Tuesday, after a failed lunch in the Buttery with Nicole (very expensive for not so great food), I had my first Shakespeare tutorial. It was...interesting. There are only 10 people in my tutorial (which means I can't miss ANY or my grade gets lowered...) and they are all. So. Irish. I haven't interacted with Irish people all that much, aside from Eoghan and Daragh and a couple girls in Dr. Horrible. I was surprised to learn that Irish people are different from Americans. I guess I should have known that.
But it hit me very hard in the tutorial. Most of them were nearly silent, and when they did speak, their uncertain, shy answer seemed so charming and intelligent. Not fair. This one boy (guy? man? I don't know what's appropriate to call a 20 year old) was the most intellectual person I've ever met. He had on grandpa loafers, striped, earth-tone socks, and corduroys. Very dark hair, lots of scruff, attractive. Very, very, very serious. Had an intensely proper (nearly English) Irish accent. His brow (yes, his brow) was constantly furrowed (yes, furrowed) as he answered questions with confidence, forced-humbleness, and an "I'd like to explore this complex issue further..." sort of attitude. He challenged all of his classmates about their responses to questions (including me).
I do not like this boy.
At one point, our professor had us read a scene out loud. This boy (man, guy, manchild, what have you) was the male lead Petruchio. He and another girl read the scene with little emotion or expression, and yet it was one of the most natural, moving readings of a Shakespeare scene I've seen. People with accents have all the luck!! Shakespeare just seems to fall so naturally into the British (and I guess Irish) accent. I don't think the Scots can pull it off too well though. Ok, I got a little off topic. That night I had theology (eh) and a little make-shift dinner with Siomha and Mike back in our flat. Mike had me listen to the song we're going to be performing for Thanksgiving mass. All Notre Dame kids are invited to a fancy shmancy Thanksgiving dinner at the Merrion Hotel, held by the Naughton Family (the OWNERS of the hotel. no big deal). He let me know that I was going to be singing the soprano part. Alone. So, I better start warming up. Now.
Wednesday, I did some much need shopping with Nicole. We looked like big goons walking through grafton st. with huge shopping bags. I've noticed that people in Dublin just walk any which way they please. In America (oh how I miss thee), we all know to walk on the right side of the sidewalk. In Dublin, I THINK the rule is the left. However, either they break this rule all the time, or there are just SO many tourists and international people that the rule has essentially been demolished. Walking on the sidewalk has become a video game, ducking in and out and around and speeding up and slowing down. With shopping bags...well... the video game becomes that much harder.
After I conquered the video game, I exercised for the FOURTH time since I've been in Dublin. Pathetic. I'll go more now that things have settled down. Then I had to run to rehearsal...I had a lot of fun. But the musical director doesn't know how to run a rehearsal, and the director is still just...weird. I miss Mark Wurzelbacher and Brian Davenport oh so much. Anyways, I'm one of the groupies in the song 'Perfect Story.' I'm singing the low alto part. High soprano one day and low alto the next! Craziness, I tell you! If you want to watch a little of the show, here you go. I'm the gay guy. Yep.
On Thursday we had our first rehearsal for the Deer's Cry at the O'Connell house. It went well... but slowly. After rehearsal, I hurried back to Trinity to meet my friend and her family. They wanted to check out the Book of Kells, and as I hadn't seen it yet, I was more than happy to be their free ticket! Felt pretty cool to flash the Trinity student ID and march in there for free, a parade of people trailing behind me. The Book of Kells was cool, but the library is what stunned me. I was suddenly in Harry Potter. I was in the library in Beauty and the Beast. I was transported back in time, to 250 years ago. It was dark, ancient, mysterious, and HUGE. If Trinity students were still allowed to study there, I would do nothing else but study. Unfortunately all the books are roped off. Everything preserved for the public. If you want to read a book from the Old Library, there's a little reading room for people to go sit in. You request a book (you have to have a very good reason to read that book). The librarian puts on gloves. Then she climbs all the ladders, sliding around like Belle in the Beauty and the Beast or Olivander in his wandshop in Harry Potter. She brings you the book. You are allotted two hours to read the book. Then she puts it back for you. CRAZY. I can't imagine the day when Trinity students were actually allowed to study in there, peruse the bookshelves whenever they liked. So many things happened in that library. Charles Stewart Parnell was secretly sworn into the Irish Republican Brotherhood in that library. The library houses one of 10 original copies of the Irish Declaration of Independence. Walking through that library, cursing the swarms of tourist invading MY library, I couldn't believe that I'm actually attending Trinity College.
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| I did not take this picture. You are not allowed to take pictures. Plus, this picture is way to incredible to have been taken by me. |
To end the evening, I went back to my place to meet up with Nicole and a couple UCD girls. Caroline and I were just going to have a few drinks, then meet up with the Canadian guys we met in Edinburgh, since they were flying in that night to spend the weekend in Dublin. After a couple bottles of wine and lots of laughter, I looked up to see that there were THREE Trinity cops standing outside my door. Siomha and I went over to talk to them. The assholes (sorry) said that they could hear us all the way from the Front Gate, and that we were a "disturbance." One cop said "You need to register parties." I told him that there were only 5 people over (excluding me and Siomha) and the windows were wide open, which is probably why they heard us from so far away. He asked me if everyone in the room was a Trinity student.
I responded "I think so," thinking he'd say, "Okay, well then keep it down."
But no, he said "Are you sure, because I'm about to go check their IDs."
Whoops! Time for me to backpedal. "Oh, well a few of them are friends of friends, so I'm not positive that they go here" (nice one Clare).
So one of the cops went to check IDs, and the other two cops decided to be mean to me.
"So, before, you were lying?"
"No, I said they're friends of friends. I'm not sure if they go here or not."
"So you don't know where your friends go to school."
"No, sir." Anyway, the big bad cops informed me that NO non-Trinity students are allowed to be on campus after midnight. WHAT THE HECK!? Is this Notre Dame all over again? Instead of guy-parietals, it's non-trinity-student-parietals. Not cool. Really not cool. It was 4 Trinity students and 3 UCD students having wine and talking. Call the police!!! I guess when they say "No overnight guests" they mean "No guests past midnight." I'm going to suggest they clarify that rule. After getting very angry about the fact that I'm going to school at the Ireland version of Notre Dame (kidding, kind of), Caroline and Nicole and I still went out and tried to salvage the night with the Canadian guys. We stayed up much too late, considering we were about to embark on a roadtrip to Cork at 9am the next morning...
Four hours after I went to sleep, I heard an alarm going off. Terrified that it was a fire alarm, I jumped out of bed. Then, the alarm seemed much quieter. It was just my alarm clock. Oh. Ok. I collapsed back on the bed and pressed snooze. It went off again. I freaked out again. This cycle continued another 3 times. Then I woke up. A complete zombie, I got dressed, burned a couple of CDs for the trip, drank some much needed water, and headed out in the crisp October morning to meet Caroline and the guys. The car was tiny. My long legs were unhappy. At first I thought this trip might be as horrible as the hung-over bus experience. But it was actually wonderful. I miss driving in my car so much. Such a smooth beautiful drive, watching the Irish countryside fly by and listening to great music. When we were about a half hour outside of Cork, in the beautiful country, miles from civilization, I started to regret drinking that entire bottle of water. Jayme, handling the stick shift and wrong-side-of-the-road driving with perfect ease, was also regretting his water-chugging. We were both dying. Once we got inside Cork, we were desperate to find parking. But the world decided to laugh at us. It took nearly another half an hour to navigate the city. The traffic was crazy, with a high population of old-man taxi drivers with thick accents that park in the middle of one way streets just to have a little chat with the cab driver next to them. All I can say is I've never been so relieved to see the "Toilets" On our way out of the mini-mall near the parking lot (feeling much happier and in much less pain) Matt discovered a claw vending machine thing filled with HUGE lollipops inside. Between the two of them, Jayme and Matt spent about 5 euro trying to grab one.
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| "Oooh THE CLAWW" (5 points if you know what movie that's from) |
Jayme came dangerously close once, but after being lifted a couple inches off the ground, the lollipop slipped from the giant claw and crashed to the ground. I let out a high pitched scream of anguish, causing several heads to turn. We decided in was time to leave the mini-mall and actually GO OUTSIDE and see Cork. We explored the town, filled with pastel houses and beautiful bridges. It is an odd mix between Dublin and downtown Belfast. A little cleaner, a little shinier, a little more space. But still with the Dublin feel. After lunch, we explored the Holy Trinity Church and Fenor's Cathedral. Both were spectacular. I've learned that there are two main tourist attractions in Ireland: Castles and Churches. But hey, I'm not complaining! Realizing it was almost 2:30, we started our journey to Blarney. We were all feeling the exhaustion (especially after our lunch) so the guys convinced me to (dun dun DUN) have my first red bull. I was uneasy. I thought "I kind of have a headache right now. How will this help?" I'd never had red bull before (except when it was accompanied by jager) but I gave into the peer pressure. And ya know what? It was a miracle cure. I'm obsessed.
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| St. Finbar's Cathedral |
Feeling much more alive, we headed to Blarney. The castle is beautiful! I didn't even realize how wonderful Blarney castle was, since the stone is the main attraction. But enjoyed exploring the cave and dungeon (Jayme went all the way into dark, 3 foot high dungeon alone...a brave soul). Every room of the castle was a seemed to hold a memory, a piece of history. As we visited each room and climbed higher and higher up the winding staircase, my excitement mounted. I wanted to kiss the stone already! Finally I got to. It was much more organized than I envisioned it. They had a little clorox bottle there, in case someone did something stupid to/on the stone. They had two guys supervising--one taking a picture of you, and one making sure you didn't fall down into the gap between the stone and the castle. Very organized. And very anti-climactic. But still nice to say I did it!
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| Blarney Castle |
We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the grounds...visiting the Blarney mansion, climbing trees, frolicking in the rare and wonderful sunshine. Then, after another Red Bull (I'm telling you, it's fantastic), we headed on the 3rd part of the road trip. We had dinner in Kilkenny at a traditional, Irish...Steakhouse. Okay, so it wasn't very Irish. But it was delicious. And it was one of the only places still open! Kilkenny seems like a very sleepy town. Everywhere was closed by 7:30 on a Friday night. After eating far too much food (and paying too much...) it was 9:00. We were all exhausted and ready for the drive home. Driving down the highway in the dark, in sleepy silence, 'Disco Inferno' came on the radio. The car ride became a whole lot more fun. Jayme and Matt both started subtly bopping their heads. Then they started bouncing their knees. Then they were full on jamming. And singing. Rather poorly. Caroline and I could not stop laughing. If that wasn't enough, 'Don't Go Breakin My Heart' came on next, and Matt and I entertained the car with a little duet. The 70s music just kept coming. It was a wonderful end to the evening. But by 10:30, the music had ended, and we were finally back in Dublin. Caroline didn't want to deal with the bus shenanigans, so the guys offered to try to find UCD and drop her off. I asked them to drop me off at Trinity first. Thank goodness I did, because they didn't get back to city center until 12:15!!! I knew that would happen. The city is pretty hard to navigate if you don't know where you're going. I met them for a couple of drinks at the Porter house, and (fate!) Woodsey, Norah's favorite live music act from her time in Ireland, was playing the late night show. When I realized it was him, I asked him for a photograph, and he heartily agreed. I told him my sister and all her friends were big fans. Then he pretended he knew her ("Norah Cooney...that sounds familiar..."). Maybe Norah is just really memorable! :)
Saturday, I woke up around 11 to find a text from Matt asking if I'd take the guys to see the Book of Kells. I took them, mostly because I wanted to see the Old Library again! After I gave them a little tour of Trinity, we grabbed lunch at Cornucopia. I spent the rest of my afternoon trying to get my room in order before I went to a Joshua Radin concert with Nicole. I fell in love. Beautiful voice, honest lyrics, great sense of humor, and humble as all get out. He only started playing guitar and writing music about 6 years ago, which is pretty inspiring. There is still hope for me! Maybe one day I'll try writing music. I feel like I have things to say, things to write, if I just let myself try. After the concert ended at 10:30, Nicole and I went to Peadar Kearney's to meet the Notre Dame kids (ND won, woo!) and Matt and Jayme one last time. It was my friend Dave's birthday at midnight, so we had to make the most of the hour. After the birthday boy and I won a game of beer pong, we all made friends with the bartender and played countless Beatles songs on the jukebox. We closed the bar (the bartender gave us free shots as a parting gift) and called it a night.
Now, time for reality. I spent all of Sunday studying, and it was not fun. But I'm getting back in the groove. I just desperately need a massage (Norah, where are you?)... my back hurts in just about every which way I lay or sit, which makes doing homework extremely difficult.
If you made it to the end of this blog post, I congratulate you. Whoever you are, thanks for caring :)
Goodnight,
Clare Mairead
Clare, I'm thinking you need to develop a taste for liquids other than beer and red bull. Cider? soft of course. Lemonade? Water? Who was this girl that hated beer.
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