I have been on a posting binge lately, but most of it has been political or self aggrandizing. Sometimes I lie in bed at night and think about my posts and wonder why I wrote it. I’ve even crawled out of bed in the middle of the night to edit them. But after time goes by and I reread them and realize they are self aggrandizing, I won’t delete them or edit them because that is not my point here. Well it might be my point because I've deleted the entire blog and started over two or three times and will probably do it again. The list of months over there on the right is getting a little long.
I haven’t been posting much about Ireland recently because there isn’t that much new to post on. I get into a rhythm very easily. After about two weeks here I was completely comfortable and just going through the motions. Frankly, the most stressful thing I’ve experienced was trying to find my classes. Well, trying to find where I live was pretty stressful too. But now that I have all that down and I walk the same way everyday, I just live my life and do the same sort of stuff I always do when I have occasion. I fry egg sandwiches with basil and cheese all the time, cook other basic meals for dinner, and read the news and political pundits everyday. I check my email, blog, and Facebook everyday and chat on AIM, MSN, or Yahoo with friends. I listen to the same 16,739 songs that I do in Montana. Hell, I even drink MGD when I feel like treating myself to an expensive beer.
There are the rare moments when I am walking to class or back from the pub and I stop to admire some interesting observation. I enjoy the wind whipping rain against my face and admire the Irish climate and the Gulf Stream that provides it. I stop and look at the 200 year old main quad and then turn around and see the four or five year old glass and steel building. I watch in amazement as an old Irish guy orders a Budweiser at the pub. I love to stop when I cross the river and look down and wonder how clean it is and if people ever float it or swim in it like we do in Montana. I repeat words to myself that I hear spoken in thick Irish accents, in a futile imitation effort.
I miss my friends, but I never get lonely. I want to see my family and Montana, but I know that time passes too quickly. I worry about my finances, but brush it aside with a thought like, “it’s just money.”