"to live will be an awfully big adventure"

Today was one of the best days of my life, probably. We officially started the day at the Dublin Writers Museum, but on the way, we stopped at the General Post Office and the Garden of Remembrance. There was a big uprising in Dublin in 1916, in an effort to earn Irish independence. The General Post Office was the headquarters of the rebels, and where one of the big “instances” took place, so there are still preserved bullet holes in the building and its pillars, so that was really special to be able to see. Then, we went to the Garden of Remembrance, which is originally where the rebels were held after their defeat and arrest, and before their executions. Now, there is a big reflecting pool in the shape of a cross and a statue of the characters from one of Dublin’s folk tales.

Then, we went to the Dublin Writers Museum, where there was three really awesome things I was obsessing over, that I will now nerdily list off. First was the book where the earliest version of the “Molly Malone” song is printed, which was found in 2010. It was like Dad’s equivalent of seeing the first edition of Spider-Man. (And I know you used to own it before grandpa threw it away, but still. Just go with me on this one.) After that, there was a draft of a poem that had words crossed out and changed and it was unfinished. I didn’t recognize the name of the writer, and can’t remember who it was, but even so, it was several hundred years old and so cool to just see that writing process taking place. Usually the only works you see go through the draft process are your own, so that was just so cool to see. Then, there was a book of poetry (again—I didn’t recognize the author) and it was opened to a particular page. There was a stanza added into one of the poems by hand, using a big arrow and writing in the margins. The stanza talked about sex and the publisher refused to put it into print with that stanza, so the author would go around to book shops and write it in, by hand.

After that, we went to the James Joyce Centre which was generally cool, but my favorite thing was in the gift shop. They had a poster of the complete text of Ulysses, in teeny tiny font, and it was just the coolest thing. I wanted to buy it so badly but I tried to be good. I took a picture of the website name, though, just in case I get back to the States and decide I really do need it.

Then, we went to get lunch at this convenience store-type-thing which was semi-sketchy, but I didn’t get real food. They had hot muffins with soft serve on the top. Giant, chocolate, warm muffins with soft serve on the top. RIGHT? WHY HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT OF THIS? And it was so inexpensive and so delicious and I was just in heaven.

We went (back) to Trinity College, to go see the Book of Kells and its exhibit. The book is of the four Gospels and I don’t even know how to describe it other than to tell you to just look up pictures. It’s incredible and about 1200 years old and perfectly preserved. The pages are made of calf skin and it took more than 150 calves to make the entire book. The script and the pictures are just so intricate and obviously made with natural pigments but they’re so bright even after 1200 years. The room had 3 security guards and was really darkly lit and had like humidity controls and it was really neat to see.

Okay THEN. Then. Then. We went to the Old Library and I just can’t even. Old- Library- both of them sound atrocious, right? NO. NO. NOT AT ALL. It was quite literally the most astonishing place I’ve ever been in my life. More than 200,000 books, come of which are 600-700 years old. Not a thing can, or will ever, compare to it. Pictures do it no justice, which make me kind of happy but also sad. Obviously, I want everyone to experience it, but at the same time, it’s like my own little secret now. Well, I mean, mine and the millions of other who have seen it, too. But it was just—words can’t describe it, but I can try because I don’t ever want to forget this. Writing about this right now is kind of making me want to cry a little—that’s how I think I know this is special. I mean, Orlando makes me feel like that, too, but I’ve got people and moments invested there. I had no connection to this place when I walked in, and it was just this immediate feeling of being home. Okay, I’ll shut up with the vagueness now. Trying to write without sounding creative writing-y.  Go. Okay, immediately after you stepped through these big, dark wooden doors you’re just swallowed by the vastness of the room. It seems like it goes on forever, in all directions. The ceiling is rounded, and there’s just rows upon rows upon rows upon rows of books. And as soon as you start breathing again you’re enveloped by this musty smell of dust, old leather, and newspaper ink. And it was like this high, almost. I can’t even explain it. It was the only time I’ve ever felt like that, ever. I was just speechless, and despite my ramblings, still am. We stayed in there for what seemed like five minutes, but what was actually probably an hour or so. We ran into Professor Klemp (we were all wandering at our own pace) and I made him take a picture with me because he’s one of my favorite people in the world. He was my first English professor and he was the first one to tell me my writing had problems. And I’m not trying to sound cocky or anything when saying that, he just literally was, and it was exactly what I needed and I can never thank him enough for that. And he and I just constantly give each other crap and I love him.

Then, we did some wandering and headed back to the hotel room, where we laughed a lot before going out for dinner. We were headed to the restaurant, but passed this clothing place we’ve been wanted to go to, and decided to go in, which was a giant mistake. 7 girls thinking they’re just going to “browse” in an extremely inexpensive European clothing store. Not even close. We spent almost an hour there, and I left with a new tank top—cream chiffon with navy blue anchors, blue straps, and a bow in the back where they meet— for €9, a canvas backpack for €10, and a super cute floral wallet for €4. Which is good for me. Because I had a dress picked out, too, but decided I didn’t need it. Then, we actually made it to the restaurant, Murray’s, where we had dinner and noticed there was traditional Irish music playing, and then “This Land is Your Land” came on and we realize the lyrics were different…obviously…but that was just really cool. And now, we’re back in the room, talking about our day and being wimps about body aches.

Things I learned today (or yesterday, but forgot until now):
1. The stoplights make spaceship noises. No, for real. I recorded it.
2. Dublin has 1.2 million people.
3. I will never get used to driving on the “wrong” side of the street.
4. Dubliners have a death wish when it comes to traffic.
5. Watching a drunk, yelling Irish woman get arrested is a hundred times funnier than watching a drunk, yelling Oshkosh woman get arrested.
6. Fire alarms at our hotel are super ineffective and just sound like a wake-up call.
7. Irish drink portions range from shot glass to child-sized. It’s like they’re afraid of anything larger than a pint.

I’ve never had more feelings at the same time than I do right now. They range from stunned to amazement to exhaustion to disappointment to just pure and utter grumpiness. I mean, more of the beginning ones than the latter, though.

I hated everything about getting here. Like, I’m really glad I wasn’t with mom, dad, and Sara because one of them would have hit me across the face. I mean, I wasn’t like walking around complaining or anything I was just so over it. Spending more than five hours in Coach is just not for this girl- I got maybe 2 or 3 hours of sleep. And jet lag is one of the worst evils that plagues this earth. Got into Dublin at 8am local time, which was 2am the time I’m used to. And we had a wholeeee day ahead of us.

We met with our tour guide, Gerry, at 9 and walked around the city until 2:30. Until about 12:30, I hated everything. I just wanted to sleep and take a shower, so it was just going through the motions and shuffling across uneven cobblestone from one street to the next. Dublin reminds me a lot of New York, though, which at first was really disappointing. I wanted it to be this grandeur place that was entirely new, but it wasn’t.

We finally got to eat around 12:30 and then I was set for the next couple of hours. We moved to the south side of the city, where everything is from the 1600s, 1700s, and 1800s. The architecture is breathtaking and we went to Dublin’s Central Park, which was just this little Eden smack dab in the middle of all of these incredible buildings. And so many of those buildings are covered in thick ivy—every inch of them. It’s just straight out of a movie.

Okay, then we went to Grafton Street and while outside I probably looked disillusioned, inside I fell over and was rolling around giggling. It’s probably one of my favorite places in the world. The old buildings hold new shops and restaurants, but the people are what makes it what it is. The street is closed to vehicular traffic, and it’s just… like, I don’t even know how to describe it. There’s all of these different street performers that come there so there’s guys with guitars, one guy was a magician, there was a guy who was doing sand art, this group of old guys who were like dressed as statues and wouldn’t move until someone tipped them and then they’d mechanically tip their hats and it was just so cool to see all of these different types of people from different walks of life descend on this half a mile stretch of street. Easily the most unique place I’ve ever been in my life.

Also, there was a Disney Store on Grafton Street and I bought Disney stuff there that also says Dublin. Because, you know… my obsession is worldwide. Also, I got my cast discount, which is funny because my cast ID is one of only 3 cards I kept in my wallet for the trip.

At the end of Grafton Street is the Molly Malone statue, and I asked Gerry to sing the song. He was like “Oh, you know the song, do you?” And I was like “Yeah, I sang it my senior year of high school!” and he goes “Well, I’ll sing it, but only if you sing it with me.” And I tried to argue with him but he was just so sweet and I eventually threw in the white flag so we sang the first verse and the chorus and a couple of the girls filmed it which is really embarrassing but it was also just such a magical moment for me. I love that piece so much, and I just can’t really believe it happened.  So, here’s a screen capture from that.

Okay, then I went and took the most welcoming shower of my life, and then the two girls I’m rooming with and I took a nap because we were pretty much not coherent. We slept til 5:30, got up, got ready, and went out and wandered around for a bit before having dinner at this cute little pub and restaurant. And it was delicious. And we spent half an hour quietly trying to decide if we were supposed to ask for the check, and how tipping works. The bartender was super nice about it when we finally decided we should probably go find out—everyone’s been super nice about everything. I love this city. And here are the girls I’m rooming with- one I know from UWO, the other I went to North with.

Okay, then we went back to the room for like an hour and then at 9:30 we met up with a bunch of the other girls and went to Temple Bar, which is a bar in itself, but also the name of this huge pub district. Most of the pubs had live music, so we finally kind of just closed our eyes and picked and landed in this really awesome pub which had a duet playing while half to three-quarters of the pub sang along, depending on the song. And it was like one of the most magical moments of my life.

Okay, I’m going to go sleep for days now. Just kidding, I’m going to sleep until 7:30, when I have to start getting ready for breakfast. We’re going back to Trinity College tomorrow, and then the Dublin Writers Museum and I just can’t believe we’ve only been here one day. I don’t know how it can get better than this.

Things I learned today:
1. I hate international travel.
2. If you’re on my flight, I probably hate you.
3. Irish people are just as awesome as I was anticipating.
4. You have to be exceptionally attractive to live in Dublin (apparently).
5. Mario knows what he’s talking about with those power-ups (though, in this case, my power-up wasn’t a mushroom- it was a chicken salad sandwich and a nap). They go a long way.

I’m like a five-year-old on Christmas morning right now. I was up at 6:30 a.m., wide awake, and so excited.

I’ve got another hour and a half before I head to school so we can be on our way to O’Hare, but I’ve got a lot of luggage moving around to do before then.

I have a packing problem.

I’m in the middle of finishing my research papers right now, but I just didn’t feel like it anymore and this seemed like a better alternative.

I have nothing packed, I still have 200 more words to write, and I still have 4 and a half books to finish, but all that I care about is that in 48 hours, I’ll be in an airplane, on my way to Dublin. I just can’t explain how excited I am. Plus, today I found out I don’t have to pay for my checked bags AND there’s free wine on the flight. Some of the best news I’ve ever gotten.

All I’ve ever wanted to do was travel. Well, that’s not true. According to all of my essays from elementary school, I just wanted to own a pet store. But, since I got out of Wisconsin and started going places, all I’ve ever wanted to do was travel. It must have started with the first time I went to Chicago. There’s something about big cities and new places that just makes me feel alive and like there’s always something to learn. That’s one thing I never want to do- stop learning. I want to go places and see things and meet strangers and experience everything possible. I know a lot of people reading this don’t get that- mom and dad both said they’d never want to go overseas. But I just can’t imagine staying in this pinprick of a town for the rest of my life.

There aren’t words for how I’m feeling about this trip, but I mostly feel like this is just the first stop. The first pin into the map. The first of my big adventures. There’ll be more- that’s the one thing I’m absolutely sure of.

I said yesterday that I wanted to post this one poem I really loved, and there’s another one I just read that’s just gorgeous, too, so I’m going to post both of those so I have them for the future, and also just in case anyone wants to read some wonderful poems by Irish authors.

This is the third stanza from a W.B. Yeats poem called “The Stolen Child.” The last four lines are repeated as a refrain throughout the piece, and I just really love the voice of the poem. I also think I might use “Give them unquiet dreams” as a borrowed line in a poetry class next semester. Such a unique way of looking at things.

“Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From the ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.”

This poem is the mermaid one I was talking about yesterday. It’s by Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill, who does all of her writing in Irish. She won’t translate her own poems, but allows a translator to, as long as the poems which are formally published in English also include the Irish version.

The Mermaid in the Hospital

She awoke
to find her fishtail
clean gone
but in the bed with her
were two long, cold thingammies.
You’d have thought they were tangles of kelp
or collops of ham.

“They’re no doubt
taking the piss,
it being New Year’s Eve.
Half the staff legless
with drink
and the other half
playing pranks.
Still, this is taking it
a bit far.”
And with that she hurled
the two thingammies out of the room.

But here’s the thing
she still doesn’t get—
why she tumbled out after them
arse-over-tip…
How she was connected
to those two thingammies
and how they were connected
to her.

It was the sister who gave her the wink
and let her know what was what.
“You have one leg attached to you there
and another one underneath that.
One leg, two legs…
A-one and a-two…
Now you have to learn
what they can do.”

In the long months
that followed,
I wonder if her heart fell
the way her arches fell,
her instep arches.

I just love that you don’t know who the speaker is or what his/her relationship to the mermaid is or how she got that way and just that there’s this moment for her that I think we all experience where it’s like “what is going on” and it’s trying to find an identity and just grasping at straws. Throwing away things you can’t understand, trying to figure out what the purpose of everything is and how you got there. I especially love the last stanza, since I think that’s when it really makes that transition to that larger commentary.

And now I sound like my high school English teachers. NERD. These last two semesters have just really taught me to love poetry, okay?

I haven’t done this in a while. I kept a blog while I was temporarily living in Orlando a year and a half ago, and that was the best nine months of my life. And now, while I’m back at home, I can look back on those posts and the little things I’d never remember if I hadn’t written it all down at the time. Well, I’m back home and I’m going on new adventures now. In just a few days, I’ll be in Ireland for probably the only time in my life. I want to remember every second of it, and I want everyone at home to be able to live it with me. Well, those who care. I’m not some obnoxious narcissist who thinks everyone’s life revolves around mine. (I’ll also use capital letters this time so those pro-caps aunties can follow along, too.) But additionally, I won’t have a phone, so this way, Mom, Dad, and Sara will know I’m not lost in a field somewhere, making friends with sheep.

We’ve been assigned readings for our pre-trip classes, and I’m already in love with this country. There’s something eloquently mystical about it and the writing and the way that they’re so passionate about everything they do. They’re also a very new country, so there’s underlying nationalism in everything. We were assigned a poem for yesterday that I’m just in love with. It’s about a mermaid who wakes up in the hospital to find she has legs. I guess that sounds pretty odd, but it’s just a beautiful piece of rhetoric that, underneath, is talking about how Ireland is becoming what the authors we’ve been studying refer to as “Anglicized,” or more English. I think I might post it on here, just so I have it if I ever lose my giant anthology binder. And so anyone else who cares can read it, too.

Ireland is just the beginning; I’ve got a passport and big plans. If the last 21 years are any indication, this life thing is going to be pretty darn incredible.