with a friend, and ending my night at Boole 2 to watch Miracle on 34th Street. Yesterday I went to bed in dull aching pain that persisted for most of yesterday until I found out that Aleeve makes that sort of burning sensation go away. It's weird that it wasn't just a working out/sore muscle feeling, but as if my whole body had caught on fire. I was miserable, and it didn't help that I should of started on my four essays. :/

Today I was feeling a lot better, and this morning I started reading Sherlock Holmes for my Victorian paper. I'm hoping to get three essays out of the way by Saturday, but it's going to take a lot of effort and possibly an all nighter to get the job done. I plan on staying up pretty late tonight, sleeping at a decent hour tomorrow, and then staying up late again Friday night/Saturday morning.

My roommate Jayme is going home Friday around 4am. Then I'll be heading to the airport around 4:30am on Monday, and Jillian will be the last leave around 1pm. It'll be a bittersweet departure, but in all honesty, I am very looking forward to having my own room and a quiet house again. That is for one day, because 24 hours after I arrive in KC, I'll be heading to Utah, and I know deep down that it will be a rowdy, but fun reunion. :)

Some interesting Cork facts:

1. It's common for most teenagers and young adults to add "like" and "so" to the end of their sentences. Example: "That's grand like" or "Are we going to the store so?"

2. Grand is used a lot as well. It's very Irish!

3. Crepes are really popular. I just got one for the last time at the crepe/doughnut/ice cream stand in the mall. Lemon, sugar, and butter are a favorite, as well as nutella.

4. Jaywalking is illegal, but no one in the city upholds this rule. In fact, I've seen Garda (policeman in Irish) crossing the street before the light turned green.

5. Lots of street vendors full of food and crafts pop up every friday through Sunday in December to try and bank in on the holiday season.

6. It's not uncommon for dogs to walk around without a leash. Many of them are well behaved and stick to their owners!

7. Bacon is called rashers. An Irish breakfast is called a full fry-up.

8. Irish sharp mature cheddar. Oh so good. Go buy some!

9. There are trucks around here, but not as big as the ones at home.

10. College transcripts aren't delivered until February. :/

A real goodbye.

Outside of skirts made of green,

inside, the heart of cities muff-

collide in shades of brown, yellow, and rose.

Hard pavement walkways,

tender footed sandy beaches,

seagulls call all snowy white,

and so it ends-for me.

I breath-look-ponder to stare,

blurred lines stir themselves even,

while the loud daily man echos "decO!"

He no longer reeks of annoyance.

Butter tender as the cows themselves

Cadbury's swirling chocolates wrapped in ecstasy

fried, salted bacon. Egg yolks turned to fluff.

Mmm....the dream of a lost American.

Shamrocks do not phase me,

leprechauns do not stir here.

This isn't any stereotype that I can imagine,

save what's left of the beer. Or stout.

Feisty winds of stinging pleasure,

winter's cold is doused with good measure,

and I hate it-and love it-and embrace it all the more!

Saluting ye off to a depressing start,

and onwards on, only time will tell.

So goodbye, dear Cork. Thanks ever so. Thanks a million.

Paris part deux

I totally forgot to finish my story about Paris. What a dork-ack.

So the next morning, Sarah and I got up for breakfast downstairs. We had crunchy/flaky/moist bread with butter and jam. It was so so good! Before we're about to leave, Ben calls us to say he was already at Notre Dame, which surprised me because it was only 9:30am. It turns out that I had set our alarm via Cork time, and Sarah and I were running an hour late (the time was really 10:30am). So rush rush rush we went!

We started off in the right direction, and kept on walking until I started to doubt our route. I called Ben again at one of the many street corners, and he said to look for an M, which just so happened to be right in front of us! Down the steps, ticket in the machine, and to the train we ran. Then we waited...and waited. Finally, 5-10 minutes later, it came, and so we hopped on. For a split second that is.

Sarah asked for the map, and then said: "What if if this isn't the right direction?!" I then yelled: "Ok then! Let's get off!" I jumped. Her hands were nearly out as the door tried to slam shut. She pulled back, looked at me with a "oh well" before the train rode off. Crap.

I stood there in panic, wondering what Sarah was going to do. The next train came along, so I got on and looked about at each of the next three stops to see if she decided to wait for me there. I was finally at Place D'Italie, and not knowing if the train went to or near Notre Dame, I got off and started towards the next metro. It was pouring down snow, and the wind was terrible. I tried calling Ben, but at this point I had no phone minutes left, and I couldn't add anymore with my credit card. So onto the next metro stop I went, using the second to last my train tickets. I walked all around looking at my map and then at the signs, but none of the destinations matched up, and there was only one ticket left in my purse. Since the chances of my getting on the wrong train and winding up lost were high, I decided to go back to the B&B, call Ben and wait to see what would happen.

It took me 15 minutes to find the right train back to Kremlin Bicetre. Once I had made my way down a pair of stairs where an old woman sat with a basket. She spoke to me in an extremely low, battered- almost smoker like voice that sent chills down my spine. I kept on walking in a daze, trying to figure out where I was going. At one point I realized that I was about to hop on the wrong train, and turned around to find that the old woman had followed me! I waited for her to bend over to where she had been sitting before sprinting up the stairs just as a crowd of people walked on by.

Here's the deal. The train that goes to Kremlin Bicetre doesn't always go that way, for it also has another direction to go to every other time (basically there's two tracks that split off). I found the train, but I didn't know how to check which direction it was going to go. So I just hopped on it anyway, and as we were riding out, a man pointed to the map above the interior of the glass doors, running his finger from where we were to Kremlin Bicetre. You should of seen my face light up like a Christmas tree! I swear, Jesus did it. He told that man to show me the way- or maybe not, but seriously, it was a miracle.

So I got back to the B&B frozen stiff, but grateful none the less, and called Ben with Pellay's telephone. He decided to wait at Notre Dame and he would call me back when she got there. 20 minutes, and Pellay said I had a phone message that "she was safe." I called back, and then waited an hour for their return to come and pick me up.

So that was my Saturday morning. The rest of the day couldn't have been better. Sarah and Ben showed up, and we headed to the Musee D'orsay. I got to see Van Gough and Monet, sculptures, and all kinds of surrealism type art. The best part was seeing Van Gough's portrait of himself. I just wanted to stare at it all day! His artwork is so cool, and fresh-it somewhat reminds me of the colorful and happy things that I enjoy drawing myself. The only disappointment was that half of Monet's collection had been taken to another exhibit- in London I think-, including his work of the woman and her parasol (my favorite). Oh, and we also had a snack at Cafe' du Lion! They have the best hot chocolate ever. It was sooo good. Nom nom nom.

Afterward, we went to the Champs Elysees- which is probably like New York, in that it's a huge long street just filled to the brimful of giant shops and tiny cafes and bakeries. At the end is the Arc de Triomphe, which I took pictures of in the middle of the street! Then we crossed, and headed over to a small bakery known for their tasty macaroons (tiny oreos made with flaky pastry dough, and filled with wonderful things). Oh it was splendid!

Ben left us to go do homework, and Sarah and I went to the Eiffel Tower. Can I not say just how great-grand-stupendous-amazing-insightful-adorable-it was?! I bought our tickets to go to the very top, but the stop was on the second floor. We rode in a cart that travels up the left side of the tower, got off, and just looked down. It was heaven! The whole city of Paris just lit up with beautiful colors. I could see Notre Dame from far away, and all the other great monuments that littered the city. The cold kept us uneasy, so up to the top we went (you have to get on another cart to go there), and it turned out that it was warm and cozy (it was enclosed with heaters). That's one thing I didn't like about Paris- a lot of places do not have heat, including parts of the airport! It was 20 degrees, and I had to freeze inside half the time I was there.

Anyways, I loved it so much, and I'm so glad I went! The tourist in me was fulfilled, especially after purchasing a beret and a new hand bag. We were running late to see Ben, so there wasn't much time to stop for crepes as we had originally planned. So back to the train station we went!

Ben met us there, and as we reached the top of the stairs and around the corner- there was our restaurant. The menu outside the door had one thing on there that stood out from all the rest- Boeuf Bourguignon. I squealed and danced like a child of 5, and would not for the life of me not let us eat anywhere else. It had to be here! And just as we sat down at our table, taking in our surroundings, the waitress came to announce that tonights special was indeed Boeuf Bourguignon.

This dish is made in the film Julia and Julia, and because it looks so so tasty, I have been wanting to try it for over a year now. This place did not disappoint. Not only did they opt out on using mushrooms (I hate them-yuck!), but the meat itself was perfection, melting in my mouth upon bite after bite, until it ceased to be no more. I couldn't have asked for a better meal if I wanted too. And for desert- chocolate cake with chocolate filling and a scoop of ice cream. Down that went too, and rightfully so.

We said our good nights, parted ways, and headed back to the B&B. I didn't sleep as grand as the night before, but it certainly was a nice rest. The next mourning we met Ben at Notre Dame (this time without any issues- although Sarah nearly didn't make it on the train), and we were able to walk around and take a good look inside. Mass was going on at the same time, and we even got to listen to the soloist perform (it was beautiful). I didn't take any pictures inside, because I just wanted to enjoy it without having to stop and click my camera at an old stained glass window. My favorite thing was the tomb of a long dead Bishop, his body carved out on top of the lid with jewels in his hat, and a curled staff in his closed hands.

We walked to an outdoor crepe restaurant for breakfast, but the wait was too long, so we went inside for some pastries. I bought a chocolate eclair, which was ended up being as good as they say- but my hot chocolate was rather disappointing. Still, I was so glad to finally be able to walk the streets of Paris instead of running around lost under ground. On the way to the train station, we stopped to check out a fountain with winged lions and a man with a double edged sword ready to kill the man that laid underneath his heavy foot. The water was turned off, but the masterpiece was still grand to see none the less. This was the last thing I saw before going back to the underground and aways away to the airport.

Aside from all the hustle and bustle that was to be while catching my airplane, there was one last thing on the list- An issue of Paris Vogue. I tried getting one in Paris, but the newspaper stand didn't have one. Well here it was, for the shocking price of 26 euro! I couldn't believe it until I got a closer look at the cover: Spring 2011 Fashion spread!! I couldn't be more happier with my prize. A magazine with over three hundred pages of the newest fashions that just hit the runway! I couldn't have arrived in Paris at a better time. Perfect.

The ride back home wasn't fun- I got really motion sick, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. The best part about the plane ride back was right as I stepped on to hear the Irish flight attendant say: "Hello." ENGLISH. I love my language, I love it so. To hear those words and not "bonjour" was a blessing. It's not that I don't like French, I actually want to learn more of it, but after a long and stressful transition, "hello" was all I really wanted to hear at that point. And when I sat down in my chair, I almost wanted to cry. Not because I was leaving Paris, but because I was going to miss Ireland.

Contemplation-new doors-exhalation

As I wondered down the slippery sidewalk across from UCC, I realized how everything I took for granted day in and day out now started to pour onto me like it was new again, bringing in a sense of unhappiness, because I yearned to stay and I wanted to keep on living things just the same for as long as I could.

Suddenly I began to think strangely, and when I walked by a dirty old pigeon, I couldn't help to think: "someone loves you. I love you," and before I knew it, every little bird and gliding seagull was receiving a small piece of my heart without even knowing it. And all those worn out buildings from centuries ago, the sidewalks and the lights- I couldn't stop for them, to take a ganger and just stand there until every little detail was etched into my brain, but I wanted too. I wanted to hold onto them.

So I walked into the art store to buy some paper and colored pencils for the last time. This part didn't phase me as much as when I took another trip to Mark and Spencers, only to find that my favorite raviolis were not in stock, nor was the mac n' cheese. I found a chicken and pasta dish, which ended up being amazing- and it made me feel the gloomy concept of never eating another freshly prepared, microwavable meal again.

But then I remembered my family, and my friends. I left because I wanted to start over, I didn't feel like I fit anywhere- I just wanted to get away and live my own life without the realization that I didn't have what everyone else did. And now I know just how much I love them all,- how I couldn't live without them even if I tried. I don't care anymore that my dad isn't related to me, or that my mom is ill, or that my best friend isn't a young college student like me. Who cares if I have a relationship with two different families, despite our never having a single drop of blood to tie us together? It's so obvious how much more love and kindness I get than your average kid, and even though I feel alone and uncertain about things, I just need to keep telling myself that I have a rock, a foundation that will always be there for me, no matter what.

Coming to Cork was the second best decision I have ever made in my life. It may not have solved my problems of what I want to do in the long run, but I've come to terms with who I am as a person, and the people who have shaped me into what I am today. I love my family, more than anything in the world, and I'm so happy that I can finally say that. I've traveled over the English channel, got lost in Paris, rode my first train into a little beach town, saw my first Irish cow, walked the hide tide of Bantry, pushed my way through the streets of Dublin, burnt my tongue on my first droplets of apple cider, and ate pigs hooves all in three months. If that didn't change my life, then I might as well be shot.

Paris, Half and Half

My journey was rather scary, and stressful. I had no clue that the city was so large that most, if not everyone there takes hundreds of underground trains on a daily basis to get to wherever it is they're going. It's no wonder that a trip to Paris should be for at least a week, because you end up spending half the day through dark tunnels in unstable railway carts.

Upon my arrival in Cork Airport, an announcer informed my friend and I that the flight would be delayed for about 10 minutes. No biggie. Slowly as time passed by, there would be another announcement to say that the flight would be delayed another 10 minutes. This continued until the airplane was an hour late. After a sigh of relief (it may have been canceled due to all the snow happening around us), we finally boarded for gay Paris!

The first French I heard was on the plane, which prompted me even more to want to scream up and down that I was finally seeing a historical city, filled with art, music, and amazing food. After 1 hour and 40 minutes, we landed. Getting off the plane was hard at first, because I was somewhat motion sick. Soon after I hit land, there awaited me some slanted escalators surrounded in clear, plastic tubes. To be honest, I don't know how I didn't throw up after the 3rd or 4th one that I had to ride, but eventually I made it out of there.

Charles de Gaulle Airport is a tricky one to figure out. After meandering around for a good 15 minutes, I finally got the guts to go up to the information desk. "Je ne parle pas Francais. Parlez vous anglais?" The lady there smiled and said: "oui." Then I got cracking down to business, asked her how to get to Le Kremlin Bicetre, and she gave me a map to follow. My friend and I stopped at terminal 3, bought a ticket, and then got on the train to terminal 2. We ended up in the wrong part of the station, and one of the workers at the airport was kind enough to point us in the right direction.

Eventually we got off at Denfert Rochereau, which was marked on our map. Sarah and I had to walk from there to Place d'Itale, but since neither of us knew where we were going, I decided to call her friend Ben. We ended up waiting thirty minutes before he called us back to say he was there. So we went outside to try and find him, but without any luck. After frolicking about for 20 minutes out in the freezing cold, Ben told us to look for the lion statue, which we spotted and made our way towards with happy results.

Ben had no clue as to where we were staying. Then he found out that the B&B was right outside Paris, in Le Kremlin Bicetre and he didn't know how to get us there. So we asked for directions in a nearby hotel. After waiting for a good 25 minutes (the receptionist kept getting distracted with phone calls), we were able to get a move on towards our destination.

Time was running out. I had told our hostess that we would arrive between 4pm and 6pm, and by the time we were finished getting directions, it was just past 7. On top of that, the couple that runs the B&B was leaving for the theatre at 8pm, and I wasn't sure if they spoke English (other wise I would of called them). About 5 minutes from the B&B, I got a phone call from our hostess, who did speak English, and I tried asking her if they were at home, but she couldn't understand me. She finally realized what I was saying, and said that they "we're not at the home." In the background, I heard her husband shout: "HOUSE!" and she repeated with: "We're not at the house." It was really cute.

So then we went to a little French restaurant right across the street from where we were staying. There wasn't a whole lot of cuisine on the menu, so Sarah and I split a pig tray that had about 6-8 different meats from one single pig! There was also a sausage that had hooves in it, which was rather bland. Ham was also on the platter, very thinly sliced with lots of salt, which I didn't care for, either. Some of the stuff tasted like beef jerky, and it was alright. The best part of the meal was the French bread, which was simply perfect. Before ordering the meal, the chief came out to help us out. He spoke some English, which was very helpful in the end. I tried asking for Coke, but he misunderstood it as wine, and asked if I wanted red or white. I couldn't help but laugh, and look dumbfounded at Ben. He finally told the Chief that I wanted "Coca." So there you have it: Coke = Coca in France. :)

Ben left, and Sarah and I made our way to the apartment on our own. I stood outside trying to figure out how to get in. I rang a bell, but no one answered. Then someone called my phone, and I picked up to hear Pellay (that's our hostess) saying they were back now and we could come at anytime. I told her we were outside, and the next thing I know, this garage door starts opening up and there she is!

The house was amazing. The garage was small, and the walls were lined with books on shelves. Pellay opened up a very long glass door into the house. The walls were either covered in books or paintings that were created by her husband and other various artists. On the ground floor was the kitchen and livingroom (it was all in the same space), bathroom, toliet (it had it's own separate, connecting room), and a small alcove underneath the stairs with even more wall covered books and an office area. Upstairs was another area with computers and a sewing machine. This branched off into two rooms, our bedroom and theirs.

Our room was the best place I have ever stayed in my entire life. Every square inch of wall spouted fairy tales, art, history, and beyond. An oil painting held up by thin boards on the ceiling hung over our heads as we laid to rest in our feathery soft bed. Next to where we were sleeping was an early 1900s sewing machine, and an old squeaky horn. I slept so well that night, that when I woke, I had no clue where I was and how I got there!

That's part one of my story. I'm so exhausted and tired from my trip, that I will have to tell more later. :)

O' tidings of comfort and joy!

Two days later, and I'll be on that airplane towards good ol' Paris. I'm hoping my clothes that I just washed last night dry in time for either late night Thursday or early morning Friday packing. I swear, the washer in this house is on 24/7. Other wise I would of have washed them earlier in the week.

I finally received my Victorian Literature and 19th Century America Literature essays. I didn't do so well on the Victorian paper, and ended up with 3rd year honours (D+ or C-, I think)? The English board that grades them (not just the professor, but several), said my writing was weak and had lots of errors. It didn't phase me much, because in all seriousness, I am not trained enough to write in class essays. Give me an hour, and I do poorly, but hand me an essay with at least seven hours to complete, and the final piece will be wonderfully done.

On a better note, my 19th century paper earned me second class honours, which I would say is either an A- or a high B+. Their grading scale has different "honors", so it's difficult to compare to the American scale. First year honours is the most sought after and is very challenging to obtain. Anyhow, my paper was missing some sub-thesis points, but overall it was sound. So take that 3rd year Victorian paper. I CAN do better than that!

By the way, here's a link to the grading system, as well as other information for visiting students:

http://www.ucc.ie/en/study/international/visiting-eu/examinations/

I'm almost broke, but only because I just withdrew all my money for the trip. I looked at my bank account and thought: "Oh goodness. That's scary looking." But then I had to remind myself that I'm only here for two more weeks there after, and I have plenty of food left to eat. It's been nice living on my own and having to balance how much I spend. I normally end up going over, but this time around I've been able to keep myself financially stable and not spend euro on everything I see and want. It's especially hard when living in the city, and all around you there is nothing but windows packed with luxury items glaring at you with every step. It's as almost as if I'm preparing myself for the real world.

5 more days until Paris!

Attention: M&Ms do not taste the same. Anyways...

I just booked my Bed and Breakfast. It's in the Place D'italie district, on the right hand side of the city. The bedroom walls are covered in books, and the downstairs is simply gorgeous. Not sure if the link will work, but here's some pictures:

http://www.2binparis.com/en/bb-le-kremlin-bic%EAtre/guesde.html

Leaving on Friday morning, and returning around noon Sunday. Which reminds me, I need to start on laundry tomorrow, and charge up my camera before hand. I plan on bringing my charger, because I want to take as many pictures as possible.

It's been a bit hectic over here in terms of traveling arrangements and rehearsals. My instructor decided to inform everyone that we had to come in all day Saturday and Sunday this weekend. I've already spent 330 dollars on plane tickets, which can't be refunded. So I'm just going to go on the trip anyways. My part in the play is not very big, and it's not my fault no one said anything until now. Besides, it's my only chance to go to Paris, and I've waited forever to go. So I'm not going to miss it.

Thanksgiving dinner was perfect. The Iona Student Chapel hosted the gathering, and I was able to enjoy honey ham, turkey, roasted potatoes, mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, candied yams, and stuffing. All of it was very good. Afterward, a friend and I hit up Johnny Rocket's for some ice cream. I kid you not, if you come to Ireland and love orange soda, do not miss out on getting a Fanta orange float! It's the best thing I've ever had. Think of orange dreamcicles exploding in your mouth. It's that amazing.

These m&ms are disappointing. Believe me when I say I'm a pretty open person when it comes to trying out food (I've already tried a lot stuff- stuffing, mashed potato and turkey bowl, sausage rolls, Shepard's pie, etc ), but I miss my chocolate. It seriously does not taste the same over here. The only thing that came close to the American version was a Crunch Bar, and that didn't even suffice. Only three more weeks and I'll be snacking on kitkats and candy canes...

THANKSGIVINGTHANKSGIVINGTHANKSGIVING

Thanksgiving. A time where you can eat the best food, and spend time with your family all in one day. That won't be the case this year, but lucky enough for us exchange students, there is a feast. A 7pm feast to be exact at The New Bar in the student center. Can it please come sooner? Why do I have class on Thanksgiving, and can it come right now? I want my turkey! I should have an excuse to miss class, right? Aww, come on!!

It's strange how the weather works around here. At the moment it is bitterly cold, and after a week of clear skies, it decided to rain again. Before that we had two weeks worth of non-stop rain, which drove us all into a great depression with soaking wet shoes and complaints. Stay away rain, or turn into snow, thanks.

My roomies brought me a bottle of French wine yesterday. It's rather splendid, and very smooth. None of that too bitter of a taste, or too sweet, but perfectly delicious. If I had room next year for wine tasting, I'd be the first volunteer to do so. I still can't believe I'm a senior, and yet I have another year and a half to go. Can't wait for graduation!!

I'm so excited for France!! 10 more days until I'll be jumping around on the Eiffel Tower, and visiting the pitifully small Mona Lisa. What's neat is how we as Americans are influenced by French art at a young age, and so we grow up with this yearning to see this stuff that we hear so much about. Despite it being such a touristy thing to do, it's really apart of us as well. At least to me it is. I feel like I'm paying homage to all those famous artists who taught me about lines, balance and all the other elements that come with art when I finally go see their original paintings and sculptures. Not only is it a learning experience, but also a longing deep inside of me that's finally being full filled.

It's so nice buying good quality drawing paper around here for almost half the price it costs at home. A pad of paper typically costs anywhere between $7-$15 dollars, but here I'm spending $4.36. The crappy paper from Walmart costs $5.00, so I'm still spending less! I also got a hardbound sketch book for only $5.36 dollars, which would have been around $11 at home. I wish my suitcase had enough room for several sketchbooks, but unfortunately I'll have to limit myself with what I've already bought. Oh, and I converted the euros into dollars, so the prices I have listed are in fact dollars. :)

I'm so exhausted! I got zero sleep Saturday night due to an incident with one of my roommates. She decided to bring home three drunk men from the club, and they all proceeded to jump around to music blasting from her speaker, while periodically banging on Jillian and I's bedroom door. This lasted until 8am. I woke up around noon to find our living room floor covered in sticky beer, my clothes off the drying rack and all over the floor, the rest of my alcohol consumed, and the little door from underneath of my laptop slightly open with some wires hanging out. Luckily there was no damage done, but I was beyond mad with rage. No sleep, and the possibility of some idiot dropping my laptop on the floor (I'm sure that's what happened). Oh, and one of my pads of sketch paper had been stomped on, causing it to wrinkle and crease, so I just now had to go buy a new one.

Monday night I was up until 5am watching the K-State V.S. Gonzaga game, which was more than worth it! If anyone coming to Cork is a huge KSU basketball fan, just know that you'll probably be up at ungodly hours to watch the games. Last night against Duke started at three in the morning. I went to bed early due to my lack of sleep from the night before, woke up around 2:45am, and said: "We're going to get our asses handed to us," and went back to bed. Sure enough...

Time to read Huckleberry Finn and Sherlock Holmes. I seriously should of started on these books a long time ago, since I decided not to read anything else. Oddly enough, I don't feel like a bad student, because I write one essay for only one book instead of having to take quizzes on each story or having to write an essay that links them altogether. Unless you have a deep passionate love for 19th century literature, then there's really no point in reading a book that bores you to tears. Seriously! I tried to read Kim, a novel about a British boy in India, but twenty pages in and I couldn't take it anymore. I did read most of Fredrick Douglass's Slave Narrative, which I do find rather interesting, and I do plan on finishing it. I understand the need to get students to read classics, but with all the materials and resources out there today, I feel like we should get to pick what we want to read as opposed to being forced to open up a novel that some scholarly professor deems as "brilliant and a must read." I don't consider myself stupid for preferring Truman Copote's short stories over Tess of the D'urbervilles. Yes, it's completely different and they have nothing to do with each other, yet when I start having to force myself to reread each page in Tess 3-4 times in order to absorb it's boring content, I find it rather pointless and more work than enjoyable. My point is, we all have different interests, so why not let us the students pick from a wide range of material to discuss instead of just what the professor would like us to read? /end rant.

It's the little things.

You know how we call those little extra things that come from with using a credit card "rewards?" Well here in Ireland they're called "treats." Odd, huh?

And don't go into Mcdonald's asking for curly fries (they have those here), because it's Twirly fries, and if they say crisp, don't be surprised either. Crisps = fries, chips = chips or fries. It's a complex thing.

Holy. Mother. of. Pearl. When they say "Big Tasty" they actually mean it! When every single thing around here comes in tiny cups and little boxes, it will blow your mind once you actually see this sandwich. Oh, and expect a medium fries when you order a large. That's just how it works.

What's strange to me is how they try and get you to buy things. Chips, cola, beer, etc. will have "20% more!" or "35% extra." Lots of percentages are used, but what gets me is that I don't really fall for it as much as I do when I read "Buy one get one free" or "50% more." 10%-40% just doesn't sound like a lot to me, so I don't feel eager to buy the item as much.

This past week I tried my first Swedish strawberry-lime cider, and it was heaven. Tastes just like strawberry soda pop. I also had my first wine cooler, and that was pretty good as well. For those of you who are not 21 yet, it might be nice for you to know that the drinking age is 18 around here. The only thing is, most pubs will only serve drinks to people between the ages of 21 and 23. Not all of them, but don't be surprised if you're denied alcohol.

Just a side note: If you want hamburgers, go to Burger King, but if you want chicken, hit up either Mcdonalds or Hillbillies. Mcdonald's has the worst hamburgers around here. My Big Tasty was charcoaled black, and the last few times I've had a Quarter Pounder, it was dry and tasteless. Super yuck and disappointing. Also, in the afternoons Mcdonald's is so packed that you have to wait almost 20-30 minutes to eat, but if you go right across the street to Burger King, it's nearly empty. ;)

I'm currently thinking about taking a pastry class from a little known shop called Petits Fours. The website is: http://www.petitsfours.ie

I haven't looked at their courses or anything yet, but I always walk past them on my way to UCC (on Washington street), and there are chefs rolling out dough every morning. It looks and smells amazing! Oh, and if you buy their hot chocolate, you can get marshmallows that they made themselves! It is a bit expensive for hot chocolate (3.75 euro), but that's what I normally pay for chai and the occasional mocha, so it's not too bad.

I've spent the last few days coloring and sitting around the apartment while listening to French music. I now have three day weekends, so tomorrow I'll be hanging around, too. Wednesday Morning there's a free Thanksgiving breakfast, and on Thursday there's a dinner as well. The free dinner is located at the Iona chapel, and in addition to that there's also The Bar, which is serving turkey, ham, and hot dogs (lol) for a fee. I'm so glad I won't have to miss out on my favorite holiday! There's no way I was going to learn how to bake a turkey all in one week.

12 days till Paris! Did you know that the Republic of Ireland is more expensive than Paris? Which makes life so much more awesome, because I really want to bring back some amazing souvenirs. And yes, do not be fooled into thinking Cork is going to be cheaper than other European countries. Although England tends to be expensive, my guess is that you end up spending just about as much here as you would outside of London. In fact, here's a price list of what one would normally pay for basics:

Bread: 1.50 euro

Starbucks coffee: 3.50 euro (medium/grande)

2 litre soda: 2 euro

Tooth paste: 2.50 euro

Chips: 3 euro

Meal for one person: 3.50-5 euro

Canned veggies: 1.35 euro

Candy bar: 1.50-2 euro

Pound of ground beef: 3-5 euro (2 euro at English Market)

Pricing for some essentials:

Comforter: 30 euro

Pillow: 10 euro

Sheets: 15-25 euro

Headphones: 16-35 euro

Blanket: 5 euro

Shoes: 9.00-200.00+ euro

Shirt: 5-25+ euro

Pants/jeans: 25-40+ euro

Colored pencils: 15 euro+

Drawing paper: 3.25-8 euro+

Anyways, that's all I've got to say. Time for some music and pastry class searching. :)

Only three weeks till Paris!!

Bonjour mes amis!

Actually, it's only two weeks and six days away. I'm super pumped, as I have been wanting to visit France for a good two or three years now. Anyway, I was looking up places to visit, and I found a video about really cool toy and crafts store that's just for adults. Here's a link:

http://video.about.com/goparis/Paris---Tumbleweed-Toys.htm

Here's the website if you don't want to watch the video or have an interest:

http://www.tumbleweedparis.com/home.html

I really want one of the wind up toys, but I'm not sure how much it's going to cost. Some of the boxes are 100 euro! I also really like some of her bags as well.

I haven't really done a whole lot of looking up information on Paris, since my friend's friend is going to be our tour guide the whole time we're there. Aside from the usual attractions (The Louvre, Champs Elysees, and the Eiffel Tower), I hope to see at least one French castle, and tackle a really fancy chocolate shop. Maybe even grab some real champaign, and gorge on all that delicious food. I haven't figured out where I'm staying yet, but it will either be a Bed and Breakfast, or a hostel. Hotels are very expensive (I think it would be about 200 euro for two nights stay), so that's probably out of the question.

Irish food facts of the day!:

1. Mounds candy bars are called "Bounty" in Ireland.

2. Ritz crackers are known as "Tuc."

3. There are no saltine crackers.

4. Lots of stores have deals on large tins of candy everyday.

5. Regular sized soda cans are not sold in packs. Only the small ones are!

6. Capri Sun exists.

7. Anything gummy (gummy bears, gummy worms, etc) is called "gums."

8. Whoopers are called "Maltesers."

9. Lifesavers are known as "Polo."

10. In Ireland, they make Rolo pudding, and Rolo doughnuts!

11. Nestle Crunch = Aero

12. Frosted Flakes are simply named "Frosted."

13. Lays chips have been renamed "Walkers."

14. BBQ sauce in the pubs is called "Brown Sauce."

15. I can't think of anything else. Haha. :P

Has found sweet nectar once again!

There's a place called Bradley's, which isn't too far from the Cork Gate Cinema around the corner. Guess what they got? Dr. Pepper!! I was looking for it in all of the little grocery and convince stores on my way back home, and there it sat not more than three feet away. Sadly enough, I love it more than Coke here. Coke is waaaaay too sweet! I can't wait to go back to the Americana version. It will be glorious and tasty.

Today I came to the conclusion of why people argue with me: Trust. If I say something, it is not right. If I say that what someone is saying is incorrect, they do not trust me and continue to jump down my throat until I hush. Stuff that's not even political or all that controversial even. Every time I open my mouth, it's as if it has to be attacked until I am proved to be in the wrong. Petty stuff like knowing that some outlet stores sell clothing that is not sewn properly or the fact that the movie theatre is only twenty minutes away. These are actual things that I have been technically told: "No, you're wrong, the clothing is rarely sewn wrong, or it's a 25-30 minute walk." I've bought garments that were not sewn correctly, and I have walked to the movie theatre. I know these things, and yet people are basically saying I'm too stupid to know this despite having experience. Makes me angry and upset more than I should be.

Ten things I like about Ireland.

When I first came to Cork, I noticed several things that I didn't like, but there was also somethings I truly wish I had back home. So here's the list I've complied:

10. Year round sparkling grape juice: You see it in the grocery store just before Christmas and around New Years. Well here in Ireland, they've got it permanently stacked on their shelves. It's called Shloer, and it comes in four flavors: Grape, Berry, White Grape and Apple, and Rose. I like the White Grape and Apple myself.

9. Tax free food: Oh the money I could save if it was like this in America!

8. Wildlife park: Kansas City and Topeka have pretty nice zoos, but nothing can compare to Fota Wildlife Park, where lemurs roam free, and giraffes stand very close near to you.

7. Easy access: Most towns and cities in Ireland keep shops and grocery stores close together, so you can walk wherever you'd like to in 5-15 minutes, as opposed to the 30 minute walk to Walmart in Manhattan.

6. Hillbillies Fried Chicken. 'Nuff said.

5. Ready made meals: In the US, we do you have refrigerated prepackaged meals, such as mac n' cheese or potato salad. But if you want a full meal, such as raviolis or burritos, then you have to get it from the frozen foods section or in a can. However, in Ireland, they have a whole store devoted to these types of meals from the refrigerator. Thai, Chinese, Mexican, American, and Italian straight from the Mark and Spencers fridge. Takes only 2-5 minutes to heat, and tastes better than frozen!

4. Year round Cadbury Cream Eggs: That's right. You can get them for Halloween AND Christmas aside from Easter. I guess not all the time, most certainly not during the summer months but it exists longer than it does at home. I know I said I was tired of Cadbury, but their eggs taste slightly different from their candy bars, which makes a whole lot of difference. I just finished one, in fact...

3. Three hour classes: You're probably wondering if I'm on drugs or if my brain went slightly askew, but there's more to it than that: Three hour theatre classes! Intense, lots of exercises (yoga in particular), and lots of human interaction. I love it, and wish my theatre classes at K-State were the same way.

2. Wine in the pubs: Most bars in Aggieville do not have wine. So I have to flutter around completely sober until I do find a bar that has some decent stuff. That's not the case with Irish Pubs at all! Every single place I know has wine in one form or the other. Usually it's not Chardonnay, which is a downside, but White Zinfandel and Rose wine work perfectly well.

1. Politeness. The one things I know that will sting me more than anything else when I return home is how impolite most Americans can be. It's not a stereotype, and certainly something I know more about considering the fact that I am an extremely polite individual. I felt right at home here when I heard the amount of "Thanks a millions" and "Your very welcomes" from random people on the street, to the cashiers at Supervalu. They don't even stop thanking you for purchasing groceries until you've left the que! Now how many American employees can you say do that even once?

The things I miss about home.

So I haven't really been faithful to the blog. I've posted here and there, but not as regularly as I would like too. Anyways, it came to my attention the amount of complaints from teenagers and young adults alike about the USA and why it's so terrible, or why they don't want to live there. After living in Ireland for a few months, I've realized just how lucky I am to be an American. Here's a few things I'm looking forward to when I return home:

1. Warm water. Most facets here have a cold water and a hot water sprout, not one that's together. If there's only one, it's still separate water, just coming out of two different sides. I often burn myself washing dishes, because the hot water often escapes the wraith of the cold.

2. Reliable dryers. In my apartment, our washer and dryer are one and the same. The only problem is, the dryer doesn't get the job done. So we have to hang our clothes on a rack.

3. Dr. Pepper and Rootbeer. Now I did find Dr. Pepper in the small town of Bantry, but no where else has it caught my eye. Rootbeer doesn't exist as far as I know, which makes me one sad consumer.

4. Food true to the expiration date. You will find your milk going bad three days before it expires, as well as other dairy products. Cream cheese that's supposed to last forever can go bad in a matter of weeks after opening it. Same with bread.

5. 24/7 internet. Most apartments do not have very reliable internet. There will be days when it won't even come up, or it decides to be extremely slow to the point where you can't even use it.

6. Hardcore education. Now I can't say that I don't like having only two papers per class during the semester instead of lots of quizzes, homework, and tests, but the reality is I feel lazy. Now there are plenty of clubs and societies to get involved with, but the 25 minute walk at 7pm when there are hookers around makes it less appealing. I also feel like I've lost reason to attend my lectures, because even though they're helpful in understanding the material, the essays are really more about what you find within the book and not what they tell you in class.

7. 24/7 library. The UCC library closes at 8pm during the week, and around noon or so on Saturdays and Sundays. There's also a one euro fee per day if you don't turn in your book on time. I really miss studying and checking out books in Hale at one in the morning. :(

8. Walmart/Target. There, I said it. Even though Walmart is not my favorite place in the world, I do crave it's massive stock of cheap goods and tasty snacks. There's Tesco, but it doesn't even compare to the greatness of Wally World or Targe' (is that you spell it)?? It's just so convenient to have everything all in one place, instead of scrambling to hop from one store to the other, just so you can get milk and colored pencils.

9. Chocolate. Particularly milk chocolate. It tastes so different here, and I'm actually getting tired of Cadbury and digestive biscuits (chocolate covered cookies). I was disappointed to find my kitkat bars were not the same flavor as the ones at home. It tastes more like a dark chocolate, only less bittersweet.

10. Mexican food. I miss it with a dying passion! You can make tacos, but it's just not the same as Manny's or any other authentic restaurant on South West Blvd. Rest assured, I will eat my chicken tacos the day I come home. George, if you are reading this, plan on going to Manny's. Oh, and that new Jack in the Box. I gotta hit that up too...

Tomorrow I'll post ten things about Ireland that I wish we had in Kansas.

Best processed fried chicken EVER.

You know that post way way back, when I was still in the US, and it had to do with Hillbillies Fried Chicken Express? Well, there's one not very far from where I live, and for some reason or another I just didn't have the temptation to try it out. That is until tonight, and oh boy, I was in for the treat of my life! Forget KFC, it doesn't exist. These juicy, tender strips made with good greasy spices has won my heart over all the other chicken out there, including Mcnuggets. So the next you're in Cork, or any place else in Ireland and have a hunger for some good 'ol fast food chicken, try Hillbillies. Just do it.

This past Friday I went shopping with my roommate's friend from Minnesota. I ended up finding a few last minute Christmas/souvenir gifts, which was really nice. Saturday I finally took it upon myself to see the Blarney Stone, and it was totally worth it! I had no idea that there was so much to see there. Lots of rock formations, wishing steps, waterfalls, fairy stones, Witch's Kitchen, and tons of other stuff. It was the most gorgeous place I have ever been too, and now I know why every knows about it. :)

It has been raining cats and dogs for over a week now. Saturday was the only day that there was a couple hours between showers, but the rest of the time it's either pouring, or sprinkling. If the rain continues on as it has been, Cork could flood again for the second time in a row. I live right by the river, so I'm not sure how bad it can get if it were to happen. Luckily I'm on the third floor, so I should be ok.

My Victorian Literature class got canceled this week, which is good because I was going to skip class in order to finally get my immigration card. I'll probably get yelled at for bringing in the paper work so late, but there's not much else I could have done. I just hope there won't be any complications, because I really want to go to France in December...

Searching for the perfect chai latte.

There are plenty of coffee shops and cafes in Cork, and as someone who dearly misses her Radina's sweet chai, it's taken me awhile to find something similar or tasty enough to satisfy my cravings. Here's a list ranking the best and the worst chai in and around the city:

5. Cuppa Cafe: This little gem is just around the corner of Copley St. Judging by the large crowd that builds up during lunch time, it's certainly safe to say their sandwiches are pretty good. I'm kind of torn about this place, because the first Chai I had was too sweet, and the second time around it was very, very bland. It certainly isn't the best choice compared to the other places.

4. Kent Train Station: I don't know the name of the coffee place, but that's where it's located. On their menu is a chai latte shake, which of course I couldn't resist ordering. The texture was perfectly smooth, not too thick and not too thin. The overall affect was sweet, but the flavor was more cinnamon than honey tea with the added spice. If you want to try something new, but not too picky about chai, I recommend this tasty treat.

3. Coffee Station: Located right across from the main entrance of UCC, this is one of the best places around. Their chai tastes very similar to Starbucks, and the only reason it's number 3 instead of 2, is because they make it scolding hot. It took a good twenty minute walk before it cooled down, and by then I already made the mistake of burning my tongue.

2. The Coffee Desk Cafe: You will find this tucked inside the first hallway on the left in the ORB/O'reilly building Building at UCC. They serve Starbucks coffee and chai tea, which I've always liked to an extent. The spices do tend to over power the tea flavoring, but in a good way. Plus, you get more bang for your buck. A large is only 5 cents more than a medium, although the sizing is different from our own. A medium = our small, and a large = our medium. So for a little more (unlike the other cafes in town), you can get what you paid for.

1. Cafe Depeche: Today was a great day! I finally got around to entering this little espresso bar, located on Washington street, and I literally found the perfect substitute. Creamy, smooth, with a honey tea taste and a little cinnamon on top, this little guy was HEAVEN. The downside was the size. A medium, which costs 3 euro, is an extra small. So the next time I go, I'll probably shell closer to 4 euro for a regular cup, but it will totally be worth it.

Fun fact: There aren't very many billboards in Cork. There are also no advertising polls with the billboard on top. All the ads are pasted up on the walls of buildings. The same goes for street signs! Instead of a poll stuck in the ground, each sign is nailed into the walls of brick buildings throughout the city. It's actually quite difficult to find your way around with a map because there's so many streets, and the signs are hiding.

Stress Stress Stress

Today I was supposed to finally get around to visiting immigration to finish getting paper work and obtain my card. But I made the mistake of leaving my statement letter in one of my notebooks, which by the way got left behind in class yesterday.

I planned on going last Friday morning, but my alarm didn't go off. I don't really have time now to go get it done, and I'm very late in doing so. I might skip class next week just to get it over with, but at the moment, I'm pulling my hair out and simply can't understand how I can mess up twice in a row.

I have my first exam today for 19th Century America. I feel pretty prepared, since I've gone over more than one book, and we only have to answer one question pertaining to one book (except for Herman Melville, because we have to write on Bartleby and Benito Cerano). 50% of this test will count towards my grade, so I'm hoping very much so that I pass. I do have confidence in my ability to write essays, it's just choosing reasonable answers that makes things difficult. Oh, and the opening few sentences. I get stumped sometimes...

My milk went bad three days before it was supposed too. I suspect my fridge is getting old, and isn't keeping things at the correct temperature anymore. I'll need to call my landlady and see if she has any advice, because I'm tired of wasting food. Just the other day I had throw out my hamburger meat because it had gone bad the day before expiration! For now I guess I'll be making more trips to the grocery store than I would like too.

As scary as this sounds, there are prostitutes on our street at night. Yesterday on my way back from auditioning for Snow White, one of them spotted me up ahead and started yelling. I walked past her, not sure why I was being yelled at. She said: "I don't understand you," "Yayaya, whatever," and then: "Ok, goodbye!" Perhaps she thought I was invading her own turf? Strange though, considering I was dressed in layers with a peacoat and a teddy bear hat...

The strange thing about living here so long is that I stop learning new things or rather, the new things don't come to me as fast. I still wish I could compile more lists of interesting stuff, but there really isn't anything that comes to mind these days. The thing about Ireland is that it's similar to the US, but it's not in it's own strange way. The houses, the language, and night life are very different, but most everything else is similar. So in effect, there's not a whole lot to say.

Happy Halloween!

Today is a pretty crummy Halloween due to the hard pouring rain. Last night my roommates and I went to a Halloween party downstairs, and our way to the liquor store (we had to stock up!), the rain came down and eventually turned into a real storm of disappointment, and has continued to be the same throughout the today.

I bought myself a Crunch bar a week ago, and have now gotten around to munching on it's American chocolaty goodness. I rarely if ever purchase candy around here, because as I've said before, it's very thick and packed with tons of sugar. Especially their soft drinks, which can be very tiring after sometime. Oh, and huge note: If you buy the juice drink Mi Wadi, do note that you're supposed to add four parts water to one part juice. I learned that the hard way and ended up with a very sour expression on my face.

I've finally got my schedule for next semester done! I was originally going to tackle 18 hours, but then I found out my future roomie and good friend was taking Biology, and I decided what better than to take it now and have a study buddy? I've been wanting to get out of the way for the longest time anyhow, so now my hours are cut down to 16. My original schedule included Intro to Fiction Writing, and Improv, but those got cut out in the final drafting. I really, really want to take improv, but graduating on time is much more important. Here's what I'm taking next semester:

Theatre Forum

Intro to Philosophy of Religion

Fundamentals of Technical Production

Intro to Theatrical Design

Principles of Biology

Intro to Womens Studies

I feel like a Freshman more than I do a Senior! I guess it's because I haven't been doing my best here at UCC. I have two written exams, and despite trying to answer questions on the novels I've read, I just can't seem to understand what they're asking me to write or coming up with antiquate answers. Oh, for those of you who are not extremely fluent in the complex language of English (and I'm talking about big words like ambiguity or aesthetic ambition), do note that the questions they want you to answer are no walk in the park. Not because the answer is difficult, but the actual question is ridiculously hard to unscramble. I know that most people in college are genius or have a very wide range of knowledge beyond my very own, but it's still frustrating not being able to do this because I'm a little on the slow side. Ugh. Double ugh.

Wednesday night was a blast! UCC Dramat and all the other societies have what are called "Mystery Tourers." Usually the meeting place is at Bailey's Bar, and everyone hops on a bus to an unknown destination. The place in particular will be a pub or a club, where every drinks and has fun. Since this was for Halloween, everyone dressed up, danced to live music, played bobbing for apples (on strings), and cheered for those who won costume prizes. My first try at biting the apple on a string turned out to be unsuccessful, with the apple breaking off the string! The second time (which was more of a competition), I managed to swing the apple on my shoulder and get a slight bite on the upper part near the stem. My prize? A swig from the chilled bottle of Yeager, which I had never had before, but was most delicious. Yeager is a chilled German Liquor that should be tried once in everyone's life time. Unless you're opposed to alcohol, which is fine, too.

I learned something last night: Never push my limits with wine. At the Halloween party, everyone was playing drinking games, and I just let myself go. Normally I wouldn't, but since my apartment was upstairs, I saw it fit to have some fun. I managed to down three glasses of wine in an hour, and I ended up getting really sick. I had this happen during the summer, although at a much slower rate and with a larger alcohol content. After last nights episode, I've come to realize the importance of knowing when to stop and to be responsible. Drinking games are fun, but no one would take it too far, especially just because everyone else is doing it. They might just have a higher tolerance than you.

Guess what? I've got my K-State basketball tickets!! The sad news is I will be missing the first six games, hindering me from possibly attending the KU game. I went to every single game, and one person in my group didn't go to very many (maybe 4? or 5?), and we got seats in the second to last row. I don't even know if anyone will add me to their group, let alone have enough points to balance everything and allow us entry. Hopefully so.

Welp, I need to continue my studiousness and answer practice exam questions before the real thing on Tuesday and Wednesday. I also have to read for my voice class tomorrow, and figure out how I'm going to warm up for tomorrow's audition for Snow White. It's going to be a Pantomime show for kids. I'm not sure when the dates of performance are, however, so I might not get to do it.