I passed through customs in seconds with my Irish passport, and received a quick smile and a "welcome home" from the officer. I pranced right by the seating area where I had anxiously waited for my flight to the U.S.A back in January, filled with homesickness and exhaustion. I hopped right on the aircoach headed towards city center, using my "return" ticket that I had saved since December. I was asked for directions in the street on the short walk from the bus stop to Trinity.
Am I BMOC, or what?!?
After collapsing in my bed for 3 (okay, 4) hours, I stopped by Starbucks to reunite with Siomha and Mike, then we all headed to Kevin Whelan's house for the opening mass. It was bizarre to see an entirely new crew in the cozy house. There were some familiar faces (to be honest, I distanced myself from those faces, since I hadn't really interacted with those people since the awkward days of Freshman year...) but most of them were complete strangers. Being in such a familiar environment without the people with whom I had spent the past four months was disconcerting to say the least. When Kevin Whelan was making a long speech filled with "kinda"s and wild hand gestures, I physically turned my head to look for Thom or Kyle or Caroline to share a knowing smile with, but there was no one there to meet my eye--this was their first time meeting Kevin...his lovable quirks were new to them. The people I used to share inside jokes with are back in South Bend. I'm slowly realizing that Dave or Becky or Stevie won't just assume that we're going to O'Donaghue's after class to share a pint. I need to explain what O'Donaghue's is! I need to figure out people's names!
As a result of this odd situation, I'm noticing a problem. The Trinity kids have always been separated from the UCD kids, based on physical space alone. But that physical space definitely affected friendships last semester. Well (and I'm sure (I hope) this will change) this separation is even more dramatic this semester. Mike and Siomha and I are clustering together far more often than we normally would. I have to drag myself away from our comfortable discussions and ask the girl in the corner what her name is. In addition, Mike and Simoha and I are about 5 times more outgoing than we were the first time around. We're just more comfortable in our own skin. And, unfortunately, I think we're intimidating (scaring) people. I have to tell myself to stop talking so much, and to tone it down when I'm talking to one of the new kids.
Aside from this, things have been great.
I feel so much more put together. My room is actually CLEAN! I unpacked and organized my room in a mere 3 hours... I think it took me about 3 WEEKS to fully unpack my suitcases last semester. And, I already did all the laundry that had built up through late November and early December of last semester. Aren't you proud of me?!
It is practically spring outside. All you need is a sweater or light coat and a scarf. Birds are chirping, the snow has melted, and the green is greener than ever. There was even a little sun yesterday, turning the dozens of windows in the long room into mirror-like reflection pools. Ireland always has a striking sky, primarily because the clouds are spectacular after a storm (and there's at least a little rain nearly every day), but last night there was a glorious sunset, a sky of pinks and blues and yellows, sprinkled with little wisps of purple clouds.
I'm noticing everything a lot more. That sounds a little weird, but it's true. I think I've given myself a chance to take a breath, unclench my anxious muscles, and open my eyes.
(Also, it's not getting dark at 4:30pm anymore. It's more like 5:30pm now. Which is a nice change. So, I literally am able to notice everything now because there's more light. But let's pretend the reason is just because I'm awakening my senses and absorbing the beautiful world more now. That just makes it all so much more poetic.)
For example, when I was walking to the O'Connell house today I didn't look at the ground in front of me, or at the people clustered by the bus stop, smoking their cigarettes and looking angry. I was looking at the buildings, the little european cars, the sky, the moon appearing in the still light blue sky. I realized that W.B. Yeats lived on 82 Merrion Square, just down the block from the O'Connell house. Then about 4 doors later, I learned that Andrew O'Connor, (some famous sculptor?) lived on Merrion Square as well. And at 1 Merrion Squre? Oscar Wilde.
How am I JUST realizing this now? Two possibilities: 1. I'm only now looking carefully at the beautiful Georgian houses I'm passing and finally reading the little plaques on the brick walls. 2. I'm finally able to read the plaques because it's incredibly light outside.
I'm going to say it's a combination of both.
Slàinte,
Clare Mairead
p.s. Merrion Square is the REAL LIFE Greenfield Village. When I was a little girl (I swear I was like 9, even though Pat tells the story with me being 16) I asked my family "Isn't it a little weird that all these famous people grew up in the same town? Isn't it crazy that all these people were born in Greenfield Village?" I didn't understand that the houses had been moved to one location. And that all these famous people were not all growing up at the same time. Or even during the same generation. I swear, I was 9, not 16.
p.p.s. I'm already getting a lot of use out of my blue coat, mom. And I have received multiple compliments. So thank you for letting me take it.
p.p.p.s. In case you wanted to see more of my beautiful room....
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| I realize this one doesn't look at clean at the others--as Mike put it, there's a lot of "drapery" and that makes it look messy. I just have so many scarves. It's SUPER organized, I SWEAR. |
