Catching Up

So my evil academic project is done, pause for a moment of celebration. This means that I actually have time now to update my blog. I really am sorry it has been so lax as of late but trust me, I had a lot of stuff going on that needed to be attended to especially considering how long my entries usually are (boring I know). I didn't want to half ass my entries and so I haven't had any. But enough dwelling on my tardiness, time to start the catch up.

I am not really going to bother a whole lot with work the week after I got back from my solo holiday. The only noteworthy event was me calling numerous prop hire companies trying to get as many fridges (yes, like refrigerators) as humanly possible. This was mostly noteworthy because as anyone who knows me can attest, I usually go into a panic at the thought of calling people I don't know. However, this was incredibly easy and even somewhat fun. My favorite moment was the following dialogue between me and one prop hire man:

Man: You're from Dallas?
Me: Um, no.
Man: Then where are you from?
Me: Indiana.
Man: That's the same thing. It's all cowboy country.
Me: Not really.

Other than that, typical BAC and I still want to kill the children. Class was about class (haha) in Britain. We learned that class doesn't matter but it does. Seriously. We also got to take a test to determine our class. Seriously. We were also told that you can go up to anyone in the UK and ask them about their class. My co-workers were appalled when I asked them if it was true. Way to go Arcadia, way to go.

Friday June 26th right from work I left for Dublin to visit one of my best friends from high school. Her name is Sarah but from here on out she shall be known as Skip since that is the unfortunate nickname our Honors English 9 teacher gave her to distinguish from the two other Sarahs in the class and somehow it stuck. She is also interning though at a law firm because she is hardcore like that.

The trip went easy enough at first. I got to the train station just down the hill from BAC no problem and after just a momentary confusion about how to get collect my tickets from the machine, I had time to browse the shops before going to my platform. I found US Weekly which brought on joy not seen since the Britney-K. Fed divorce announcement. I also got 50p off the magazine for taking the MJ memorial newspaper. Whatever, 50p is 50p. Gatwick was the second stop on the line so the ride was easy and quick.

A few words about the inefficiency of Ryanair/Gatwick Airport. My online check-in boarding pass said I had to get it stamped to prove I had all the necessary visa/passport requirements. This meant I still had to wait in this enormously long line at the Ryanair desk in the terminal with all the people who needed to check bags. Why there wasn't a special express line for visa check I have no idea but I got fairly irritated as I saw all benefit to online-check in slip away. Finally, when I got to security, I noticed no one was taking off their shoes so I just assumed for some reason you didn't have to. Wrong. There was a second metal detector for shoes after you went through the first one and thought you were going to be allowed to exit. Why they couldn't just have you put your shoes on the first belt with everything else, again I don't know.

My flight was delayed by 30 minutes which turned out to be good because it allowed me to find a Pret A Manger and get some dinner before boarding. For those of you who don't know, Pret is a somewhat upscale (by that I mean expensive) sandwich and coffee chain that is as omnipresent in London and the UK as Starbucks in America. I got the cheapie ham & cheese toastie and my new obsession, salt & vinegar potato chips. I got on the flight no problem, got a window seat, and only had one other person in my three seat row. All in all, a success despite the garish yellow decor of the plane interior.

Here is where the story gets really interesting. I had Skip's roommate's phone number, the address for her apartment complex, plus the various codes to get to her room if all else failed. I got into a taxi since it was too late for the bus to be running and handed him the address I had written down. He seemed confused so I tried to call Skip but it told me I didn't have the authorization to call the number. Great. The taxi driver gets me to the correct road and drops me off outside of what he claims are the only apartments on the street so they must be the right place. Greater. He drives off and I almost immediately come to the realization that I left my phone in the backseat. Greatest. There I am at 11 at night in Dublin without any means of communication and no idea where I was. I refused to panic though and found a pay phone to try and call the number again. The phone eats my money. Ok, still not panicking. He got me to the right road so I just have to pick a direction and start walking. I do and find a student apartment complex called Shanowen House. Not Shanowen Square like Skip said but I try the entry code anyway. The door opens though begrudgingly. It immediately becomes apparent to me I am in the wrong place since all the windows are open, thus allowing anyone to enter, and no lights are on. Hey, at least I could sneak in and sleep there if nothing else. I do however notice a great deal more activity from the apartments next door. Lo and behold, it's Shanowen Square and I find Skip's apartment with no more difficulty. She is thrilled to see that I am ok since when I didn't ever call her she got really freaked. It was a great moment of my life being safe with her.

We talked, catching up and laughing, for a few hours before finally becoming too tired to go anymore. I took her extra pillow out to the loveseat in her combined living room/kitchen and made myself an L-shaped bed with the aid of a chair. I was just laying down when in burst her extremely drunk roommates accompanied by friends. Immediately, they start screaming "WHERE'S CATY?!". Apparently, my coming was a highly anticipated event.I doubt in my exhausted condition and dying-my-hair pajamas shirt I lived up to the hype. I relocated to Skip's room to sleep on her folded comforter while the drunkies desecrated the living room/kitchen.

The rest of my Dublin story will follow in the next entry. Don't want to overwhelm you guys too much. The photos that go with this entry are meant to illustrate Shanowen Square where I spent two out of my three nights in Dublin.