Hey All,
I'm home in Peekskill now after my weekend in DC. Seeing my friends this weekend was probably the best decision I could have made about coming home. It reminded me in no uncertain terms that I love Washington too, and next semester will be full of new adventures even though my Ireland adventure is over.
I am much more at peace now than I was when I last posted. I was very sad to be leaving Dublin, but when the moment came to to actually walk out the door I was happier than I've felt in a while- at least since Sarah left Dublin. I realised it at the airport- even though I had issues checking my bags (my giant suitcase was ten kilos overweight and I had to throw out a lot and repack a little, and I had to wait on line for over an hour behind a family who were moving to DC and checking 18 suitcases) I was still content and even excited. It occurred to me that if I were not happy to be going home I would be miserable.
The plane ride home was grand- somehow I lucked out again with an empty seat next to me, so I was quite comfortable. There was an undue number of unhappy babies, but even they didn't really bother me- further evidence that I must have been happy about going home. I read Portnoy's Complaint, a hilarious stream-of-consciousness book about a guy who hates his family and thinks that his upbringing ruined him for life.
Getting my suitcases back from the baggage claim was an hour-long adventure, mostly because I could barely life the two big ones. Immigration and customs were surprisingly easy, and I must admit that it was kind of funny to watch the family with the 18 suitcases try to get their things together.
I took a cab from Dulles to AU to see Abby. She was at TTM (the Catholic Women's Group that we're both a part of) so I headed straight for Kay. When I walked in the door all the girls screamed and hugged me. It was the best welcome I could have asked for, and it made me feel like it really is okay to be home. Abby and I had a chance to catch up, then I headed over to Matt's. He, Adam, Paul, and Mark live in the apartment that I will be moving into next semester after Mark graduates and returns to California.
I spent Saturday night regaling Abby with tales of Ireland, and she told me what I'd missed at AU. I was meant to hook up with Kelly at some point. She was in Virginia visiting one of her friends. But alas, we ended up missing each other.
Sunday was a quieter day. Adam, Maggie, Mark, and I went to a bar to watch the Cowboys game. I went to night mass on campus and saw some other friends, though most everyone has gone home by that point.
I almost missed my bus on Monday, but I made it with about 30 seconds to spare thanks to a very nice cab driver. Henry met me in Penn Station, and Mom picked up both of us there.
Next semester I am taking a full load of anthro classes- Intro to Archaeology, Language and Culture, Early America: The Buried Past, a course on the Masala, and one on Middle-East culture. I'm also taking a ballet class, which should be a blast.
I will take a lot of things from my experience in Ireland. Mostly a newfound sense of adulthood and self-sufficiency. Also, many new and wonderful friends that I hope will remain a part of my life for years to come. Most importantly, a new place where I feel at home and know that I can return to any time. I've even got a great souvenir that I will carry with me everywhere for the rest of my life.
Though I've tried my best, I feel as though there's a lot about this experience that I haven't been able to share adequately here. I'm really looking forward to catching up with each of you in person and hearing your news from the past few months. Thank you for sharing this experience with me- you will never know how much your reading this and leaving comments has meant. The comments in particular- they made my days over there. It's a great feeling to know that I have people at home who care and are cheering for me. I hope you've enjoyed reading these posts at least almost as much as I've enjoyed sharing them with you. :-)
18 December 2007
14 December 2007
The End.
This is it.
I fly to Washington in a matter of hours, and I can't say as I'm happy about it. This city and I get on well together. I am sad that I will no longer be intimately acquainted with it.
It is difficult to put into words the way I feel right now; unable to sleep knowing that my departure is imminent, and wishing it were not so. It is an odd sort of limbo. I know that today will be one of the longest and busiest days of my life, but at this moment there is literally nothing to do. I am packed. My apartment is clean, at least the bits I am responsible for. Everything is in order.
I've loved this city and the people in it, and I've loved living here. I need to go home for a few reasons, but I would move back here in a heartbeat after a week or two at home. I've had more fun here in the past few months than I can ever remember having before in my life. Part of it is the great experiences that I've encountered, but mostly it is that I am completely responsible for myself. If I make a bad decision, the consequences fall squarely on my shoulders and there is no one else to help support the weight. It is a frightening though, but also incredibly invigorating. For the first time in my life, I am an adult.
I am scared that this mindset will dissipate after I am home for a few weeks. I've been very strong and very smart here, because I have had to be. Will I continue to be that way when the stakes are not so high?
Another component to this feeling is the knowledge that Sarah will be here without me next term. We shared everything these past few months, and had a great time doing it. She will make new friends that will take my place in that scenario. But what about me? I don't have any friends like her at home, and there is no reason that I should all of a sudden find one upon returning to a place I have already lived.
This is compounded by the fact that she may no be returning to the states for any kind of permanency at any time in the foreseeable future. She is applying to art school in Dublin, and if she gets in she will remain here for the next few years at least.
It's not as though there are not good things about going home. There are people that I do miss, and exciting things on the agenda for next semester. But I have the treasured and simultaneously saddening knowledge that this has been the definition of a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The particular breed of happiness and invigoration that I have known for the past few months I will not know again.
Why is it, exactly, that all good things must end? Why is it not possible to take the best and most exciting parts of my life and incorporate them into this experience so that I might stay in this ridiculous bubble forever?
I fly to Washington in a matter of hours, and I can't say as I'm happy about it. This city and I get on well together. I am sad that I will no longer be intimately acquainted with it.
It is difficult to put into words the way I feel right now; unable to sleep knowing that my departure is imminent, and wishing it were not so. It is an odd sort of limbo. I know that today will be one of the longest and busiest days of my life, but at this moment there is literally nothing to do. I am packed. My apartment is clean, at least the bits I am responsible for. Everything is in order.
I've loved this city and the people in it, and I've loved living here. I need to go home for a few reasons, but I would move back here in a heartbeat after a week or two at home. I've had more fun here in the past few months than I can ever remember having before in my life. Part of it is the great experiences that I've encountered, but mostly it is that I am completely responsible for myself. If I make a bad decision, the consequences fall squarely on my shoulders and there is no one else to help support the weight. It is a frightening though, but also incredibly invigorating. For the first time in my life, I am an adult.
I am scared that this mindset will dissipate after I am home for a few weeks. I've been very strong and very smart here, because I have had to be. Will I continue to be that way when the stakes are not so high?
Another component to this feeling is the knowledge that Sarah will be here without me next term. We shared everything these past few months, and had a great time doing it. She will make new friends that will take my place in that scenario. But what about me? I don't have any friends like her at home, and there is no reason that I should all of a sudden find one upon returning to a place I have already lived.
This is compounded by the fact that she may no be returning to the states for any kind of permanency at any time in the foreseeable future. She is applying to art school in Dublin, and if she gets in she will remain here for the next few years at least.
It's not as though there are not good things about going home. There are people that I do miss, and exciting things on the agenda for next semester. But I have the treasured and simultaneously saddening knowledge that this has been the definition of a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The particular breed of happiness and invigoration that I have known for the past few months I will not know again.
Why is it, exactly, that all good things must end? Why is it not possible to take the best and most exciting parts of my life and incorporate them into this experience so that I might stay in this ridiculous bubble forever?
09 December 2007
Best Photo Ever Taken
So, totally not Ireland or me related at all, but I felt the need to share:
Camels on 53rd Street. Amazing.
Camels on 53rd Street. Amazing.
01 December 2007
Bollocks Stephy- We're Fecked!
Stephy returned to London on her way back to D.C., and I went along for the ride.
Saturday night I took Stephy out dancing in Temple Bar. At 2:30 I asked if she wanted to go home so we could get some sleep before our 8 o'clock flight. We made the astoundingly fabulous life choice to stay out and not sleep. This would have worked if the flight from Dublin to London were longer than 45 minutes- we could have slept then. So not the case.
We were waiting for the bus to the airport at about 6:30 and it was freezing. We were late getting to the bus stop in the first place, then the bus was late getting to the bus stop. It's about an hour ride from the bus stop nearest my apartment to the airport, so by 6:30 we were getting a little anxious about missing our plane. Stephy'd been quizzing me on Irish-ism so she'd have some cool new words to take home with her, and in our over-tired-we-haven't-slept-since-Friday-and-now-it's-Sunday stupor we started yelling "Bollocks! We're fecked!" at each other at the bus stop. Then we decided to act like grown ups and just take a cab.
We made it to the plane in time and slept the whole way there. I think I was asleep before the plane even took off, and I didn't wake up until people were already getting off. We ran to get the bus that goes from Stansted airport to central London. We slept the whole hour and twenty minute bus ride as well. We took the "tube" from Baker Street on the Jubilee line to Green Park, then the Picadilly line to South Kensington. Two of our friends are studying abroad there and they have an apartment in South Kensington. When we got to their apartment I took a nap. Later Stephy and I made dinner and then went out on the town. We were still exhausted, so we didn't see much. We did take a ride on the London Eye though. It was dark when we got up there and the city looked so beautiful all lit up.
I was a little overwhelmed by London at first. My exhaustion, combined with the fact that I'm so used to Dublin at this point made London seem huge. I can walk from one end of the important part of Dublin to the other in less than 40 minutes. London is about 50 million times bigger than that. But, Monday was much better. Stephy left early to catch her plane back to DC, and I headed out on my own to see as much of London as I could before my plane left at 9:45pm.
I walked from Tony and Tor's apartment up Exhibition Street. I passes the Natural History Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum. I walked through Hyde Park, past Kensington Palace and the Diana Memorial Playground. I followed Bayswater Road along the north side of the park. I walked down Park Lane to Wellington Arch, then followed Constitution Hill along the Palace Gardens and came out in front of Buckingham Palace.
The palace is not nearly as spectacular as you'd expect. I thought the cool looking guards were outside the palace, but apparently they are at the Tower of London. The Victoria Memorial across the street from the Palace is actually a lot more interesting than the palace itself. I followed Birdcage Walk to Westminster Abbey. The architecture of the Abbey is gorgeous, but the inside is very crowded, not with tourist, but with dead royals and rich people. There are tombs and sarcophagi all over the place. Stephy had tried to go there a few days earlier, but she couldn't get in because the Queen was in there celebrating her 60th wedding anniversary. She did manage to see her and snap a photo though.
After the Abbey, I walked down to the Parliament building and saw Big Ben. By that point is was pretty much time for me to get back to Tony and Tor's apartment to pick up my things and head to the airport.
Follow the red arrows on the map so see where I walked:
Check out the Photos:
36 Hours in London- Part I
36 Hours in London- Part II
36 Hours in London- Part III
Saturday night I took Stephy out dancing in Temple Bar. At 2:30 I asked if she wanted to go home so we could get some sleep before our 8 o'clock flight. We made the astoundingly fabulous life choice to stay out and not sleep. This would have worked if the flight from Dublin to London were longer than 45 minutes- we could have slept then. So not the case.
We were waiting for the bus to the airport at about 6:30 and it was freezing. We were late getting to the bus stop in the first place, then the bus was late getting to the bus stop. It's about an hour ride from the bus stop nearest my apartment to the airport, so by 6:30 we were getting a little anxious about missing our plane. Stephy'd been quizzing me on Irish-ism so she'd have some cool new words to take home with her, and in our over-tired-we-haven't-slept-since-Friday-and-now-it's-Sunday stupor we started yelling "Bollocks! We're fecked!" at each other at the bus stop. Then we decided to act like grown ups and just take a cab.
We made it to the plane in time and slept the whole way there. I think I was asleep before the plane even took off, and I didn't wake up until people were already getting off. We ran to get the bus that goes from Stansted airport to central London. We slept the whole hour and twenty minute bus ride as well. We took the "tube" from Baker Street on the Jubilee line to Green Park, then the Picadilly line to South Kensington. Two of our friends are studying abroad there and they have an apartment in South Kensington. When we got to their apartment I took a nap. Later Stephy and I made dinner and then went out on the town. We were still exhausted, so we didn't see much. We did take a ride on the London Eye though. It was dark when we got up there and the city looked so beautiful all lit up.
I was a little overwhelmed by London at first. My exhaustion, combined with the fact that I'm so used to Dublin at this point made London seem huge. I can walk from one end of the important part of Dublin to the other in less than 40 minutes. London is about 50 million times bigger than that. But, Monday was much better. Stephy left early to catch her plane back to DC, and I headed out on my own to see as much of London as I could before my plane left at 9:45pm.
I walked from Tony and Tor's apartment up Exhibition Street. I passes the Natural History Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum. I walked through Hyde Park, past Kensington Palace and the Diana Memorial Playground. I followed Bayswater Road along the north side of the park. I walked down Park Lane to Wellington Arch, then followed Constitution Hill along the Palace Gardens and came out in front of Buckingham Palace.
The palace is not nearly as spectacular as you'd expect. I thought the cool looking guards were outside the palace, but apparently they are at the Tower of London. The Victoria Memorial across the street from the Palace is actually a lot more interesting than the palace itself. I followed Birdcage Walk to Westminster Abbey. The architecture of the Abbey is gorgeous, but the inside is very crowded, not with tourist, but with dead royals and rich people. There are tombs and sarcophagi all over the place. Stephy had tried to go there a few days earlier, but she couldn't get in because the Queen was in there celebrating her 60th wedding anniversary. She did manage to see her and snap a photo though.
After the Abbey, I walked down to the Parliament building and saw Big Ben. By that point is was pretty much time for me to get back to Tony and Tor's apartment to pick up my things and head to the airport.
Follow the red arrows on the map so see where I walked:
Check out the Photos:
36 Hours in London- Part I
36 Hours in London- Part II
36 Hours in London- Part III
Thanksgiving the Ex-Pat Way
Stephy (my roommate from AU) invaded Dublin for Thanksgiving last week.
Sarah, Stephy, and I made an amazing Thanksgiving dinner, considering it was the first time any of us had done anything besides say "Hey mom- that's smells great!" I had to special order a turkey from the butcher down the street. Apparently Irish people never eat turkey, except on Christmas. Stephy and I went to pick it up Thursday morning and had a lovely chat with the butcher and his wife. It all started when Stephy decided she needed a photo of the turkey, (who we decided to name Bob, because Stephy thought he needed a traditional American name) so the butcher pulled it out of it's bag and posed with it for her to photograph. His wife tod me the story of the Christmas their daughter spent in Australia when she cooked for all her friends. They wished us a happy Thanksgiving and we carried a giant turkey back down Pearse Street to my apartment amid many confused looks.
That was possibly the oddest thing about having Thanksgiving here. Everyone but us went about their regular routine. As we were walking back to my apartment we passed lots of people in suits headed for work and it struck me that everything in the states really does shut down for Thanksgiving, and it was odd the be the only people celebrating it while everyone else went on about their days.
We prepped the turkey and got it in the oven, then made a Tesco run to get the rest of what we needed to cook dinner. Stephy and I made the turkey and the stuffing. Sarah made apple pies, mashed potatoes and garlic corn. We invited Lauren, Maureen, and Steven for dinner as well. We charged them each a bottle of red wine for admission :-P
The six of us had an amazing time cooking and eating, and we all got a chance to talk to our parents- even Stephy. I think I spoke to my mom more than anyone else- including a frantic call to find out how to know what four quarts of cubed bread is supposed to look like when you don't have a measuring cup.
I missed being home for sure though. Stephy and I spent about an hour online trying to find a live webcast of the Macy's Parade, but to no avail. It was the first time I've ever not watched it. This was the first Thanksgiving we've had since my sister moved out. It was also the first time I can remember my mom not having Thanksgiving at our house. That was a bit saddening as well. These firsts make it all the more obvious that I really am growing up and my nuclear family is not nearly as nuclear as it once was.
However, it was definitely an experience to have Thanksgiving here. We did well for a group of cooking newbies I think!
Check out the photos below:
Thanksgiving the Ex-Pat Way
Sarah, Stephy, and I made an amazing Thanksgiving dinner, considering it was the first time any of us had done anything besides say "Hey mom- that's smells great!" I had to special order a turkey from the butcher down the street. Apparently Irish people never eat turkey, except on Christmas. Stephy and I went to pick it up Thursday morning and had a lovely chat with the butcher and his wife. It all started when Stephy decided she needed a photo of the turkey, (who we decided to name Bob, because Stephy thought he needed a traditional American name) so the butcher pulled it out of it's bag and posed with it for her to photograph. His wife tod me the story of the Christmas their daughter spent in Australia when she cooked for all her friends. They wished us a happy Thanksgiving and we carried a giant turkey back down Pearse Street to my apartment amid many confused looks.
That was possibly the oddest thing about having Thanksgiving here. Everyone but us went about their regular routine. As we were walking back to my apartment we passed lots of people in suits headed for work and it struck me that everything in the states really does shut down for Thanksgiving, and it was odd the be the only people celebrating it while everyone else went on about their days.
We prepped the turkey and got it in the oven, then made a Tesco run to get the rest of what we needed to cook dinner. Stephy and I made the turkey and the stuffing. Sarah made apple pies, mashed potatoes and garlic corn. We invited Lauren, Maureen, and Steven for dinner as well. We charged them each a bottle of red wine for admission :-P
The six of us had an amazing time cooking and eating, and we all got a chance to talk to our parents- even Stephy. I think I spoke to my mom more than anyone else- including a frantic call to find out how to know what four quarts of cubed bread is supposed to look like when you don't have a measuring cup.
I missed being home for sure though. Stephy and I spent about an hour online trying to find a live webcast of the Macy's Parade, but to no avail. It was the first time I've ever not watched it. This was the first Thanksgiving we've had since my sister moved out. It was also the first time I can remember my mom not having Thanksgiving at our house. That was a bit saddening as well. These firsts make it all the more obvious that I really am growing up and my nuclear family is not nearly as nuclear as it once was.
However, it was definitely an experience to have Thanksgiving here. We did well for a group of cooking newbies I think!
Check out the photos below:
Thanksgiving the Ex-Pat Way
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