Sunshine and S**t

This past weekend was absolutely beautiful in Dublin. The temperature was around 13 degrees, there was quite a bit of sun, and everyone was out enjoying the weather. I spent most of Saturday doing the housework thing and worked Saturday night, but after the clouds parted on Sunday morning, I decided to head into town and enjoy one of the city's parks. Merrion Square is very close to St Stephen's Green but I'd never been inside. It's located across from the National Art Gallery and Museum of Natural History. It's much smaller than Stephen's Green but is beautiful and very tranquil. It kind of reminded me of The Secret Garden. There were children running around on a scavenger hunt. The sun was shinning, the leaves were out on all the trees, everything was green and the air smelled of flowers. It was such a relaxing picture, which was only then destroyed by the sounds of the kids running around, screaming at each other. Apparently taking part in a scavenger hunt brought out undesirable behaviour in a few of the kids. The tranquility of the afternoon was shattered when I walked by a bench of teenage girls, only to hear one scream at a group of boys running by, "giv ovr ya greedy poxy bastard!" I'm pretty sure she was only 12, but her mouth helped to illustrate the lovely young lady she was morphing into. Ah Ireland, you never stop making me laugh. I love the quick wit over here. It's as though everyone is permanently ready with a joke to throw your way or some smart comment. I went into Reads on Nassau Street to buy the Sunday Times and when I picked it up, or heaved it up on my hip as it was so heavy, I made a comment to the older woman standing next to me about how big it was. She quickly replied, without missing a beat, "You'd need a hand cart for that one." You'd never get anything like that back home. I never want to leave.

Fite Nite

That's what I woke up to last night just after midnight. There's no school this week so all the little kiddies are out, partying it up like they did across the street from my place last night. I woke up to screaming and the sounds of feet slapping on pavement and then...thud, thud...ah yes, someone was getting the crap kicked out of him on my street. What did I do? Put on the old glasses, pulled back the curtain and watched the show. Acutally, I wasn't exactly enjoying it, just praying that no one was getting seriously injured cause then it woulda just gone on forever. One of my neighbours must have have the gardai as a big truck pulled up a few minutes later. This is my Ireland. At least once a weekend I wake up around 3am to the sounds of some drunk rambling up my street, singing songs about the good old boys (not Luke and Duke), and fighting for Ireland. Classic. I can't wait to go to sleep tonight!

4:45 am

That's what time I woke up this morning to birds chirping happily away outside my window. 4:45 am! I have to get up at 6:15 to get ready for work and am also an incredibly light sleeper so when I heard the little birdies twittering away, I thought it was also time to get up. What is wrong with the birds over here?! I appreciate the fact that it's spring and Ireland actually has spring-like weather unlike the snow and rain we get in Canada, but birds, seriously, go easy on the chirping! You've got months and months of warm cackling weather to go before it gets cold again. Plus, you're making me really cranky!

Sigh.

I'm sitting behind a reception desk on one of the few beautiful, sunny days over here, contemplating my lack of career and my ever expanding behind. I curse the day I discovered a scale in my bathroom, now I weigh myself every single day. This is not a good thing. I'm growing very tired of answering the phone and buzzing people into the building. I'm also growing very tired of correcting people on the proper pronunciation of my name. At least in Canada there's a strong chance that a person will have learned a little French and at least be able to sound out the letters. Over here they've learned Irish for generations, therefore they have no absolutely no background. Sigh.

Everyone is coming in, telling me how "luuvly" and "gargous" it is outside. I feel like a mindless lump sitting here. This is not exactly how I imagined my life would be at age 27. What a disappointment. I am very much enjoying my time over here but my working holiday visa is up in over five months and my dream of being sponsored by a company to stay here and work is fading fast. An older coworker told me today that when he graduated university in 1980 everyone was desperate to get a visa for Canada or the US. He said he never would have imagined that in over twenty years time that people would be trying to get permanent work in Ireland. Who knew? I honestly have no idea what I have to do to get work here. Man, this is so depressing. I've gotta stop for today.

Easter Rising

I realise that Easter is over but I thought I'd fill you in on my first holiday on my own. I haven't been home in ages but this was my first official holiday alone. The weather was fantastic. It was warm and sunny with some clouds at times but on average it was about 10 degrees. That's like a tropical paradise compared to the frigid wasteland of Canada. I remember getting homemade dresses and skipping ropes at Easter as a child and having the daft dream of skipping on the street under the sun, warming myself. That usually lasted about five minutes. It was always way too cold and required a coat. Who wants to skip in a coat. It was never the coming of spring I imagined. I specifically remember learning about the four seasons and spring was always represented by flowers and bunnies and kids playing in the sun. Apparently the artist who drew that seasonal representation had never ever been to Canada. It was like a cruel joke.

Good Friday was gorgeous outside. The daffodils were blooming, I counted six cars being washed and all the pubs were closed. Closed. Pubs in Ireland closed. This is a truly unique thing as the pubs are open every other day of the year. They close at midnight the night before and don't open until the following day. People go crazy over here at the possibility of no alcohol being available. They head in droves to their local Off License (liquor store) and buy alcohol cause God knows no one over here could possibly go without alcohol for an entire day! Insert sarcasm here.

I managed to head over to a friend's house to eat chocolate eggs and watch DVDs. I spent Saturday afternoon wandering around downtown Dublin. I'd been to the Temple Bar district of Dublin but had never really explored it. Turns out every Saturday from 11-6 there's a book fair. The selection was actually quite good although I didn't buy anything. I had a craving for hot dogs so I spent most of the afternoon searching for a hot dog cart. I found one but wasn't in the mood for shelling out €4 for an undercooked dog. I stopped into my favourite local take-away and tried to order the falafel plate, only to be told they ran out. How do you run out of falafel? Are there seriously that many Middle Eastern people in pasty white-bred Ireland that the take-away could actually run out of falafel? Apparently. My suspicion is that they didn't actually have any in the first place! So I just sauntered across the street to the other joint and enjoyed a plate there. Yum. I did manage to track down that hot dog later that night at midnight after spending an incredibly boring evening with a group of 30-something females all whinging about not having boyfriends and discussing what's wrong with Irish men. Which, if you're curious, is apparently everything according to them!

Sunday morning I went downtown, got a spot on Westmoreland Street and waited for the 1916 Easter Uprising Parade to begin. It was the 90th anniversary of the uprising and apparently the first time in over 30 years that it's been celebrated with a parade. There were over 2,500 people involved and I've gotta say, it was a well done affair. Everyone looked really sharp in their uniforms, the miltary managed a few well-timed flyovers and everyone seemed really impressed. Except the people standing around me. Why do I always attract the weirdos? I didn't turn my cell phone off for two reasons, 1) I was outside in a public place and 2) no one ever calls me. Of course my phone rang just as the parade paused and everything was quiet for a few minutes, and the mother and daughter combo behind me (less than a few inches from my head), remarked loudly enough for everyone to hear, "She didn't toorn off her mobile...it's just like at the cinema...". First of all, I'm not deaf you cow, second of all, it's a freakin' public place, and third of all I don't go to the cinema you European weirdo, I go to the movies! If I wasn't on my own I would have made some cutting, sacastic remark, devestating them with my foreign wit and charm, but of course I was alone and just swallowed it. Jerks. I made up for it by moving in front of their 10 year old son so he couldn't see. I know it's not his fault his Mom and sister are jerks but he's gotta learn about life sometime.

I took myself to the movies that night and saw Walk The Line at the Dundrum Shopping Centre. If you havne't seen it, it's really good. It was a nice outting, except for when I missed the train, and got followed by four drunk guys from the train station. I grabbed the first cab that came along and had to scream at the driver to go as one of the drunks tried to get into the cab with me. I was kinda upset. Mostly cause I had to pay for another cab ride. They're uber expensive over here. Now I'm back at work and am currently listening to a guy with really bad grammar yell at a woman I work with in the reception area. She's definitely holding her own. Good girl!

Dr Doolittle to the Rescue!

My current temp job is as a receptionist. It's not bad, nice people, free hot beverages, and I get to ride the train every morning which I love doing. That's one of the few things I miss from Japan. It was such a nice way to get to work, not having to check a bus schedule. The trains/subways ran so efficiently. The people on the trains were incredibly rude at times, but man did those trains chug along!

I get off the train at Heuston Station every morning before 8am and walk to the office. Heuston Station is just on the south side of the Liffey River and my office is just on the north side. The station itself is quite beautiful, very old looking. I love the idea of travelling across Ireland by train. My Mom did it across Canada by VIA Rail and I thought she was insane but travelling by train across Ireland sitting on a train, watching the green fields and sheep go by seems so romantic.

There's usually a fair bit of traffic around Heuston Station as it facilitates a lot of trains travelling in and out of the city. When my Luas train crossed the Heuston Bridge this morning, I noticed that there was quite a bit of commotion at the edge of the wall of the Liffey River. There were a couple of fire trucks with lights flashing, gardai cars and bystanders leaning over the wall looking at something in the water. The Liffey River can be quite pretty in places but at this point in Dublin, it's quite disgusting. It smells minging and when the tide goes out, you can see nothing but mud, old tires, garbage, etc. The tide was in and I coudn't see what people were looking at until until a coworker pointed out that two dogs were stranded in the river, against the wall, standing on something to keep out of the water. It was a pretty cold, wet, all-round miserable morning so I didn't stay long but the dogs weren't tiny little poodles, they were large, kinda mastif-looking dogs. I then realised that the river must be seriously polluted and disgusting if two dogs can't swim their way down the river to land. I felt pretty bad for them but heard a little while later that it looked like they'd been rescued. Poor puppies. Strange timing though as I'd heard yesterday a story about a couple that were sitting on the wall, kissing and then fell into the river. Gross.

Unique Ambiance?

For anyone who doesn't know, because of a smoking ban, you can't smoke in pubs in Ireland. It's fantastic! Being a girl, that means I can put on perfume, smelling ever so nicely and remain so even after I've had a few pints. They just recently implemented this rule in Scotland, however I think England will be a longterm hold-out. They tend to do their own thing over here, re: € vs £. Anyhow, despite the health benefits of a smoking ban, it introduced a unique dilemma, other smells produced by drinking beer...get the picture yet?

An Irish friend of mine first told me about the 'Guinness farts' over the Paddy's Day weekend. She was complaining about how no one realised the benefits of smoke, masking the smells emmitted by old men drinking beer for hours. Apparently she never goes to one of her favourite pubs anymore because the carpet is so incredibly old and has never been changed, therefore it's soaked up all the nasty smells that have been expelled over the years. Now, I'm a very squeamish person when it comes to farting. It's not polite, I like to pretend it doesn't happen, and if anyone was to ask me, I would swear I have never done it. So when my friend told me about this phenomenon, I laughed it off, hoping to God I'd never have to experience it.

Saturday night I went out with a friend to The Stag's Head and The Long Haul. I'd never been to either pub and both were great, really relaxed/Irish atmosphere, with a lot of young people and Kilkenny on tap. However, it didn't take long for the beer farts to start. Not me though, I repeat, IT WASN'T ME! At first I could kind of laugh it off, but after three, it was making me nervous. I would normally ignore having smelled something like that, pretending it didn't happen, anxiously waiting for it to pas, but the person I was with kept bringing it up, making me more and more uncomfortable. I thought when we decided to go to The Long Haul that the entire smelly episode was behind us (no pun), but nope, the smells quickly started again, making my stomach twist and turn in embarrassment.

My question is this: Why? Why do people do that? Come on! If you're old enough to drink in a pub, you should have the common sense to take care of your business or go outside. Gross! For those of you coming to visit me over the next few months, consider yourself warned, and when it happens (cause it will), don't look at me!

Still Feelin' It

I think I'm getting old. Either that or I managed to do some serious damage to my stomach on Friday night. It's still feeling a little spicy. The work party at the Guinness Brewery was fabulous! The Gravity Bar is at the top of one of their buildings and has an amazing view of Dublin. There isn't that much to look at during the day but the night view was spectacular. The event was catered so that meant really great food. Since I've recently developed some kind of bizzarre aversion to chicken, I stuck with the beef, which was oh so good! The free wine was flowing and it definitely made talking to strangers a lot more confortable. I was smart enough to immediately switch to beer as I had a feeling the night was going to be a long one and I wanted to be in good enough form to keep up with the crowd.

I didn't manage to get much dancing in although a co-worker did pick me up a couple of times and swing me around. The old stomach did a few flip flops at that point but I just steadied it with more beer. I really enjoyed chatting with co-workers about travel, Ireland, what's wrong with Irish men, etc. A bunch of us ended up heading out to a late bar called Leggs after the brewery. It was a wine bar, apparently a fairly cheesy one but I wasn't paying attention to much at that point.

I was wrecked for most of Saturday and Sunday but it was worth it. I wish I had something amusing to say about my weekend but most of my efforts were put into not vomiting, which I consider an achievement. I did manage to watch the Eastenders omnibus, which was amazing and an nice capper to a fun weekend.

In sad news, Radiohead and Beck are coming to Dublin in August but I didn't manage to get tickets due to my neverending poverty. Sigh. Maybe next lifetime.