Today I realized that my extremely long break from blogging needs to end. I'm ready to start again. I'll probably be as bad as I was last time at keeping up with it, but I actually have time to sleep this year so I feel like I can spare a couple of minutes every now and then to update this old thing.

Post about wolverines coming soon.

Animals

Every couple of months, I become obsessed with a different animal. I will continuously draw this animal, talk about this animal, and watch documentaries on this animal until a new animal strikes my fancy. This started a few years ago with monkeys. For many months, I spent all my time googling pictures of monkeys. I wanted to own a spider monkey so bad I thought I would literally die.

Look at his little face and crazy yellow legs. This thing is adorable.

After a while, I got tired of monkeys. I moved on. If I remember correctly, my next obsession was octopi. I loved octopi more than I had ever loved monkeys. I watched a documentary about them on NatGeo, and, though it was a bit scary, it reinforced how magnificent they are.

After all, octopi are more awesome than your mom.

While my octopi love was still going strong, I bought this ring in gold:

Even though I've moved on, I still love this ring. I would save it in a fire.  Also, I know that this is not steampunk. 

But then, I discovered a little known animal called "Bear."I loved bears more than anything. I drew bears everywhere, I made bear noises, I watched bear videos, and I bought a polar bear sweater:

I even started a blog about bears.

Recently, I've moved away from bears...but I'll keep the blog and the sweater. Now, I'm crushing on narwhals. So majestic. Just look at that face:

For a short time between bears and narwhals, I was in love with wolverines. 

There's really no telling what the next animal will be...

Direction

I am debating whether I should continue transposing my Ireland experiences from my journal to this blog. First of all, it's rather painstaking and horrid. Second, it's not very interesting. I never wanted this blog to be a diary. I wanted it to be full of things like this:

I've gotten a little dark...

But instead, it seems to have turned into a dumb diary. In an effort to remedy this situation, I'm going to take a hiatus from the Ireland posts. If this is distressing to anyone, please comment.

January 16, 2011 - Day 3

Everyone (except for Erin, Kelly, Dr. Sprayberry, and me) is hungover. They all came stumbling in to breakfast late and feeling sick. One individual refused to remove her sunglasses off. While we ate breakfast, a lady that worked in the dining room told us that one person from our group didn't go to bed until 7:30 a.m. At that moment, it was 8...almost time to get on the bus to drive to Sligo. This girl, let's call her Lindsey, stayed out all night drinking with, talking to, and getting into cars with strangers. She was by herself. Her explanation: "They were buying me drinks...what was I supposed to do? What would you have done?!" Two girls packed her stuff and helped her onto the bus by 8:30 and we were off to Sligo. Most people had taken dramamines to help with the motion sickness of riding the bus while hungover. Lindsey was, presumably, still drunk. The girl behind me threw up basically right beside my ear. Luckily, I am not visibly affected by vomit and was able to keep my tea and toast safely within the confines of my stomach.

The drive to Sligo was lovely, although some parts weren't the lovely pastoral paradise scenes that Ireland calls to mind. However, the area closest to Sligo was magnificent: beautiful green hills and valleys; stones fences; lush, dark forests; and a plethora of wooly farm animals. I especially liked the white sheep with black faces and legs.

The coach dropped us off at the Sligo City Hotel where we got our bags situated in our rooms and then ate lunch in the hotel pub. We got back on the bus shortly after that. The water at the hotel tasted like beef.

We drove to the base of Knocknarea, the "hill" upon which sits Queen Maeve's Cairn.

Then we climbed it. There are only three words to describe the climb up Knocknarea: horrible, agony, beautiful. It was hellish. The cold, the wind, the steep ascent, the grueling pace set by Martin (Joyce's husband), the wet and soggy, mud-covered path--all of those things added up to horrifying pain and thoughts of suicide. I kept falling behind the group because they were walking so fast. I have a very short stride which accounts for some of it...although Martin was overweight and over sixty...

I was the last one up. The legend goes that Queen Maeve is buried on Knocknarea standing up with a spear in her hand and a burial cairn was placed on her grave. The cairn is huge but has never been excavated. The whole things looks a little bit like this:

This is exactly what it looks like. 

You are supposed to carry a stone from the bottom of the "hill" and place it on top of the cairn. This requires you to climb on the actual cairn to get on top to place the rock. It seemed very irreverent. Maeve have mercy on my soul...

It was freezing on top and the wind was insane. It took 1/3 of the time to go down as it did to go up. It was very muddy and slippy and I ended up falling and sliding on my bottom. By the time I got back to the bus, my shoes were soaked through, freezing, and muddy, my legs were jelly, and my pants were slick with mud. It was a nightmare. But then we had to sight see so I couldn't even change my sodden, freezing socks. But the view of Sligo was definitely worth the climb. 

We drove to the Carrowmore "Cemetery" after that. It was a series of standing stone dolmens and cairs throughout the area of Carrowmore. The dolmens were spectacular. 

Dolmen.

We also saw Culleenamore Midden which has... a lot of oysters (I don't know about this...by this time I wanted to die).

The white flecks are oyster shells.

After sight seeing came free time. I changed my pants and shoes, and put them in the tub. I'm thinking about throwing the socks away. I had to go with Erin to buy a new pair of pants because she ripped hers today. We had to climb over a gate and through a barbed wire fence to keep yo with Martin (who has no regard for property laws) and she ripped her jeans on both occasions. We then ate dinner in the hotel and went to a traditional music session in Donaghy's Pub. We only stayed about thirty minutes because we were exhausted.

When we got back to the hotel and into bed, we were delirious. We talked and laughed like fools until after one. It was a lot of fun but horribly tiring. Tomorrow morning is going to be sad.

January 15, 2011 - Day 2

I woke up in the middle of the night (I don't know what time it was because there was no clock!!!) to pee because I was pretty sure that I would die if I didn't and when I got back in bed it took me a couple hours to sleep despite my exhaustion.

Breakfast at the hotel was great! Eight a.m. came pretty early after I finally fell asleep. We ate a continental breakfast, which is usually adequate and mediocre, but at the Buswells Hotel it was delicious. Especially the blueberry muffin, tea, and marmalade and toast.

We set off as a group for the national library to see the Yeats Exhibit. It was pretty neat to see his manuscripts and especially his occult stuff but I have to admit that I was slightly bored, despite my literary interests. I guess Yeats isn't my favorite...

On the way from the Yeats Exhibit to Dublinia, we walked through St. Stephen's Green. There were birds everywhere, and even if though it was winter the grass and plants were very green and beautiful. 

 

After the Yeats Exhibit, we zipped on over to Dublinia, a museum detailing Viking and medieval Ireland. It was a blast! Everything was interactive, so Erin, Kelly, and I got into everything. We put on tunics, helmets, chain mail, made rubbings of our names in the Viking alphabet, got pictures with the statues, etc. It was so fun. 

 So after all of that foolishness, we went into Christ Church Cathedral. It was very large and holy and there was a stained glass window depicting St. Finbar among many others but...it was Finbar!

We went into the crypt which had some cool stuff you couldn't take pictures of like silver guilt chalices and flagos. Next to the crypt was the "Foxy Friars Gift Shop" which was either a reference to something I don't know or really irreverent.

After Christ Church, we were on our own. Finally. Being with the group can be dead annoying. Kelly, Erin, and I set off for the Guinness Brewery. We stopped at a café along the way and I had fish and chips and a diet coke for dinner. I was really uncomfortably full after that. We walked  in the freezing wind and drizzle down the river Liffey to where we believed the brewery was located. What should have been a fifteen minute walk became an hour-and-a-half trudge because we were lost. I kept up a steady flow of comic relief nonetheless.

We finally found the brewery after asking some guards and it was awkward. We walked a bit more and I was so tired I felt like lying down in the street sludge and dying. We went in, payed €11, and entered the brewery.

It was more of a museum of beer than a brewery. We explored it (following the trail of ingredients of stout). It was really neat. It had seven floors and the top one was the sky bar where you got a complimentary Guinness and a 360〫view of Dublin. It was amazing. The Guinness, however, was sickening. It was so bitter and musky, and when it hit the back of my throat I felt really nauseous and it lingered. Bleck. But the view was magnificent. I was really taken with the Wellington Monument and St. Patrick's Tower ("I'm tired of these goddam snakes in this goddam tower!")

*I forgot to mention earlier that, while we were walking from the hotel to Yeats Exhibit to Dublinia, we saw several key sights/sites of the city. We saw a statue of Molly Malone with huge, nearly exposed boobs. Joyce tried to impress us with her knowledge of the song about Molly, but, unfortunately for her, I knew it too so she is stupid. We also traipsed through St. Stephen's Green, a Dublin city park. It was just lovely: ducks, swans, trees, and such. 

We hauled to get home to the hotel before six so Kelly could change and go to Catholic Church. Apparently, if she misses a Sunday mass it could mean badness for her. But we didn't make it...we were almost sprinting really. My legs were on fire and full of fiery pain but we were still too late. So I took a nap when we finally passed out in front of the hotel. My legs hurt so much (but not nearly as much as they would in the coming days.) At least it's only Saturday...if Kelly can get to church by tomorrow night, maybe her soul will be safe. 

After napping we went to the Duke Pub to begin the "Literary Pub Crawl." We all sat upstairs, most drinking, and waited for the actors to begin. They were pretty funny, Frank and Brendan, the actors. They did a scene from Waiting for Godot and talked about Samuel Beckett. From The Duke, we went to O'Neill's but we stopped by Trinity College along the way to talk about Oscar Wilde (O'Neill's is the "college bar"). After that we went to The Old Stand, formerly known as The Monico. The last pub of the crawl was The Davy Byrnes. A man there kept looking at me creepily. I felt very uncomfortable because we kept making awkward eye contact. It was awful. After the crawl, we were so tired we decided to go to sleep. None of us was intoxicated--I point that out now because it becomes important later in the story. We went to bed and every one else went out to party, even though they had had at least one drink at each pub. Also, I'd like to include that I tried a Harp beer and it wasn't awful.

At Guinness, drinking a diet coke because Guinness is gross. Hence, the sad face.

**UPDATED** Pretend Like It's January 13, 2011

We're finally on the plane. Our flight was originally scheduled for January 11, at a comfortable 12 p.m. A short stop in Atlanta before leaving for the Dublin airport was also on the itinerary. Now, our flight departs at 8 a.m., which necessitated a 4 a.m. alarm. I ordered my mom to have breakfast (bacon, eggs, and biscuits with yum blueberry jam) ready at 4:45 a.m. We left the house at around 5:20 a.m., with Dad driving and mom and I cuddling in the back, and arrived at the Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport at 5:45 a.m. On the way over, I questioned the name of the airport. First of all, Shuttlesworth sounds goofy, although I was informed that it refers to a Mr. Shuttlesworth of the Civil Rights Movement. Second, Birmingham is not an international airport...so I just thought it was weird. As I hugged Mom goodbye, I almost started to cry. Even though I'm excited to go to Ireland, I didn't want to go without her. After all, this is the first airplane ride I've ever been on without a family member present.

Taxiing on the runway, we see ice on the pavement. It's been pushed off to the sides, causing it to form weird boulder-like clumps of snow (or what passes for snow in Alabama).

I'm in seat 11A, a window seat. The aisle seat, 11C is occupied by a woman who has been trying to fly out of Birmingham for four days. On monday, her plane couldn't take off because one of the flighrt attendants hadn't shown up. On her arrival, the flight (which had been delayed two hours already) was cancelled altogether. Her flight Tuesday was cancelled as well. On Wednesday, her flight boarded, but as they prepared for takeoff, they discovered that one of the engines wasn't working properly. After some debate they decided that it was alright...they could fly with one engine. This lady wisely decided to disembark the aircraft and wait until the next day when she could ride a plane with two working engines. I hate to even think it but...I'm afraid she may be bad luck.

At this moment, we have yet to take off. After we taxied from the terminal to the runway, the pilot turned off the engines and told us we had to wait twenty minutes before take off for an unknown reason. Please see above reference to luck...

I'm excited about this trip. And that Kelly and Erin are coming. Good team.

Hopefully I can sleep on the flight from Atlanta to Dublin. I will really need the rest once we land in Ireland. I've got a neck pillow, eye mask, ear plugs, and Tylenol PM...I should be good to go.

Yay! We are about to take off: the engine is quite loud in my seat, and I'm feeling slightly nervous about this flight, although I generally love flying. As always, we shall persever.

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I LOVE FLYING!

I love flying in the way that I love rollercoasters: there is an everpresent, terrifyingly rational fear of death in both pursuits. It's wonderful. Below us lies a sea of clouds. Hills are strange from the sky; they look like ripples in water. This plane is so small you can feel everything: ascent, descent, clouds, eddies...it's horrifying in a wonderful way. Turning is fun.

"'Thank you for flying Delta?' If it were $3 cheaper, I woulda flown on a kite!" -Mike Birbiglia

Twenty minutes til land and a seven hour layover in Atlanta...

---

The layover in Atlanta passed fairly quickly. Erin, Kelly, and I ate lunch at Atlanta Bread Company, sat around, played Uno and ERS (finally learned!), and got ice cream at Ben & Jerry's. The flight was pretty bumpy and long. I took two Tylenol PMs and tried to pass out, but it was much more difficult than I had anticipated. I got the trick of using my tray table as a place to put my pillow and then lay my head on my arms around the pillow...This technique allowed for the longest uninterrupted sleep. Unfortunately, it lasted about forty-five minutes. One half of the gay couple seated in front of me decided that he needed to lay his head in my lap so when he put his chair back, it catapulted the tray table back into my chest. I had to carefully disengage my head from my chestplate at a dreadfully odd angle...I tried to sleep with my pillow against the window, but it kept sliding around and the window was cold. My neck pillow was absolutely worthless. Unless you are accustomed to sleeping on your back (which I definitely am not) then neck pillows are of little use. So i ended up fighting the last dregs of the Tylenol PM and watching some of The Pursuit of Happyness. Talk about depressing...(They played three movies and one episode of "Two and a Half Men"--The Social Network, Eat. Pray. Love., and Pursuit.) Dinner was penne pasta, adequately mediocre, and breakfast was a banana and egg-english muffin. I guess I slept about two to three hours but my naps were in about five hour intervals--talk about exhausting. We got off the plane at 6:10 a.m., and it was still pitch black outside. So that makes two days now that I've gotten up before the sun...at least technically. Time zones are tricky buggers. We went through a very lax customs and exchanged money at the ATM. I then phoned father (and he answered promptly and sounded very alert at 1:30 a.m.) and was discouraged to see that my phone card doesn't really work. Ah well, my phone bill will just have to be astronomical. I think the text messages I received against my will were $20!! Egad!

We met our tour guide, Joyce, at the entrance to the terminal. She's a real talker, and wanted to tell us the origin of each of our names. When she asks you a question, don't fool yourself into thinking she wants to hear the answer.

We ate breakfast at the Dublin Hilton which is weird since it isn't our hotel. We're now on the bus again, waiting to set off for New Grange, a passage tomb.

Current physiological conditions: uncomfortable, upset stomach, and weary with tremendously puffy under-eye bags.

Current meteorological conditions: mostly sunny, about 10℃, 50℉ a.k.a. too warm for all my snow Sherpa gear.

Current attitude and location: moderately whiney but nonetheless optimistic outside the Dublin Hilton Hotel near the Dublin airport in Dublin, Ireland, Earth.

After breakfast, we got back on the bus to ride to New Grange, the passage tomb built 6000 years ago by Neolithic Irish farmers in the Boyne Valley. The Valley itself, dissected by the Boyne River, is spectacularly green.

As ever, I was fascinated by the stone fences, and wooden fences, and the tree fences.

Inside New Grange we were prohibited from taking pictures. Our guide at New Grange, Sinead, took us inside, down a narrow path lined with standing stones and quite low in some places.

New Grange.

All twenty-three of us got cozy in the inner chamber. The tomb is built in a cruciform shape with the passage, chamber, and three smaller antechambers with large stone basins in them for placing cremated remains and jewelry.

The entrance is divided so that there is a top portion that is approximately 8 cm tall and 30 cm wide. In the winter, at the solstice and shortest day o the year, the ancient people would anticipate the coming solar changes in accordance with the sun striking the inner chamber.

New Grange and the sun.

To the Neolithic Irish, this symbolized that hope was coming to free them from winter. The temple and standing stones are decorated with spirals and chevrons:

It really was a magical place. Sinead turned off the lights, leaving the chamber in total darkness. Then, as she spoke of how the ancient Irish viewed this ritual, a light bulb, symbolizing the solstice sun, shown down the crooked passageway and directly into the center of the inner chamber. It was very cool. I stole a small piece of gravel, and I hope that no angry gods seek vengeance. 

After we visited the tomb, we ate lunch at a café at New Grange that was really neat and served sandwiches, quiches, soups, and paninis. I ate soda bread (!!! yum) and cauliflower and cheddar soup which was kind of strange but good. 

After New Grange, we rode the bus to the Buswells Hotel on Molesworth Street for a nap. Dinner at Bleu, which was yum. 

Time to sleep now. I can't believe this has all been one day. How can this still be the same day?! (Technically, the reason this day has felt long is because it has really been two days but somehow with all the plane rides and time changes and the fact that the itinerary lists all of this as day one, it is still day one! Confusion.)

Ireland Updates

I'm in Ireland currently, Dublin specifically, although we are leaving for Sligo in the morning. I have been diligently updating my travel journal but as of right now getting computer access is quite difficult. Hopefully I'll have time to transpose my journal here tomorrow afternoon! I'm looking forward to it and I hope you are, too.

Also, pictures. There's one of a dancing bear.