Where are you Going-Dave Matthews

A slip of paper greeted me when I came home tonight. I have a parcel!!! You dont understand how exciting this makes me. Its from Gramma, Ash or Emma...Gramma's means rice cakes and Mac and Cheese, Ash and Emma's are mysteries but anything from them would make my day. Come onnnnnn eight o'clock!!

I've discovered the greatness that is the radio on iTunes. Theres a station out of Bowling Green Ohio that plays the songs we sing at church, ooooold school hymns and bluegrassy, puts me in the front pew pretty easy and bout made me cry when I found it. Only on Sunday mornings though, at noon it goes polka.

So all I ever want to listen to is American country, and I cant help but think of driving 52 up to Purdue in the summer. Put the windows and canvas back down and drive and its so hot and the sun is blinding bright and there are corn fields that shine. Gosh I want to be there so bad and I think that I have to get an internship this summer...anything that'd have me in a corn field all day...

Last night was Beatriz's 21 and all the Spaniards made lots of Spanish dishes and decorated the dining room with balloons and streamers and everyone was dressed up so chic and cute. Company was good, conversation was good, it was so fun. Everyone you talk to is so lovely, I cant help but feel like I have to spend the summer in their country. No matter what I'm doing, even if I'm an Au Pair or a farmhand making no money at all, I have to live the places they call home, just seeing them will not suffice. The Spanish girls are always singing and they're so fun and when I hear the French speak I vow to learn French because its just so lovely. With as many places as there are in the world I cant afford to see the same place twice. I've seen Indiana for the last 20 years, lets give Sounthern France a summer, Spain, Germany or Greeeeeeece.

Have you ever seen A Good Year with Russell Crowe? Thats what I want my summer to be...I think thats southern France, but really anywhere I've never been'd be pretty magical.

Could I forgive myself for missing all the weddings this summer? And ya know as much as I talk about wanting to be home, it has its magic too. And who knows where life is going, maybe I'm to live my whole life in Southern France and should spend as much time as I can in the place I currently call home.

Haha, I met a Bostonian boy in the kitchen last night, and I knew immediately he was Boston. One: He was attractive AND lacked the man scarf. Two: Backwards cap. Three: Timberlands. Kid could have been Marky Marks little brother. Tommy (also Boston) came in and when they left all the American girls talked about how much they missed such American boys...and I hate how true it is.

I have friends, I have hobbies and school keeps me busy but walking down the Green Mile that is my hallway I had to stop and pray this morning because...I dunno its the sunshine and cornfield factor, ya get these 5 minute spouts where you really wanna be home. Then you get to school and friends are such good crack (catch that slang!) you day dream through lecture about how much more school you'd have to do if you were to come back next year. I want to be here with them next year...but with ag. education courses it would definatly mean an extra year or a change of major...

My psychic says I'm not coming home(!). Meh, I'll be home soon enough I suppose, I cant afford this life much longer.

I get so jealous of Michael Purol studying in New Zealand, hes like climbing mountains and junk seeing these great things and now I'm determined to discover ths country. I went kayaking last weekend and the kids were just about te coolest people I've ever met but seriously, they were in the water and it was 30 degrees so no doubt they were a bit touched. I really had confidence in myself. I honest to goodness thought I could handle myself. I've grown up in a kayak, I thought it'd be cake. There was frost on the ground, a crack in my boat and I really did want to die haha and I about did, four times I went over and three times had to come outta the boat.

Do note: You can get Wheelers disease (?) if you dont use antibacterial after kayaking in Ireland because rats pee on the bank and then you get it on your hands and die. Probably.

Live High by Jason Mraz

Sitting alone on a bench in a park in Blackrock Village, Dublin Ireland with a complete lack of emotion to the end of my very first real relationship, if one could call it thus. The clouds bright with city light simply glide across the sky and I wonder who they'll look down on in an hour. I wonder if last night someone was walking out of the gym at Purdue, and crossing the lawn and looked up into the big sky and noticed the clouds and stars as I used to on my walk home. My iPod plays the soundtrack to my life and I love how Jason Mraz (completely brilliant) makes so many references to God but kid sings so sexily of sex and drugs and I love every word.

Right so the clouds run away and the sky opens up and I feel like I'm in the lion king, I wisper Simba's name as if to call on him to bring me wisdom.

Tom Petty's American Girl and I'm proud.

My toes are freezing but I cant be bothered and for a second I wish Dad were sitting next to me, in the next second I realize how okay I am sitting alone. I've friends here and best girlfriends are a skype away but when it comes down to it...I'm alone. In Ireland alone. I'm on my own and I'm just fine. Thats where I thank God to be raised the way I was.

I walk into the darkness and head for "home" as God gives me a look back at the weekend and says "This is how your life could be if I didnt have your back. You're welcome." And I laugh beceause God, its true.

I've come to peace with the fact that home will always be on my mind. My iPod is always on shuffle and you cant hear American Country and not think of home. It seems that everyone I meet here has a twin, a look a like, or just reminds me vaguely of someone back home. You're all here in one form or another. Home is always in the back of my mind, but thats okay. Its not sad or homesick, its just fact. I've been on the look out for UCD's Robbie Hummel equivalent and I think I've found him but hes dark curly hair, glasses, dimples and a hurling bat permanently attached to his hand.

last night i was eating peanut butter and celery and it was spit out by an irish boy and called disgustin. Whateves Dylan, whateves. Tonight, I was talking to a spanish boy who was eating an olive oil sandwhich. no comment.

Have fallen in love with the way of life here. I have no access to tv (hulu isnt available here) and I know its only been five days, but I'm thinking I dont miss it all that much.

The kitchens and dining room is the social spot but you wont see a soul until atleast 7:00 but its much busier around 8:00. As people cook, they talk and laugh and as they eat they eat and laugh and drink and share everything. At 10:00 when I would be heading to the gym, doing homework or going to sleep, groups are headed out to the pubs. Its not a party and its not getting drunk, its time together living and learning. Getting to know about people and culture and building relationships with those around you.

Mom would hear none of it and it made me a little sad. A lot sad.

Tonight, I didnt know how to get home from the bus stop and a kid my age said he was headed the same way and he walked me home. People back home tell you not to be nieve and not to trust everyone you meet but in my experience here, you can trust them, every single one has been nothing but nice and helpful and not annoyed at all that I'm another lost foreigner.

I'm glad for the writing on streets at the intersections that tell you which direction to look before crossing the street because theres always a car coming from a direction I dont expect.

Day One

I've just about blown through two hundres dollars since arriving at 9:00 this morning. The taxi was fifty euro, but I had heavy luggage and would have had to have gotten like three buses none of which I'm familiar with. Add the one converter, contact solution, six apples, milk and a small pizza and bam, 200 big ones. I'm not going to last here...I must find a job.

Not many people have moved in yet but theres a spanish girl down the hall named Virginia, she has taken me around and loaned me sheets and is really great. We met an boys in the kitchen, one from Germany, and another from Italy and I can tell this is going to be a fabulous semester. Hahaha not because of the boys, those two comments should have been two different sentences. There are two Irish girls on my floor right now, one from Denmark and all the rest are Spanish.

Black rock is our neighborhood and it is very cute, Harry Potter-esq. Campus is small and cool and old, every building has a cross on the roof and I've not figured out why.

Virginia is playing Lady Gaga down the hall and I'm taken back to West Lafayette and all who are going to see her live tonight. Luckies, enjoy it shes going to be awesome I'm sure.

Here are random thoughts that I cant tie together:
Dublin is a lot like Indy.
I smile when I see a Ford.
I wish I brought room decor, like my hanging butterfly lights..
I was excited for beach bonfires, but you're not allowed on the beach nearest me, I dont know whats up with that.

I'll try and think up something really deep for my next post.

Inside the Gate

I love cheap but I despise flying out of Chicago. The rents see it as another great way to spend time with me before I leave. I see it as three hours of nervous stomach. I'll never get over it. I love flying and take off never gets old or less exciting. I hate the drive, the curb, the check in and security. The drive up is a somach ache, I cant swallow, the back of my eyes hurt and I feel so gross I just want to sleep and forget about the trip. I dont talk about it though because that makes it worse and I'd cry. Just like my fears of all that can go wrong, I told Mom about them when she called and I abou cried. What happens when I get to the counter and I've lost my passport or left my wallet on my desk at school? What would I do without a passport and or wallet? I thought I lost my papers, boarding passes and residency papers for school. I had to retrace my steps until I found them in the inside pocket of my coat. Typical really.

I get too worked up and I know it and I know its all completely mental. It helps to ride with dad whos always telling some entertaining story about someone who had to poop or Purdue basketball. Music helps and I thank God for great friends who think enough to burn cd's just for this trip. They really help. They're my pump up jams for the big game. They make me raise my chin and clear my head, they say put your big girl panties on and get yourself to Dublin. People do this all the time literally. It isnt hard. I really do hate coming out of Chicago though. Indy is my airport, I know it and probably the people working there lol. Goodness that guy is tall.

Music has got to be the greatest thing ever. Its the Electric Feel of MGMT that just amkes your head move and your world right. Takes you away from this gate and its two hour wait (<-- look at that talent, I should rap.)

When planes fly over head on campus I cant help but look and wish I were up there. When I see commericial jets way up in the sky I cant help but put myself up there, wondering who is on that flight and why. Business? Boring. Vacationers, people leaving home and people coming home. Coming home is a really great feeling, but leaving home has an (s)excitment about it (you're welcome Anna Turner).

Who the eff travels in heels? Really?! What are you doing? To each their own I guess. Have fun with that.

I'm trying to pick out the Irish around me. Impossible. Maybe the gray bearded gentleman. It shouldnt be hard distinguishing Philly residence from Irish, I must not know the difference. I think that woman just came out of the mens bathroom.

Also, people having in depth conversations in the gate area are almsot as bad as those who talk on their cell with other people in the car. Gate convos are annoying, car convos I just dont like.

The reflection in the labtop screen makes me wish I brushed my hair. I dont hink I packed my hair brush...dreads here I come...and everyone know you cant have dreads without a nose ring... Holla