A Weekend of Giving Tanks and Snow on the Beach 11/25-11/28

A Victoria Lodge Thanskgiving!

The weeks between surf Saturday and Thanksgiving passed with out much excitement. I went to a couple trad sessions held by the UCC trad society at An Spailpin Fanac, watched Survivor: Samoa, got my hair cut (it's a little Bonjovi-esque), and watched Munster beat Australia in rugby.

As anyone who knows me will know, Thanksgiving is absolutely my favorite holiday. I mean what's not to like, it's a day dedicated to eating too much tasty food and spending time with family and friends. Honestly, I was a little nervous about how good an Irish Thanksgiving could possibly be especially since I was planning on spending it in Belfast on a trip sponsored by my program. I couldn't help but remember how alienating and uncomfortable the last program trip was and I just couldn't imagine spending my favorite day of the year in a foreign city with people who wouldn't even notice if I wasn't there! So I decided not to go. Instead I signed up for the surf weekend getaway to Dingle and to bring candied carrots and cobbler to my friend Roger's Thanksgiving dinner party.

What a good decision.

Surfboard covered in ice? Not a good sign!

Thanksgiving started off on a weird note, because it was just another Thursday for everyone around me. I went to lectures as usual and kept having to remind myself that it was, in fact, Thanksgiving! After class I trekked up to Tesco and lugged all of my ingredients back to my apartment where my roommate and I were both frantically preparing our dishes. I worked so hard that I got a blister on my finger from cutting and peeling carrots and apples. Pathetic, I know.

Cooking for other people makes me more stressed than almost anything else I can think of. Eventually my dishes were done (late might I add) and I was so flustered that while transporting them downstairs I dropped my phone in the sticky apple portion of the cobbler! Upon arrival I immediately was relieved. Everyone was in such a cheery and relaxed mood (courtesy of a few pre-dinner drinks, I'm sure) and we were each assigned Thanksgiving roles. Parts included: creepy drunk uncle, teens back from college, happy couple, unhappy couple, foreign exchange student etc.

View from the cottage #1

The qualms I had about a lack of good food were immediately put to rest as there was barely room for our plates on the table! Each person had really pulled their weight by bringing a delicious dish including 3 different types of potatoes, stuffing, chicken (turkey is really expensive here), green bean casserole, garlic bread, brownies, cake, and some other things I'm sure. We each piled the food on our plates and began stuffing our faces. Periodically Roger ("the drunk uncle") would call out people to make toasts and say what they were thankful for. When my turn came I was forced to stand on my chair and said, "Even though this has been the least appropriate Thanksgiving dinner (it really had, those boys have got some dirty mouths!), it's definitely been the most memorable." Or something like that. Pretty cheesy, but I'm proud of thinking of it in such a high stress moment!

View from the cottage #2

Once every one's plates were as clear as they were going to get (some people's eyes are much bigger than their stomachs) we clear the table and began the Thanksgiving tradition of a beer pong tournament. Classy evening, I know.

The next day I packed up my backpack and met up with  fellow surf clubbers to head off for the weekend trip on the Dingle Peninsula!  We stood in the parking lot for about an hour before dividing up into cars and heading out. My friend Jessie and I got into a car with two Irish girls, one from Wexford and the other a Cork native, and freshman boy from Waterford. The car ride over was a blast accompanied by two great CD complete with a mix of Disney tunes, hipster songs, and techno. On the way there we stopped at a couple stores to get drink and food for the weekend, Jessie and I definitely did not get enough food.

On the drive through the Alps

After multiple U-turns we eventually arrived at the Inch Beach Cottages where the surf club had booked 4 cottages. Immediately we threw our stuff on a bed, fixed up a sandwich, and started watching the "Late Toy Show" or something. Apparently it's a one night special where this creepy guy in ugly Christmas "jumpers" hosts a TV show for kids to figure out what toys to ask for from Santa. It's pretty funny complete with malfunction toys and awkward interviews with children. In true Irish and surf club form, someone wrote out rules to make the Late Toy Show a drinking game with rules such as "Drink every time a toy breaks" or "down your drink every time the host is wearing a ridiculous jumper." Although it started off a bit awkward since it felt like everyone already knew each other, it ended up being quite fun with the pinnacle being a midnight snow fall!

Hannah and Me

The next day we all woke up, ate whatever we had for lunch, piled on the layers, and heading to the beach for some surfing. The drive to the beach felt like a drive through the Alps so when we got there most of the girls and I decided to go for a walk instead of plunging into the freezing water. It was such a beautiful day that it didn't matter if we got in the water, just being there was good enough for me!

The drive home though was terrifying. I love the Irish, but they drive like lunatics! We went careening around icy and bendy roads in this little tiny car. I was seriously concerned for my safety. Jessie and I even tried to use some passive aggressive "slow down" techniques, but to no avail.

Eventually we made it home safely and Jessie and I devoured the last bit of our food while watching episodes of Friends. Watching Friends with the surf club was great because on of the boys watching looks EXACTLY like Chandler and all the boys who were watching laughed out loud, something that never happens in the States. After a quick nap we all headed up to the main cottage and spent the rest of the night mingling, sledding, mooching food (including curry powder burgers-yum!) and dancing. It was quite a fun day!

Sunday turned out to be pretty mellow consisting mostly of chatting and cleaning. I have never seen a collection of houses as dirty as those four cottages. It was almost remarkable how big of a mess was made! After doing our share of the cleaning Jessie, Hannah, Inna, and myself headed down for a walk on the beach and sandwiches in a tiny restaurant. Once full we loaded up the cars and headed home before the roads froze over again.

What a great weekend!

"If it swells, ride it!" Surf Saturdays and Swedish Cinema

The week after Halloween was mostly spent trying to recovering and floundering to get things done. There's really nothing worse than days where you get absolutely nothing done, whether because you're lazy or things just aren't coming together, it doesn't matter. Adding to feeling guilty about not checking off my to-do list, I was also getting really panicky about how little time I had left in Ireland. The combination of frustration and panic let me to sign up to participate in Surf Saturday, sponsored by the UCC surf club. Guilt and panic will get you to do some pretty crazy things sometimes. So on Wednesday at 1300 I met my friend Jessie and we signed up to surf.

As I walked home from college Friday evening, I had every intention of making myself some dinner and curling up in bed watching a movie. But, as I turned on the hob (what they call the stove) I received a text message from my neighbor inviting me over for dinner with the Swedes and then an evening of jazz. Oh, why not, I thought. Dinner was great. Ian made a tasty pasta dish and garlic bread and we all sat around and chatted. Around 9 we headed into town and I finally asked, so where are we going. Apparently, Mikael had heard of a screening of some Swedish silent film accompanied by a jazz improve group. Maybe I should have realized how weird it would be just from that quick description.

Upon arriving at the pub everything seemed pretty normal, music bumping, drinkings being poured, and the dull roar of chit-chat. We quickly vacated the normal area of the pub and headed upstairs to find seats. The movie started soon enough and then things really started getting weird. The band made groaning noises as the grim reaper crept across the screen. Although, the movie is famous for it's quality special effects the story was a little bit too creepy for my liking. As the band played the plot was unveiled. According to a Swedish legend, the last person to die each year, instead of going to heaven/hell, is forced to become the grim reaper for the entire rest of the year. This as you can imagine, isn't very pleasant. Neither was watching it.

Maybe I'm just not artistically minded enough, but when at one point a techie bumped the computer and the DVD player read "1:40:27" remaining I about had a heart attack. How was I going to get out of this living artsy hell? About 5 minutes passed (slowly) when the bass player in the band got up and left the room. Well if he can leave, then I definitely can! And so I did. Outside I ran into a friend of mine and we got a pint in Preacher's, a pub known for it's classic rock playlists. Heck, I'd take drunk Irish boys dancing to ACDC over freaky Swedish silent movies any day of the week!

Garretstown Beach on a much sunnier day!

Surf Saturday 11/13. Proof that no one looks good in a hood

The next morning I woke up, packed my backpack, and headed off to Garretstown near Kinsale for my first surfing lesson. Like all Irish boys, our surfing instructor's name was Shane. My lesson group consisted of all female UCC students who were equally nervous about plunging into the cold water over and over again while attempting to stand on a foam surf board and so we took baby steps. First? We splashed around in the water and practiced catching waves like on a boogie board, spreading our arms like an airplane, and steering the board left and right. But then it was time to actually learn how to surf. It's definitely a skill that one has to develop. I took many impressive tumbles and Shane told me I might have a career as a knee-boarder! I did stand up for maybe a nanosecond, something I bragged about throughout the whole car ride home.

Although, I wasn't the most successful surfer and it was colder than cold, it was really a blast to get to know some Irish students, get out of Cork for a bit, and just play at the beach! When I got home late that afternoon exhaustion and cold took hold and I didn't leave my bed except to make the soup I had planned for the night before!

Despite being miserably cold and ingesting a serious amount of salt water, I enjoyed my first Surf Saturday enough to sign up again the next week, this time with my Swedish friend, Hannah. I knew it was going to be a good day when during the time we waited for the cars to load I had laughed more than I had all week. This week the lesson group was made up of different UCC students, one of which was named Ian who hails from Belgium. He's the kind of guy who laughs loudly at his own jokes, but his laugh is so great that it makes everyone else laugh too. Trying to be smart (at 8:30 am, never a good idea) the following embarrassing interaction occurred:

Ditzy American celebrating a successful day of surfing

A: "Oh, you're from Belgium? My roommate is Belgian!"
I: "Really? What language does she speak?"
A: (trying to sound smart) "Belgian...not Flemmish."
I: "Um. Neither of those are languages."
A: "Shit! I meant French, she speaks French. But I thought Flemmish was a language?"
I: "Actually it's a dialect and region. Good try though!"

I tried to laugh it off, claiming that my brain doesn't function in the AM, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. Flustered I tried to climb into the car and get a back seat so I wouldn't have to awkwardly sit shotgun

Silly surfers eating latte foam with their fingers!

The whole day lived up to every expectation. I stood up on my board multiple times (and each time for more than 5 seconds!), made some new friends, listened to bad music ("Whip My Hair" being the tune of choice) and laughed more than I thought would be possible under such harsh conditions! I spent the rest of the day thawing, but unlike the previous Saturday I rallied for a wild night out at Crane Lane.

Because the I couldn't imagine a third Saturday of waking up early to freeze my butt off, I took a two week long surfing hiatus to prepare myself mentally and physically for the big surf weekend trip to Dingle, but that adventure deserves a post of its own!

"Do you REALLY want me to explain what the shift is?" And other adventures from Halloween in Cork

Weather in Ireland (photos courtesy of Kate!)

If I thought Halloween was wild at the Claremont Colleges, it pales in comparison to the week of Halloween festivities at UCC. The week leading up to it was pretty average with the weekly taco Tuesday ritual, Glee watching, and worrying about what I would dress up as for the many nights of Halloween. I knew the weekend was going to be great craic when I headed out to Cork International Airport to pick up Ms. Kate!

Although a Thursday evening at the airport doesn't sound like the best way to spend the first night of the weekend, let me tell you it is just wonderful! The next time you just want to slap everyone around you for walking slowly/using the incorrect "there"/being rude/when you have lost complete faith in humanity just go to the arrivals gate at any airport. Watching people meet their friends and relatives at the airport is the most touching activity I can possibly imagine, like watching the happy ending of a romantic comedy over and over again.

At the Distillery

After 45 minutes of tearing up every time a plane arrived my little Kate turned the corner and our adventures began! We hopped into a cab, dropped her stuff at Vic Lodge, put together some impromptu lumberjack costumes, and headed into town because the Irish students usually go home over the weekend and I wanted Kate to get the real taste of Cork. But because it was Halloween it was the real taste of Cork covered in tabasco sauce and chili powder-just craziness to put it into non-food terms.

We got into town and met up with some Irish friends and wandered around trying to find a pub that didn't have a 30 minute wait to get in because just like in the United States Halloween costumes typically are not very warm! As we trudged through the mist we saw a couple people fall on the ground, one fight get broken up with one individual getting arrested, and hoards of students having entirely too much fun in mildly inappropriate clothes! It was an experience to say the least!

Proof that we are official taste-testers!

The next day we woke up late and explored Cork city. I didn't realize how much fun it would be to show someone around and explain all the boring things I do, like walking to school, for example. We walked through campus and headed to the city center for some English Marketing and lunch at the Wholly Grain. Very delicious. That evening we donned our costumes for an almost American-themed Halloween party at my neighbor's apartment. It might have been less extreme than Thursday, but was still a pretty good time.

On Saturday morning we headed off to fulfill our roles as tourists and took the train to the Jameson Distillery in Midleton. Midleton is a fairly unexciting town especially in the end of October. The Distillery tour guide, a very robotic woman with a mix between a French and Irish accent, taught us all about the history of Jameson and why it is just that much better than every other whiskey. The most exciting bit was that at the end 8 tour members volunteered to be whiskey taste-testers and put our new knowledge to the test. Kate and I sat at the tester table and made smalltalk with the rather eclectic group of volunteers. Jameson definitely tasted the best out of the three, but I still don't understand how people drink it straight!

Ninjas eating Tasty Kebab

From Jameson we stopped in at this little Italian restaurant where we ate a very delicious meal before boarding the train home with everyone from our tour. Awkward stuff. Apparently our new found friendships were limited to the Distillery. At home we crafted another Halloween costume, this time we were ninjas in all black with black pantyhose headbands. Not my best work, but pretty good under the circumstances! In town we went to the Bailey and finished up the night at Tasty Kebab. Seriously yum.

Sunday we woke up exhausted, but rallied and went up to Tesco because that afternoon was my mom style Halloween party! We spent the afternoon slaving over cookies, cider, frosting, and getting the place ready to go. It turned out to be quite a good time with about 15 girls coming over, some of which brought food too, so we had quite the feast! With our bellies full and exhausted from playing hostess, we cleaned up and watched Spiderman on TV.

The next morning I had to say goodbye to my little Kate and head off to nutrition class. Overall, we did Halloween in style!

The essence of a Swedish dinner

"Abby. Abby. Can I call you Abbs?" 10/18-10/25

The next day marked the first day of the world famous Cork Jazz Festival. That day my friend Kristen came over and we poured over the pamphlet and schedule decided which acts we would make our priority. Tonight's act was Pete Molinari and Band at the Crane Lane. We decided on Molinari solely because I love the atmosphere at Crane Lane, but little did we know that we would soon be on a first name basis with the entire band. 

  

I knew it was going to be a good night when on our way to Crane Lane we walked by a stand giving away free coffee and tea, which made the cold walk a little bit more bearable. Unfortunately we are very naive and tried to bring our tea into the pub. What a dumb thing to do. Since when have you ever been able to bring any liquid into any venue. From Subway to airplanes, movie theaters to pubs, it just isn't allowed. The bouncer was nice enough and chatted with us about the United States as we sipped on our tea.  

Pete Molinari on stage

Once inside the pub we wandered through the rooms until we located the stage where we posted up at 9:25 for a show that was listed as starting at 9:30. Newbie mistake number 2. When has a concert ever started at the time listed? Never. We small talked and people watched while we waited for the show taking particular interest in a small man wearing Beetlejuice looking pants, Austin Powers shoes with a heel, a striped blazer with a polka-dot tie, and a velvet fedora. "Who let him leave the house like that?" We joked. Meanwhile a man in an equally silly outfit (although more rockabilly and thus in style) took the stage and tuned every single guitar only the leave the stage when he was done. "He couldn't be a roadie, could he?" "I thought roadies wore black." "Maybe he just really likes to tune guitars." 

Our mean spirited conversation was cut short when the small man in stripes took the stage and said over the microphone, "If my band is somewhere around here, could they please come on stage." The two men we had just been mocking were the lead singer and lead guitarist of the band we had come to see. Just another example of how people in bands can be utterly ridiculous in the real world, but once they go on stage transform into the coolest people alive. 

Biggest fans

The concert started and Kristen and I ended up in the front row. The music reminded me of a mix of Bob Dylan, the Beatles, and Elvis Presley, and I was loving it! Kristen and I danced the evening away making eye-contact with the band and making what would eventually be inside jokes. After the show we hung around so we could get a picture with the band because we were obviously the greatest members of the crowd and their new big fans! The crowd rushed in on them as they came off stage to congratulate and flash their cameras so we waited patiently.  

Once the crowds had cleared, Pete came up to us, followed by the band. We introduced ourselves, took a picture, and congratulated them on a wonderful show. After a while of talking a DJ came on and we all started dancing only to be harassed by some drunk fan so we went outside  to the smoking area (which technically is still inside the pub, but is more like a patio) with our band-bought Guinnesses. Here Pete turned to me and said, "Abby. Abby. Can I call you Abs?" Who was I to say no? When a rock star gives you a nick-name you accept it with grace. 

We stayed on the patio laughing, talking with fans, and speaking Spanish with the Italian group until 2:30 when the pub closed. From here we travelled to the main street and danced to a musician playing Louis Armstrong. Eventually we parted ways with the band promising to get together on Sunday when they stopped back into Cork before heading back to England or at least in touch via email. 

  

The next morning was spent in the city center getting coffee with the band manager (who the heck am I, I know! Since when do I get coffee with band managers!?), shopping for another pair of comfortable and cheap shoes, and then heading to a concert in the park. The band this time was a bunch of middle aged men who had given their band name a bad pun. The audience at this show consisted of little kids and their parents, so it was much more low key. That didn't stop us from getting attention from the band who, in between songs, looked at us and said, "Ladies, you can't enjoy the show and not buy a CD." Which was followed by, "Yeah, there's no such thing as a free lunch!" No matter where we go, the band just loves us. 

Enjoying the concert in the park

From the show we headed into the city center to the Franciscan Well, a pub well-known for their local brews and their Oktoberfest! We arrived around 6:30 hoping to enjoy some free barbecue and a pint of foreign ale only to be so overwhelmed by the masses of 30 somethings that had too much to drink! We were hardly even able to complete a lap around the place before getting so overwhelmed we had to leave. So where did we go? A restaurant called "Captain America's!" It's sort of like Red Robin, only much tastier. I had an order of chicken fajitas and they were delicious! You can take the girl out of California, but you can't take the California out of the girl. 

Full of tasty food we headed over to watch a duo that performed jazz electronica at a club called Bodega. The club is incredibly cool inside and is sort of a mix between a warehouse, a fancy bar in NYC, and Urban Outfitters. It's hip, to say the least and was the perfect venue to see Goldfish, a DJ duo that mix DJing with live improvisation, one member plays the stand up bass while the other plays the flute and saxophone. You wouldn't expect that these two from a tiny town in South Africa would make such great jazz! My friend Jessie and I grooved our way to the front and had we wanted, we could have reached out a done a little DJing ourselves. After one particularly great song we let out a "woo hoo" causing one of he members of Goldfish to look at us a give us a big smile. I don't know what it was about this weekend, but I've never gotten so many smiles from members of bands! 

Enjoying Gulden Draak at the Franciscan Well

The next day was fairly tame and pretty much jazz-free, except for the unexpected call from Pete Molinari. After a quick chat with Pete and the lads explaining that Kristen and I were too tired for dinner I  went into town with a friend of mine and tried our odds at the Franciscan Well once more. Being a Sunday evening the Well was much less intimidating although still pretty crowded because the next day was a bank holiday! Since I am not so much a beer connoisseur I took recommendations from my friends and the bartenders and ordered a pint of Gulden Draak, which according to the menu "balances a natural malt toffee-like sweetness with some hoppy accents. The aroma is round, sweet and reveals the 10.5 alcohol by volume." Basically, all I understand from that is that one pint=4 standard drinks and that it is a drink that is meant to be slowly!

Not having school on Monday was really a treat! I just lay in bed all day watching TV, planning my Halloween costume, and preparing for the week to come!

"It's called brown sauce because it is brown." 10/18-10/21

First I want to apologize for the lack of pictures in this post. I won't be offended if no one reads it! Even I didn't want to reread it. 

But, let me say, what a crazy end to an incredibly tame week! I spent most of it lounging around the house complaining about my sore throat and making myself soup. In my defense, it was a pretty bad sore throat! On Tuesday I had my second lesson with Connie, which went pretty well considering the amount of time I spent practicing fiddle, don't worry, Mom, my practicing has increased! That evening a bunch of girls and I went out because Ruby's sister was visiting all the way from Iowa! We went to the Old Oak, which is a pretty low key tame pub catering towards clientele aged 35 and above. The band playing that evening performed all of my favorite bad music. In the middle of one number I noticed a poster for a band called "Dead Cat Bounce" that was playing the next night. What a horrible band name, I thought to myself realizing that I had told a friend of mine that I would go see his cousin's band with him the next night at the Old Oak. Instantly the name grew on me and naturally I took the poster off the wall as a souvenir! 

Dead Cat Bounce is a comedy rock band that plays a fun mix of weird music they wrote about rugby being an invention for the closet homosexuals or how mustaches die when you shave and a sort of mash up a la Girl Talk (only with a life band). The concert proved to be quite fun and well worth the freezing walk down into town.  We stuck around to congratulate the band and that's when the first of two band members who would buy me a drink this week bought me a drink. Go me! After sipping on my Carlsberg we all headed over to the Brogue for some "Twist and Shout" and then to Tasty Kebab for the usual midnight snack, this time it was a chicken sandwich though I really prefer the doner kebab! 

Thursday proved to be the exciting day of celebration to start to my weekend! First, my 10:00 nutrition course had been cancelled, second it was my last immunology lecture! That means no more thinking I have every single possible disease on the face of the planet (commonly referred to as Medschoolitis) and no more stodgy old men talking down to me while simultaneously failing to properly execute a PowerPoint presentation. 

To begin the celebrations I turned on the heat in my room for the first time and took a nap in my sauna waking up just in time for Swedish dinner! Ruby and I had met two Swedish girls on our trip to the Ring of Kerry and we had made plans to have each other over to eat our native dishes!  Because they are Swedish they got on the ball and made it happen. At 8:00 (a very Swedish time to eat!) my neighbors Ian and Mikael (also Swedish) walked down through town to their apartment on the way I stopped at "Fine Wines" to buy a 6 euro bottle of Californian wine to give the hostesses! 

The Swedes' apartment is right in the middle of the city center and is cute as can be. When we got there ABBA was blasting and two giant pans of meatballs were frying-it was definitely going to be a good night. We all chatted about music, American culture vs. Swedish culture, and school while putting the finishing touches on dinner. Before the appetizers the Swedes convinced Ian and me to try some Swedish candy. It's so funny to walk around Stockholm because literally everywhere you go there's candy. Adults buy the daily paper at a stand in the subway along with a couple pieces of gummy candies. The candies they encouraged us to try were absolutely the worst candy I had ever eaten! The first was a chalky version of a Tootsie Roll and the second was a piece of black licorice covered in salt. It was hard to control my reaction, but the Swedes just laughed it off. "Different than American candy, hm?" They said as they popped another couple salt balls into their mouths. After the candy experiences, I was nervous for the actual meal, it all looked so good, but so did the candy!

To start we ate hard-boiled eggs with caviar from a tube (a common Swedish thing. It's funny such composed people LOVE caviar from what looks like a tube of L'Occitane lotion). Once I got past the caviar in a tube concept I really enjoyed the tasty combination of salt and warm egg. Now this was more what I had in mind! Once the eggs were polished off my friend Hanna raised her glass and said "Bifallsrop," Swedish for cheers! I picked up my wine glass and she looked at me and laughed. "No, no, no! You must cheers with the vodka!" I had been so engrossed in my hors d'oeuvres eating that I had failed to notice my own tumbler full of the nasty smelling clear liquid called vodka. 'Oy vey,' I thought to myself, 'I have to participate in all the cultural traditions!  No excuses, Jones.' 

Mikael pointed out that there's always one person who decides to cheers every five minutes. During this meal it was Hanna, she worked like clockwork. 

lingonberry sauce. Basically, Swedish meatballs are like their version of Thanksgiving complete with gravy (brown sauce made from the grease of the meatballs) and cranberry sauce (lingonberry sauce in this case).

 

The meal was absolutely delicious and in the presence of my hip European friends I actually took the time to enjoy it, instead of doing my usual Scooby Doo shove and swallow. When I was in Sweden I had noticed how Swedish people never really put down their fork and knife and that they use both utensils to delicately eat every bite, scraping the food onto the fork with their knife. Meanwhile the two Americans at the table are using their fork to cut and shovel and their fingers to ensure the bite makes it safely on the prongs. We're really gross eaters. 

After a hearty serving of seconds it was time for dessert. Unlike the salty candies that had preceded the meal, dessert was a familiar favorite--brownies. According to Hanna, it's more like cake than brownies, but regardless it was tasty! On top we put berries, vanilla ice cream, and whipped cream. After we ere too full to enjoy any more we sat around and talked about the Swedish royal family and some common Swedish phrases before doing the dishes. Luckily they have a dish washer, so getting very plate cleaned didn't take too long and before we knew it we were off to the Brogue to meet up with some friends, dance around, and get lots of beer spilled on me due to the abundance of drunk American and Irish boys. Seriously, why try to dance with a full beer? It's never a good idea, ever.

"If the wind won't blow, the boat won't go!" 10/11-10/17

You can imagine that after a mentally and physically exhausting Adventure Weekend I was even less prepared for the upcoming school week. It's funny how every "study abroad orientation" I've been to, whether at Scripps or here at UCC, they talk about the disintegration period when you really get homesick and start wondering, "what the hell am I doing here?" Well, I hate to be a Debbie Downer, but that was this week for me. Meeting all the other study abroad students and seeing how tight their group was in combination with the growing anxiety that I wasn't taking full advantage of my time here in Ireland put a dark Charlie Brown cloud over my head.
  

On my walk to the music building!

The week started off with an unproductive study session in the library interrupted by an awkward lunch. One thing I've really be working on in the past few weeks has been NOT over analyzing everything, something I definitely have a tendency to do! After forcing myself to study for a couple hours I walked with my friend Kristen to our Introduction to Irish Traditional Music class, which may be the easiest and most boring class I have ever taken. The teacher is very knowledgeable and adorable, but she teaches the class as though we are all music majors giving us too much detail about individual instruments and not enough historical information. On our walk to class we talked about everything that had been going through our heads and both realized that we were worried about the same things; about not experiencing enough "Irishness," spending too much money, and our general health! It was a major relief to hear someone else say the same things that had been going through my head all weekend! From music class we went to the Mardkye Arena (the gym), got our BLT tickets, and studied (probably the most productive 45 minutes of my day!)

Cobh

The next morning I woke up way too early and made the 30 minute trek up to the UCC Music building for my first fiddle lesson! The UCC Music Building is an absolutely gorgeous stone Church wing with views of almost all of Cork, so it's worth the dog poop ridden walk. Seriously, Ireland has a major dog poop problem. My instructor's name is Connie O'Connell. He, yes he, is a little old man who is almost impossible to understand and very intimidating at first. My lesson mate is a German boy named Philip with sweaty hands, poorly executed facial hair, and a heart of gold.  The lesson is run in a way that is completely foreign from my extremely structured Suzuki days. First of all there's no sheet music, Connie just plays something and then you repeat it and when you do you struggle along until he says, "No, listen again." Eventually when you get it right and successfully play it all the way through instead of a pat on the back or a high five Connie simply says, "Alright, now do it again." This drill down continues until finally it is Philip's turn. I don't think Connie (or I) realized how stressful and overwhelming it was playing the very first note after 7+ years of never playing. It was like how each summer I would convince myself that I would start playing again only to find something holding me back. Leave it to Connie O'Connell to push me past my comfort zone! 

Saint Coleman Cathedral

I was flying high after my lesson because it had been a lot less scary and a lot easier than I expected to pick up the violin again only to be brought back down to earth upon realizing that I had my archeology final in 2 hours! The test itself went as most final exams do, I could have done better but also could have done worse. The major difference about this test was that instead of being in our normal classroom it was held in the Aula Maxima, yeah, pretty important sounding. In order to be admitted into the test I had to print off a test ticket with my name and seat assignment beforehand and had to bring proper UCC ID, kind of like flying on an airplane! The Aula Maxima smells like old wood and looks like it belongs in Harry Potter. The walls are lined with books and paintings, the room is dark, there's a large fireplace that you could imagine heating up a cauldron, and at the head of the room the wall is dedicated to past headmasters, surprisingly Dumbledore's moving painting was not up there. 

Even though my hand was hurting, it was such a relief to be officially done with archeology! After the test I was planning on going out to celebrate, but everyone was pretty tired from the test prep so I stayed in and enjoyed taco Tuesday while watching Survivor.  

The next day I woke up revitalized and with a new lease on life. I went to my lecture, the gym, and came home to make a can of soup for my friend Roger who had caught the month-into-school cold--all before 1:00! The afternoon was spent shopping at H&M, catching up on the blog, and requesting my ballot so I could vote abroad.  

The rest of the school week went by without much excitement. Friday I went to a music concert in the Aula MaximaGlee world complete with hand motions. I love me some Gaga, but this song choice could not have been more out of place in the Aula Maxima with an audience with the average age of 45. 

After the concert Ruby and I headed downtown for some shopping (her, not me, don't worry!) and a dinner out at the only Thai restaurant in Cork. Full of tasty food we headed home and caught up on the real Glee. A wild Friday night, I know! 

Saturday I woke up feeling like maybe I too had caught the month-into-school cold, but decided not to let it get me down because Ruby and I had made big plans for the day! At 9:00 am (yeah, on a Saturday!) we met up with our friend from our trip to Kerry at the train station and bought a train ticket to Cobh. Cobh is the largest of three Islands in the Cork Harbor (the second largest natural harbor in the world!) so the beautiful views made the train ride go by quickly. I kind of felt like I was in a scene from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, only without the whole mind-washing, memory erasing bit. 

Our first stop in Cobh (pronounced Cove) was the heritage center, which is right next to the train station! Because Cobh is a huge port city it was the site of many boats full of poor and starving Irish men and women looking for a better life in the good ol' USA  especially during the Potato Famine. The museum/heritage center was really interesting and talked a lot about the conditions of the boats full of immigrants. This of course, makes it a huge tourist attraction and probably the only building that is at all times almost completely occupied by Americans. Although Cobh is beautiful, the port has a sad association with two ship disasters. In 1915 a German submarine sunk the Lusitania  eleven miles off the coast of Ireland killing 1,198 of the 1,959 people aboard. Cobh also was the last point of call for the Titanic a ship that "took 1000 Irishmen to make and only one Brit to sink." 

After wandering through the heritage center and enjoying a scone we decided to take in the gorgeous day and wander around the town. This town was just made to be put on a postcard with brightly colored houses lining the street next to port. To be honest, it looked a little like Maine, only with really Irish houses! At the top of a hill is the town Cathedral called Saint Coleman's, which apparently has a carillon of 47 bells. Way to go, Saint Coleman! From the church we bought some fudge from a duo of South Africans and then headed out for some lunch at a restaurant so hip it could have been in NYC. 

Rejuvenated after some fish and chips we got back on the train and headed to Fota Wildlife Park. The excitement on the train was palpable due to our own excitement and the excitement of the 6th birthday party next to us! Fota on a Saturday afternoon probably wasn't the best decision, but made for great entertainment-when the monkeys were hiding in their houses there were bound to be Irish children running around acting like monkeys too! 

The park is really impressive and boasts creatures like giraffes, cheetahs, lemurs, bison, and kangaroos! They even have a cheetah run everyday at 4 where they attach a dead rabbit to a series of wires and then get the old cheetahs to chase after it. Just like playing with your cat at home! 

Fota was exhausting so afterward we headed home and I had every intention of snuggling in my bed with a warm cup of tea and a couple episodes of Modern Family,  but that didn't happen! It was my friend's birthday, so around 9 Ruby and I headed down there to help her celebrate turning 20. It wasn't too wild of night because it's the weekend and only adults go out on the weekend in Ireland, but still wasn't as restful as it could have been!