Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Probably the worst blogger ever? Yeah.

It's been weird being home again. And it's been really normal, which is also weird. It's like Ireland never happened, except it completely did, and it's wicked strange.

It's been nice being back, though. It's been awesome seeing everyone (well, everyone on Cape.. it's been half a year since I've seen anyone from Burlington, besides the kids in Dublin. Oh, the sadness!) again, and I've been having lots of fun going out to Providence and just chilling.

I have my job back, which is less than fun, but I need the money wicked badly. I graduate next year (damn, I'm old!) so I really really have to start saving, especially since I want to go to Ireland again when I graduate. Oh, and another good thing about working? It gave me this quote: "He was never the same after he tried to throw Wayne in the meat grinder." No, I have no more information than that. It was just a mother talking to her teenage son, but I was too busy with another customer so catch anything else from their conversation. It made my life, though, pretty much, and as soon as I could I scribbled it down on a bit of leftover receipt so I wouldn't forget. I pretty much spent the rest of my shift imagining different scenarios.

Also, how perfect is the fact that his name's Wayne?

Anyway, I blame the fact that this post is just a mini recap of my life on Teen Mom. I've kind of been watching it today. And Ghost Adventures. I'm classy. So is Wayne, I imagine.

(I don't usually watch this much TV, I promise.. But when I do, it's pretty much that level of classy.)

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Clothes Ramblings

Even though I've lived on Cape most of my life, it's only since I got back from Ireland that I've been noticing really specific things about it. Like, the way Cape Codders dress. It seems like everyone has this uniform which almost no one breaks. They have it in Dublin, too, but their uniform is completely, completely different. Basically, on Cape, until it gets warm (which it doesn't really until June) pretty much everyone under forty or so (the old people all dress like normal old people, but, especially the ones who come to the Christmas Tree Shop, really colorfully) dresses in the same outfit: jeans and a hoodie. And the hoodie is always either navy blue, grey, dark green, army green, brown, or, if you're a girl, pink. Then for shoes, it's fake uggs or converse. Maybe flats. Normal sneakers if you're a boy. Once it gets nicer out, people start to break it up a bit, but for most Cape Codders, that's it.

It's totally different in Dublin. There the girls all dress the same, too (and they dress especially the same if they're walking in groups), but in a completely different way. They never wear jeans, ever. They wear either a skirt with leggings, tights, or no pants at all, or they wear a track suit. And the girl wearing the leggings or tights would never wear a track suit; they're completely different people. (The boy version of that is jeans vs. a tracksuit). When it's cold, everyone wears a pea coat, either black or grey. (On Cape, when it's cold, sometimes people wear coats but mostly they keep wearing their hoodies). Oh, and every girl wears heels. Sometimes they wear boots, but even they often have heels. Unless the girl's wearing a tracksuit; then she wears uggs.

That's mostly just Dublin, though. The other parts of Ireland, girls will wear jeans. Cork especially, I think. They mostly dressed casually there, but it was a mix, which was nice. Of course, I was only there for a week.

Anyway, though, I'm not sure which place is more different from the Dublin dress code- if the wicked hoodie-casual Cape Cod way of dressing or B-Town style. Because in Burlington, people wear lots of different sorts of outfits. For most of the year, because of the snow but also because they're cute, girls wear boots. When it rains, they wear bright, bright rainboots (which I've never seen a Dubliner wear) with cute patterns with whales or owls. As for everything else, people will wear whatever- a flannel shirt, a hoodie, a sundress, a T-shirt with a witty saying, a patterned sweater, a big shirt with leggings. The only thing is that whatever it is is almost always colorful. Even in winter, because then half of everyone wears a bright snowboarding coat, and the other half wears a pea coat, and even a lot of the pea coats are bright, too. The only time it's different is the first warm day of the year, when the girls all go out in lacy white sun dresses. Oh, and if the shoes aren't boots, they're pretty much always flats. Ireland's the only place I've been to where heels are the shoes of choice.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

airports suck

It was worth it last night when I didn't go to bed, but now I'm suffering. I have three hours before my plane boards, and then seven hours in the air, and then two hours driving from Boston to the Cape. I think I might die. Especially since the only food I have on me is the chocolate I bought my family (and I already ate way too much of that for breakfast because, um, I've been completely broke for a while) and I just feel like crying, but I think that might be a bad thing, considering where I am. But, really, I just want to start bawling because I don't feel well and I don't wanna go yet and airports suck.

I'm sure everything will be good once I'm actually home, but I hate change sometimes (like now). And I'm really tired. Not that I've been anything but a ball of emotions this week. Really, it's been crazy.

Ahhhhhhhh I wanna cry!

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Dublin

time flies away here.
it darts from your hands
pulled by high-heeled cobblestone roads
murderous taxis
trampled newspaper mush cigarette butts
years of bikes rusting algae in the Liffey
and mute nights where it only rained.

it takes away spinning
midnight pub worlds with their stomping and dancing and hidden corners
in seconds, takes
picnics of wine and tree climbing castle climbing life swirling,
accents that turn talking
into a song,
and the wind that makes you fly into busy anything streets
into leafy iron gated parks sprawling
with all of Ireland on its lunch break except you have all day.

then turns it all into a dream.

Friday, May 6, 2011

it's so weird right now

I don't think I've ever been so conflicted in my life.

I REALLY want to stay in Dublin.

I REALLY want to go home.

I want to do so many things in Ireland, still, but at the same time, I just wanna go home. I want to see all of my friends I've left behind, and I want to see my family. I want to go to the beach and swim and hang out and eat cheese that isn't Irish because it tastes weird and salads and not to have to worry about money. And to write more run-on sentences because clearly I like them.

But I DON'T WANT TO GO. Because I don't know when I come back. Ideally, after I graduate, I'll do this thing where if you were in school a year ago or less, you get to get a work visa for a year. I would totally do that (except I would live in Galway because it's totes the shit and I'm still in love with that city), but I have no idea if I'll be able, because I'll be about a hundred million dollars in debt when I graduate, and that's a lot of money. What if I can't ever come back?

I don't want to think about that.

But I do want to go home, too, and to see home, again. I've missed the Cape, and everyone in it. And in Burlington. It's really hard to have so many homes. I can't even express it. I've just been a bundle of emotions for days.

Anyway, random things I'm gonna miss:

The people selling strawberries and grapes out of baby carriages on Henry Street in their best Irish-Cockney accents.

All the performers on Grafton Street.

The flowers!!

Dancing in pubs...

Being able to get into pubs. I still have three whole months before I'm 21!! (NOT FAIR)

Cobblestone streets (except when I'm in heels. I won't miss them then).

The words, "cheers," "gaff," "grand," and "love," and probably a bunch of others. But I'm totally bringing them back.

Not always being carded.

The walk behind christchurch to get to pubs.

Stealing pint glasses. Oh, how I'll miss that.

Multicolored doors.

The walk to campus.

Random hen parties in the lobby.

The accents.

The PEOPLE.

But, one thing I won't miss is being the shortest person wherever I go. And I am excited to go home. Sort of. I'm probably gonna cry on the plane.