a. Seven trainees and counting in the space of three weeks. Plus national conference. Starting to get busy up in here.
b. Someone moved into my dream office two floors below. I suppose this means that I'll have to find a dream office [and business to go into said office] in some other part of the world. Bummer. New people seem nice though [with really nice, new swivel chairs--y'know, while I gaze sadly at my hard-plastic chair and decide the floor is more comfortable].
c. Wednesdays are my favourite to work at the pub. Glitz. Gay night makes me miss home most though, that's the only rub. It's the happiest night of the week, no doubt. Lots of kisses on the cheek, being called chicken, tall drag queens that you wouldn't want to fuck with, tons of young boys dancing around and embracing their painful skinniness. Drunks are a little bit nicer on Tuesdays than any other day of the week, a bit more considerate.
Last night, while showing the new guy where we get the brooms from at the end of the night, a merry drunk did a little dance on the steps while I waited for him to pass. He told me that he was just kidding, just dancing. I said to him that I was aware, but figured I'd let him pass first since he was the one who was drunk, not me. He then told me, two things: 1. I'm not gay. 2. You have a pretty smile.
So, I suppose that means any dental work was not a failure.
d. Today is beautiful. The few leaves that are actually in this town were falling around everywhere. It reminds me a lot of a football Saturday, which is often the problem with nice weather as of late. To boot, I even passed a guy wearing a Michigan sweatshirt while walking Lower Abbey Street.
I feel like it'd be a lot easier to be here as of late if there weren't so many things reminding me of home. Next time, I'll move somewhere that doesn't have such a love affair with the United States. Of course, "American culture" is spreading rapidly, but Ireland is just such an extreme case.
Just the other day, I had a chat with one of the bouncers about getting married so he could have my American citizenship and I could get the EU citizenship that I so covet.
e. I have discovered a great new used bookstore. It's near work--across the street from the international food market with "mexican" food. The used books part of the store has that perfect book smell to it. Maybe I'll miss the Dawn Treader a teensy bit less, but I doubt it.
It will cost me upwards of 26 Euro for a copy of The Giving Tree and something like nine for a copy of The Phantom Tollbooth. Not too bad. But I think I may just wait til I'm home and will grab a used copy of each then.
f. Speaking of food, this is what I miss: Big Ten burritos, sangria that tastes mysteriously of Mad Dog from Dominic's, TK Wu, proper deep dish & Chicago-style pizza, Jimmy John's, hummous, cheap food in general.
b. Someone moved into my dream office two floors below. I suppose this means that I'll have to find a dream office [and business to go into said office] in some other part of the world. Bummer. New people seem nice though [with really nice, new swivel chairs--y'know, while I gaze sadly at my hard-plastic chair and decide the floor is more comfortable].
c. Wednesdays are my favourite to work at the pub. Glitz. Gay night makes me miss home most though, that's the only rub. It's the happiest night of the week, no doubt. Lots of kisses on the cheek, being called chicken, tall drag queens that you wouldn't want to fuck with, tons of young boys dancing around and embracing their painful skinniness. Drunks are a little bit nicer on Tuesdays than any other day of the week, a bit more considerate.
Last night, while showing the new guy where we get the brooms from at the end of the night, a merry drunk did a little dance on the steps while I waited for him to pass. He told me that he was just kidding, just dancing. I said to him that I was aware, but figured I'd let him pass first since he was the one who was drunk, not me. He then told me, two things: 1. I'm not gay. 2. You have a pretty smile.
So, I suppose that means any dental work was not a failure.
d. Today is beautiful. The few leaves that are actually in this town were falling around everywhere. It reminds me a lot of a football Saturday, which is often the problem with nice weather as of late. To boot, I even passed a guy wearing a Michigan sweatshirt while walking Lower Abbey Street.
I feel like it'd be a lot easier to be here as of late if there weren't so many things reminding me of home. Next time, I'll move somewhere that doesn't have such a love affair with the United States. Of course, "American culture" is spreading rapidly, but Ireland is just such an extreme case.
Just the other day, I had a chat with one of the bouncers about getting married so he could have my American citizenship and I could get the EU citizenship that I so covet.
e. I have discovered a great new used bookstore. It's near work--across the street from the international food market with "mexican" food. The used books part of the store has that perfect book smell to it. Maybe I'll miss the Dawn Treader a teensy bit less, but I doubt it.
It will cost me upwards of 26 Euro for a copy of The Giving Tree and something like nine for a copy of The Phantom Tollbooth. Not too bad. But I think I may just wait til I'm home and will grab a used copy of each then.
f. Speaking of food, this is what I miss: Big Ten burritos, sangria that tastes mysteriously of Mad Dog from Dominic's, TK Wu, proper deep dish & Chicago-style pizza, Jimmy John's, hummous, cheap food in general.
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