Greener Pastures

The Petulant CryBaby Club

2006-07-03T21:14:00.000Z

I'm no fan of Christiano Ronaldo, but I am even less of a fan of Wayne Rooney and the entire English squad.

Maybe it's because I live in Ireland and therefore get innundated with the English media. I know the starting lineup of the English soccer team, and all their wives and girlfriends, which the tabloids affectionately term the WAGs. If England won it would be insufferable. Further, I just don't like the players, they are real rough lager lout types. Shreck, oops I mean Rooney, is a complete yob.

I've come to the conclusion that the English soccer team is the Toronto Maple Leafs of international football. They haven't won since the sixties, and there is no shortage of people who can tell you all about those heady, glory days of 1966. Which is incidentally before I was born. In the past few international tournaments, they have put out a middling team, due to a coach and management who refuse to make tough decisions when it comes to the roster, but yet everyone in the country is convinced that they will win the Cup because it is their destiny.

England finally made their World Cup 2006 exit on Saturday in typical controversial fashion. The English fans are proving just how blindly subjective they really are. I have heard the following ad nauseum:

They lost because the Portuguese are cheating divers and England refuses to stoop to that level. They don't dive, they play fair, and it's really not too much to ask that the ref abide by the rules of fair play.
The ref is Argentinian, and therefore wanted England to lose (Hand of God Part II or revenge for the Falklands War, you choose the conspiracy theory).
Ronaldo discussed tactics with Scolari to get Rooney kicked out of the game. The wink he made towards the Portuguese bench when the red card was shown proved this.
The ref deliberately did not call a hand ball in the penalty area so that Portugal could win.

The English need to get over this by accepting the following facts:

The English team was not that good. They were not looking stellar at any point in the tournament, and had they been in a tougher group, they would have struggled to get out of the group stage. Would they have beated Mexico in the second round like Argentina did? Would they have beaten Holland or Australia?
Riling Looney Rooney up is like shooting fish in a barrel. If he wants to be a great player, he needs to learn to keep his head. As it is, he's a liability. He did stomp on the Portuguese player, and then pushed Ronaldo in front of the ref. He is the dumbest football player out there, and that's saying a lot. A great player keeps his cool and can get past the goading and the psychological games. If Ronaldo did discuss ways to get Rooney out of the game with his coach, well that's not hard first of all, and second of all, unsettling your opponents is part of the game. If Rooney is too stupid and falls for it every time, then maybe, just maybe, he should go back to his anger management classes.
Anyone who says that the Brits never dive have never seen Joe Cole or Michael Owen play.
David Beckham deliberately flipped the ball at the Portuguese defender's arm to draw a penalty. Sorry, what was that about never cheating?
Diving hasn't been exclusive to the Portuguese, Italian, Argentinian or Spanish team. Michael Ballack has made a few meals out of minor knocks throughout the tournament. EVERY TEAM is guilty of diving or making more out of a fall in order to draw a free kick.
The English team sucks at penalty kicks. Or as one journalist put it, they took penalty kicks with the skill of a bunch of eight-year olds.
Lampard couldn't hit an empty net at two yards out.
The only English player that really excelled in the quarterfinal match was the Canadian that the British fans boo whenever he enters the stadium. He was the only one who scored a penalty kick too. On Canada Day.
Just because it was an Argentinian ref does not mean it was Hand of God Part II. This wasn't a conspiracy. England just didn't win, and if they did, there is no way they would make it out of the semis. They just weren't going to win the cup, and we all need to accept this and move on.

Portugal wasn't stellar either, but they won in the end - without their main playmaker, Deco. They were also really beaten down from their slugfest against Holland. They kept it together just enough to pull through. Portugal is not the cleanest of teams, I'll admit, but it wasn't enough to make England lose. England just did not have enough in them to win.

900 pubs and nowhere to go

2006-04-09T18:02:00.000Z

Ok, so I hate going out in Dublin. It's only the feeling every couple of weeks that I really should be sociable that gets me out of the apartment. If I had more reclusive tendencies, I just wouldn't bother at all.

So last night, I went out to dinner with a couple of friends. We hadn't made reservations, and every place was completely packed. Yes, you need to make reservations to go out in Dublin, which annoys me to no end. I'm supposed to decide what I feel like eating six days in advance??? We ended up at "Gruel", which is a funky restaurant with good food. This restaurant is an anomoly in Dublin - it serves breakfast until late in the day on weekends, and has french toast with real maple syrup, and the bread is not crap Wonder Bread. We got a seat downstairs on the couch in the corner, which was perfect. The only thing was that a rugby team was in the small room as well, so it started to get really loud after awhile.

I was perfectly content to stay there despite the rugby team, but I could tell my friends wanted to move on. I didn't want to, I knew what was out there - completely nothing! 900 pubs in Dublin and nowhere decent to go - especially on a Saturday night.

So off we went. I had already decided that I wasn't drinking because I had to do some work today. We went into one bar, "The Bank", that I like to go to in late afternoon if I'm meeting people. They have good drinks. My friend suggested it because she thought I would agree, but I didn't. I knew it would be really loud and obnoxious at this time of night. Thing is, I couldn't think of any place else to go.

In Dublin there are really a few categories of bars:
Old Man Pubs
Tosser bars (majority)
Yuppie bars - expensive and full of tossers
Wine bars - good wine, zero ambience - except for one but I can't get anyone to go there because they don't even sell bottled Perroni, just wine
Hotel bars - comfy seats, good atmosphere - though called inauthentic by my friends (they want authentic too?? have to go to another city for that), great drinks - very expensive
Tourist bars - to be avoided at all costs

Old man pubs themselves fall into two categories. Ones where women are really not welcome, no matter what the law says on the matter, and those where a woman can go without being subtly told to go somewhere else (no really, I'm not exaggerating). Old man pubs are the best for being able to get a seat and holding a conversation. However, there is nothing to drink at all.

I don't drink beer anymore. The draught beer in Ireland (and the UK for that matter) makes me sick, literally. It's the chemicals and preservatives that they put into the systems, I get physically ill after two pints. I can drink beer in Canada no problem, and I can drink bottled imports. In an Old Man Pub, there is draught beer, which I can't have; Guinness, which I only want in the afternoon - it's just too filling to have at night; bottled beer - Budweiser, Miller Genuine Draft, or Corona without lime. These bars never have lemons or limes. They also don't have a better selection of bottled beer - no Budvar, no Grolsch, no Tiger. I don't drink Budweiser at home, I'm sure as hell not drinking it here. The wine they serve is the worst kind of Chateau Plonk. Beware wine that comes in a quarter bottle - no matter what kind of bar you're in. It's all bad news. And as for hard liquor, ever hear of Cork Dry Gin or Huzzar Vodka? No? Well there is a reason for that. The Irish aren't particularly choosy drinkers, whereas a bar in Canada wouldn't be able to sell anything less than Beefeater or Smirnoff. In fact, Cork Dry Gin smells like chocolate. I kid you not! Though that may just be a symptom of an impending stroke or aneurysm from ingesting radically foreign chemicals into the body, and causing a radical potassium imbalance.

I should add that to order a sparkling water or soft drink will cost you about EUR2.50 for about 200ml. A pint of Guinness is around EUR4.00.

Ok, so to summarise Old Man Pub (where women can go) = good conversation, nothing to drink

So where else? There are very few bars in Dublin where you can have a good drink, get a seat (I hate standing for long periods of time and even more - I hate being jostled every two seconds as people walk back and forth), and carry a conversation on a weekend night - and is not full of tossers. Though to be honest, at this point, I would be happy with getting a seat, a nice cocktail and able to hold a conversation. I think the tosser aspect is inevitable in Dublin.

But while we're on the subject. There is an unbelievable number of tossers in Dublin. When I go out, sometimes I like dressing up, but usually I wear jeans. No matter what, I'm always underdressed here, and I certainly am wearing the least amount of makeup. Take "The Bank", the bar we were at last night. We were standing being jostled while sipping the world's heaviest Merlot (and we have all seen Sideways, or should have, so why are bars still even carrying this grape?) I was the most dressed up in the group, wearing a jean skirt, knee-high boots, and a wrap sweater. I was seriously out-dressed by the women at this bar. If I were to start looking like them, I would need to spend two hours with a straightening iron before going out, and start to apply my makeup with a spatula. Why are they trying so hard? All the men their age haven't been to the dentist in years and still live with their mammy. The town is just full of people who are trying way too hard. It's pathetic and it reeks of desperation. They all HAVE to find someone and get married. It's like my friend said to me once when we were at "Tonic" in Blackrock, a pathetic try-hard bar of the worst kind. He said, "you know, when you think about it, this is the most outre these people get. This is them being young, wild and crazy. It's really sad, isn't it. They think they're REALLY living life, but really they're going to some stupid bar every Thursday night, hoping desperately someone will notice them." Ok, so he's a bit bitter sometimes, but he has a point. I don't know how else to describe it, but it's the posing of the university scene (but in dresses and makeup) several years after university has ended. Sad in that Tori Spelling comeback special kind of way.

All I want is someplace with comfy chairs and good drinks. When I've found that place, I'll let you know. In the meantime, they sell nice reds at Tesco and I have two couches in my apartment.

Fire and Ice

2006-03-27T21:53:00.000Z

March has come and gone, and I am glad to see it go. It's not a pleasant month in Ireland - wind, rain, and too many drunk people celebrating a Saint known for his temperance.

It has really passed by me in a fog as I've been living to work instead of working to live, which as we all know isn't why I came to Ireland in the first place, but I'm really focusing on my career right now.

To reward myself for working so much over the past two months, I decided to take a couple extra days at Easter and go somewhere. At first I was going to go to Budapest with a friend, but she didn't want to go at Easter because the prices are a bit higher than for other weekends. Though we have yet to set a date for that, I still wanted to do something at Easter. I have a four-day weekend that's just burning a hole in my calendar. I then decided that Istanbul would be nice. Something different, exotic, expanding my horizons beyond Europe proper, and warm weather. But I didn't get around to booking.

A few weeks ago, I got it into my head that I must go skiing. Not it would be nice to go skiing, but I MUST go skiing. I started to look at options and resorts, but it was hard going. Most web sites were touting ski packages that were expensive, and demanded a full week stay - from Saturday to Saturday. I finally found a flight & hotel option I liked on Expedia.co.uk, which by the way, has some great deals and ideas. The package was to fly into Geneva, and stay in Brides-les-Bains in France for £300 from Friday to Monday. Not bad. I checked a ski rental online, and I could rent skis, poles and boots for the whole weekend for EUR60. The only thing was the ski conditions. Brides-les-Bains doesn't have a high altitude, so it ranks low for spring skiing, and Easter is late this year. Not that I'm a good enough skier to care about ski conditions, and I am from Ontario - the icier the better, but it would be nice for there to be snow. Then I found out that you can link into the Three Valleys pass, a short gondola ride away. That pass includes Meribel and I believe Courcheval - resorts that are way out of my league, but if they're good enough for the Brits, then I can ski them too.

Before I had gotten around to booking, I was talking to a friend of mine. She was thinking of going to Iceland for Easter and wondered if I was interested at all. Am I? Iceland is SO COOL, I love going to places that are interesting, but that no one goes to - like Slovenia, or Prague in 1991 before the Brits and Irish found out that beer is the equivalent of a Euro. Even better, I would have a travel companion for a change.

It's set. Reykjavik here I come.

Artistic Interpretation

2006-02-20T22:20:00.000Z

I'll give the BBC one thing about their Olympic coverage: when the Ice Dance compulsory skate was underway, the Italian couple came in first. The commentators didn't agree, and said: "There may be a new marking system, but it's still ice dancing." Brilliant. It almost makes up for the fact that they keep interviewing the British ice dancing couple who have annoying Scottish accents and totally bug me.

One other thing bugs me about ice dancing in this Olympics: the costumes. Is it just me, or are they getting worse and worse? Since so much of ice dancing is based on artistic impression, musical interpretation and overall performance, in my opinion, the costumes count. I think there should be a costume judge - there are plenty of qualified people with taste out there, and there should be deductions for tacky costumes. Just like when someone falls, the overall performance is diminished, so too when the team is wearing what seems to be Henry VIII on acid.

In fact, I think this should be implemented across all figure skating disciplines.

2010 Olympic Hopeful

2006-02-20T21:53:00.000Z

I've noticed that there is a certain percentage of Olympic athletes that are taking advantage of dual citizenship in order to compete in the Olympics. I don't really have a problem with this; if you can't make it for your home country, then by all means make it for your adopted one. Though, I have to say that this has certainly bitten Canada in the ass. Dale Begg-Smith received the gold medal for Australia in the men's moguls, though born and raised in BC and emigrated only last year. All the goals scored against the men's hockey team were at the hands of Canadians playing for other countries, and the female ice dancer skating for the US is from Kingston, Ontario, and ony received her US citizenship last week.

I was watching the cross-country skiing coverage and the BBC interviewed the lone Irish cross-country skier. It was a piece on the skiers from countries where there is no snow - Costa Rica, Thailand, Ethiopia, and Ireland. All of them knew they weren't globally competitive and they didn't care, they were here for the ride. It hit me. Not to belittle their achievements, which are great and I admire them, but if I get a decent pair of cross-country skis, head over to the Continent to practice every chance I get, I too could be an Olympic athlete. Ireland doesn't have a women's cross-country team. I could be it!

See you in Vancouver. Though, I'll be really old by then - as far as Olympic athletes go.

Deep thoughts

2006-02-12T15:38:00.000Z

There are still news stories about Muslims protesting about the cartoons. Doesn't anyone realise that the cartoons are only news now because someone high up in the Islamic world wants them to be news? They were originally printed in September, and only now there is a furor - because someone brought them to the Middle East to stoke the flames. What are the motives for this?

But what I wonder most is that people who don't have access to basic medical care, schooling, or sometimes even food, somehow are able to get their hands on Danish flags. Where are they getting them from?

Addendum

2006-02-12T13:48:00.000Z

I forgot to mention yesterday that when the BBC commentator said that Canada was currently leading Italy 13-0 in women's hockey, she said, "Canada is leading Italy 13-0 in the third quarter.

It's so bad.

The sorry state of BBC sports coverage

2006-02-11T22:09:00.000Z

So I'm a bit of an Olympics junkie. As much as I think the Games are an overly commercial spectacle, and its lofty ideals have been hijacked by corporate greed, doping, bad judging and probably the Russian Mafia, I still love to watch.

But this year I'm in Ireland, and the Irish couldn't give a toss about the Winter Olympics - I'm guessing because there are no horses involved (it's weird how much they love their horses). Though I have to say that I'm really surpirsed that they haven't embraced curling yet. Didn't anyone tell them that the sport involves drinking?

Anyway, since it's far more fascinating to watch Big Bruvva, or whatever the crap reality show of the moment is, RTE, the ever-fabulous Irish Broadcaster, is not showing ANY of the Olympics. Not even a 1/2 hour highlight show. Why would you, when Blackrock are playing Terenure in Rugby? Never heard of Blackrock and Terenure? Well they're suburbs of Dublin - and they're both even on the same side of the Liffey. Yep, high quality international-level sports matches are being played right here in Dublin, preventing the broadcaster from showing a little-known sporting event that is held only once every four years.

Luckily, I get BBC2. Unluckily, they only seem committed to showing about two hours of coverage a day. So far, my verdict is that the BBC coverage is really lacking. You would think that if they're only broadcasting for two hours a day, they would try to cram in as much sports and results as possible. Oh no, instead today I watched an interview with Andre Bochelli, who will be singing in the closing ceremony, an interview with an American skier, and an interview with Herman Meier. They did mention that Germany has two gold medals, Norway - 1, US - 1, and Canada - 1, but didn't mention in which sports these medals were won. They likewise didn't mention any silver or bronze winners. It makes me long for the days of watching American coverage where they would tell you all about an event - as long as an American was involved.

I knew there would be problems during the coverage of the opening ceremony. I started to count how many times they mentioned Torvill & Dean (way too many). That was like, so 1984. It's almost annoying as "Miracle on Ice", except that American Olympic coverage is on 24/7. The commentators glossed over the Canadians coming in because they were still rabbiting on about Sarajevo from when the Bosnia & Herzegovina team came in earlier. They then quickly added, "Canada is great in team sports. The mens & womens team won gold in ice hockey in 2002, made sweeter by beating the Americans, and they have good curling teams - oh and they might play Great Britain, blah blah blah, UK women's curling supremacy, blah blah blah." In the pre-Olympics show, they couldn't say "Canada's gold medal win in hockey" (mens or womens), without adding "made all the sweeter by beating the US" every single time.

Just as an aside, what's up with the lumberjack chic motif of the Canadian uniforms?

Today they covered the women's moguls final, and the short-programme of the pairs figure skating, but they cut away from that to show a bit of luge. They then did a 2-minute highlight montage that showed a German biathelete (I'm guessing one of the medals won today), Jennifer Heil's mogul run, and impressively a couple of clips of the Sweden-Russia women's hockey game. The clips were kind of grainy and far away so I have no idea where they got the coverage from, but they better start buying from the CBC by the time the good games get underway. You could hardly see the players at all because they only had an angle that showed most of the ice surface, which ensures that you can't see any of the action. It looked like they were showing a clip from the 1970's, and for all I know, they were. They then quickly mentioned that currently Canada is beating Italy 13-0 before signing off for the evening.

The BBC should stick with covering cricket and buy coverage from a real sports network.

I checked through the TV guide, and they don't seem to be planning on covering any of the hockey in detail. There is an Australian pub here that shows Hockey Night in Canada games on Sunday afternoons - but only when it doesn't interfere with rugby. Well, as luck would have it, the Six Nations Rugby Tournament is on now - ensuring that the Men's Gold Medal game won't be shown anywhere. Bah. They hold the damn rugby every year and it's just an excuse for the Brits and Irish to drink away the month that is February, so I don't know why they can't postpone it for the Olympics and drink away March instead.

Religion is the Opiate of the Masses

2006-02-05T21:51:00.000Z

Ok. It's a CARTOON. I just did a search on the Internet and I can't find the actual cartoons anywhere. However, I'm sure they're not that offensive to anyone who is not a religious fanatic.

This furore over the Danish cartoons depicting the Prophet Muhammed is very interesting. One of the cartoons is of the Prophet wearing a turban that looks like a bomb. Meanwhile, adherents to Islam, the "religion of peace", are bombing embassies in retaliation, and protesters are calling for the death of the cartoonists. How ironic.

Now, I'm not painting a billion odd Muslims with the same brush. There are plenty of moderate Muslims out there who are not calling for cartoonists to be beheaded. However, I find it very interesting that governments in the Middle East are calling for the Danish government to apologise and are not really doing anything about the violence. The Danish government shouldn't apologise, the media is an independent body not controlled by the Danish government. Of course, countries that don't have independent media or freedom of speech wouldn't understand that distinction. Further, why aren't the governments in Syria or Lebanon condemning the voilence? Why haven't the bombers been arrested? Maybe it's because the government tacitly supports the voilence. Just like the Saudi government tacitly supported 9/11 and fundamental Imams in the UK tactitly supported the transit bombings in London.

After the London transit bombings, the British government said that that the Islamic community in the UK had a responsibility to stop the recruitment of Islamic extremist terrorists within its community and to stop the preaching of hate in the name of the Islamic religion. Likewise, in countries that are using religion to control its population, they too have a responsibility to the world community when their fanatical adherents decide to declare jihad on the Western World.

Now before someone responds by saying Catholics would be offended if there was a cartoon depicting the Pope fondling a boy, I should say that I was raised Catholic and I wouldn't be offended by such a cartoon. In fact, the Catholic Church deserves it. The cover-up of sexual abuse in the Catholic Church comes from the top down. We all know the Pope knows about it, and by turning a blind eye, is condoning it, and Catholics should be ashamed. In Ireland, one priest has been accused of abusing 70 children. 70. Now, in such a small community in southern Wexford, you really have to say, shame on the parents for not coming forward sooner and allowing this to continue because the priest is such a revered member of the Irish community. As it came out in the inquiry, the bishop knew about it and did nothing. When he consulted a lawyer about whether or not the Church could be held for negligence if they heard about the abuse but didn't investigate the accusations, and was told that he and the Church could be held negligent, he took out insurance. That's right. He was told he could be liable and he took out insurance against negligence lawsuits instead of doing the right thing. What a great example of Christianity. I have since decided that while I might believe in the tenets of Christianity, I no longer believe in or respect the Catholic Church as an institution.

But I digress, the freedom of speech includes ideas that are unpopular or offensive. It is only then that we can discuss and debate the merits of the idea in the open. It is only once the idea has been discussed by the populace that it can be either accepted or rejected. If the idea is not allowed to be published because it might cause offence is censorship. With so much violence and crime being committed in the name of God/Allah/whatever, and being sanctioned by religious leaders, it is crucial that our major religions are held up to open scrutiny, and questioning of the institution of religion is not supressed to appease the governments of nations that have no concept of freedom of speech.

That said, this war of Fundamental Islam versus the rest of the world is far from over. As one of the British protesters stated, "Islam is peace but you see there will only be peace when Islam is implemented across the world." The Western World should be worried, but we shouldn't curtail our freedom of speech. If we do, the fundamentalists win.

Indecision 2006

2006-01-23T22:46:00.000Z

So today is election day in Canada. I confess, I'm an election junkie. I watch the results on TV all night long. I know exactly where I was when the "NON" vote won by 1% in 1995 (parents basement in front of the television), and I know where I was when Florida switched from "blue" state to "red" state in 2000 (I left a friend's place when it was Blue, and by the time I arrived home, it was Red).

This year I didn't vote. It wasn't out of apathy or laziness, but because I didn't receive a ballot. Right after the election was called, I received my "overseas voters package" in the mail. There was no ballot inside. I called Elections Canada and they said they would send another one to me, and it never arrived. By the time I realised that it might not be coming, it was too late to call again. Considering that I had to rely on both Canada Post and Ireland's An Post, I'm not suspecting that Elections Canada knew that I voted NDP last time around.

Speaking of who to vote for, I can't wait to see what this election will bring. It seems as though everyone is finally sick of the Martin Liberals, but there isn't much of an alternative. I think many Canadians east of Winnipeg would feel better about voting Conservative if Peter MacKay was leader. Personally, I think the Conservatives are a scary choice. At the end of the day, if Harper wins, he's going to thank those who helped him all those years, not the people who he had to convince in six weeks that he really is a moderate. Those people that he will thank are the whack job Alberta Conservatives who really believe that what Canada needs is to emulate US social conservatism - because it's not really politics unless it's based on God, guns and gays.

I think the best outcome will be if it turns out that everyone voted Green as a protest vote. They really do have the best ideas, they just don't have the money and a catchier name - they can just ask the Conservative party, formerly known as CRAP, about the wonders of a name change.

Whatever the outcome, the real fun starts tomorrow when all the muzzles come off. Win or lose, all of Harper's Alberta cronies will finally be allowed to say whatever they want.

Pass the popcorn and beer please.

57 Channels

2006-01-19T21:26:00.000Z

Well not quite. We get 14 channels, but there is still nothing on. Just to illustrate just HOW BAD Irish television is, I've typed out the TV schedule for the main channels for tonight from 7-11. I'm not including the news or sports networks, though I might add that sports=football only, and not always even Premiership level.

7pm
Ear to the Ground - religious show
The Cafe - "fast paced show" with two people I've never heard of
Something Gaelic
Emmerdale - REALLY crappy British soap
Lobby Lives - behind the scenes look at the Belfast Europa Hotel
Seaon Ticket - guide to the weekend soccer, rugby and Gaelic football action
Emmerdale - on another channel!
Channel 4 News
The Simpsons
Hollyoaks - really cheesy "teen" British soap

7.30pm
EastEnders - crappy British soap
Two Wild: Massive Nature
Irish Paint Magic - seriously
10 Years Younger - reality show. Cosmetic experts make haggard people look 10 years younger
EastEnders - on another channel!
Hearts and Minds - gets to the heart of the debate on the future of the Province (I don't know which province)
After They Were Famous - this week: Gary Coleman
The Simpsons
Celebrity (Z-listers) Big Brother Live - crappiest reality show on TV. Everytime you watch it, the baby Jesus cries, and three angels lose their wings.

8pm
Fair City - incredibly crappy Irish soap - it's on EVERY NIGHT at 8pm. What a waste of a prime time slot
Two Wild: Nick's Quest - Nick travels to the North Pole to find out the effect global warming has had on the polar bear population
Something Gaelic
Las Vegas
Seaside Rescue - documentary series on the work of coastal rescue teams
Pay Off Your Mortgage in Two Years - and eat only Ramen noodles in order to do it
The Bill - Steve and Laura are stunned to find a room full of cannabis plants in a student residence. Stunned? Really?
10 Years Younger - Different time, different channel, same reality show crap
Project Catwalk - hosted by Elizabeth Hurley. Search for Britain's next fashion designer. A rip-off of The Apprentice. Oh how the mighty have fallen since the end of the Austin Powers franchise.
Friends - again

8.30pm
Something in Gaelic
Super Vets
Friends - AGAIN. Just in case you haven't seen one of the episodes the first 50 times

9pm
News
The Liffey Laugh - Irish stand-up comedy series
Invasion - series. Town under quarantine. It's the end of the world as we know it.
Supernatural - Sci-fi drama series
Hotel Babylon - drama series set in the world of the luxury 5-star hotel
Horizon - documentary about women who have miscarriages trying to have babies
Eleventh Hour - brand-new thriller series starring Patrick Stewart of Star Trek fame
Celebrity Big Brother - another time, another channel, in case you haven't lost enough brain cells already today
Cold Case
ER

9.30pm
Prime Time - current affairs
Movie: The Core - heard of it? Me neither

10pm
Hanging with Hector - Hector visits Bruff in Co. Limerick where he catches up with comedian Jon Kenny
Something in Gaelic
Will and Grace - this is still on the air?
BBC News
Pets are People - I'm not making this up
Tony Blair Rock Star - documentary about Blair's attempt to become a rock star while at uni
Bones
Celebrity Big Brother's Big Mouth - a panel of experts discuss the latest happenings in the house. Just in case you really are that stupid.

10.30pm
Something in Gaelic
Hot Properties - the girls are horrified when they learned that they all drink dialled. The horror
Let's Talk - audience discussion programme that tackles the big issues in Northern Ireland
News
News
My Name is Earl

10.45pm
The West Wing - because with all the other worthy shows on earlier in the evening, this one isn't worthy of a prime time slot

This is a representation of what's on TV on a nightly basis - or rather, what's NOT on TV. Soapstar Superstar might be over, because that's been on almost every night for the past few weeks. Third-rate soapstars on a Pop Idol-esque reality show is way, way worse than the regular Pop Idol. Obviously the Irish don't know what real TV is, because they lap it up. The first few episodes of "Weeds" were on TV in December, but it's now off the air. I guess the acting and writing wasn't up to snuff.

What does an Irish programmer have for qualifications? Zero knowledge of popular culture and really bad taste? Hell, a monkey can do a better job. Before someone comments that the Irish broadcasters probably don't have the funds to buy half decent programmes, and by the way, Hollywood Squares is better than most of these, and is probably not as expensive, half of the channels I get are British. Not only that, but anyone who owns a TV - even if it's a non-working set, have to pay a TV license of EUR150 a year. So, we paid EUR150 just to turn the TV on. This tax is ostensibly so that the Irish public television station can bring quality programming to the Irish market.

I shouldn't complain, I don't pay anything for cable. We plugged in the TV and we magically received a bunch of channels. They were just there. However, the TV license inspector did pay us a visit and remind us of our obligations as privileged TV owners. I bet his mother is proud of him. So, we did cough up EUR150 so that we won't miss a single episode of "Pets are People" and "Celebrity Big Brother."

I've been Googling "online TV on demand" in the hopes of finding a reliable site where I can download TV programmes. I'll even pay a small fee. No luck so far, but I can't wait for it to catch on.

Easter is Just Around the Corner

2005-12-31T19:09:00.000Z

It's barely New Year's Eve, and already the Creme Eggs are in the grocery stores.

I haven't even finished my Christmas box of After Eights.

Would You Like Fries With That?

2005-11-14T22:41:00.000Z

There is an interesting article on globeandmail.com today. Well, the article isn't that interesting, it's actually really lame, but the 165 comments that Globe readers sent in are interesting. The article is titled "Canucks Come Home" and the government is asking expats to return home because Canada apparently needs skilled workers. The majority of the comments were, not surprisingly, negative.

Most respondents cited high taxes as a reason for not coming back. However, that's not really an issue for me because I live in Europe. My taxes might be slightly lower in Dublin, but not for much longer (I move up to a higher tax bracket next year) and the health care system is worse here. I think there is a much better quality of life in Canada.

However, I did agree with the respondents who said that there are no jobs for skilled workers in Canada, and therefore no point in asking expats to come home - there is nothing for them. Just look at our taxi drivers - we have the highest-educated taxi drivers in the world. I for one know from personal experience that you basically have to be overqualified in order to get a job in Canada. I remember when I was working at the mall after graduation. Yes, you read right. Working at the mall after graduation. When a lot of stores put up job ads, they requested a university education - to work at the mall. That's so utterly ridiculous. Or is it? If there is a glut of overeducated people in Canada, which there is, then you can demand over-the-top educational requirements for menial jobs. The problem is that Canada has one of the highest rate of university graduates per capita, but doesn't have the employment landscape to absorb these graduates. The problem is, by educating these people, you're setting them up with expectations for employment - and those expectations don't involve wearing a polyester uniform.

Also, it's very difficult for someone to get valid work experience after graduation. There is little in the way of proper intern, work experience, or in-house training programmes for young graduates. Many are caught in a no-work, no-experience cycle until they either somehow break in, or decide that delivering pizzas for a living isn't that bad.

I remember back when I was working at the ad agency and I was looking for work elsewhere. One of the reasons why I wanted to leave was that I was under-paid and I didn't have room to move up or grow because it was a small company. The only person above me was my boss. When I went on interviews, I was told that I wasn't qualified because I hadn't ever had someone working under me before. First of all, all managers haven't when they first become a manager, and secondly, I had been a manager before - I had managed my own retail store for a short period of time and was responsible for hiring, firing and training staff. Of course, that didn't count - that was different. After all it's much harder to keep a high school kid working for pocket change motivated than it is someone who is trying to build a career.

It doesn't help that HR practitioners in Canada are dreadfully conservative. They like to see the classic, linear career path. Any bends in that path and game over, they're not interested. I remember another time when I was at the ad agency and looking for another job. I was in the interview and I have (had) a five-month gap on my CV. When I graduated from my post-graduate diploma, it took me five months to find a job in my field. During that time, I temped a a receptionist. However in an effort to keep my CV to the recommended two pages, and because the job had no bearing on my experience as an advertising practitioner, I left it off. The HR person asked me what I did during that time and I explained that after graduation, I was caught in the no-job, no-experience cycle, that it took me some time to find a job and I temped to earn a paycheque. She then said, "but what did you do?" So I replied, "I temped as a receptionist for a mining company." And explained why I felt that I didn't need to have it on my CV. Her response, "Yes, but what did you DO??" "Well, I answered the phone and transferred calls to various departments, I received courier packages, as it was a high security building, I screened visitors before allowing them access and I also used Microsoft Word Mail Merge to send out mass mailings to shareholders." Her response, "so what did you DO???" What did I DO???? I went home and changed the dates of my schooling on my CV to eliminate the damn gap, that's what I did. I couldn't fathom how an irrelevant five-month gap from four years ago had anything to do with how good I was at advertising. But then again, if I wasn't good enough to be hired right out of school with no gaps, I wasn't good enough for them.

Job prospects were tight for me in Canada. When I wanted to leave the ad agency, I wanted to leave for more money because I was already underpaid. However, I was currently paying next to nothing for transportation because I walked to work. If I moved jobs, I would probably need to add in the cost of a commute. As nothing that I was applying for was within walking distance, I needed to consider that unless I was making more money, my disposable income would be lower. I couldn't find anything that was going to pay me more money to offset my higher living costs. At the same time, none of these jobs were sufficiently interesting for me to sacrifice a bit of money for long-term gain. Also, considering the wage-freeze, hiring-freeze climate that Canada was in at the time, I had to consider that the wage I accepted upon hiring was probably going to be my wage for around 2-3 years.

I know that I would never have the job that I have now back home. In fact, the company I work for has offices in Canada, and had I sent my CV to them instead of moving abroad, they probably wouldn't even have considered me worthy of a thanks-but-no-thanks email in response.

I often think about moving home but my main barrier, besides the lack of vacation time and travel opportunities, is the fact that I'm not sure there is anything for me at home. Will there be a decent, challenging job for me back home, or will I be turned down because I'm considered a waster for quitting my job and leaving for Europe in the first place? Will any employers feel that my international work experience is worthy and valid, or will they write it off because it's not "Canadian experience"? In the past, I heard critcisms from would-be employers that I wasn't qualified because I didn't have enough experience with PowerPoint. (PowerPoint? Hi, I'm a moron and have the inability to learn a Microsoft application). Will I return home to hear that I am not qualified because I haven't been in the Canadian workforce for the past few years, and international experience is not desirable because it's something akin to colouring outside the lines?

Will I pack up my wealth of life and work experience to return home to end up performing the office equivalent of asking "Would you like fries with that?" According to those 165 comments, the answer to that is yes.

Article: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20051113.wcanada1113/CommentStory/National/

Now what the hell am I supposed to eat?

2005-11-13T15:03:00.000Z

Once upon a time, bread was good for you - as long as it wasn't white bread of course. Bacon, eggs and red meat were bad for you if you ate them every day, so you really only had them on weekends. They were fine in moderation. Milk was essential for strong bones, and if you didn't drink it, you would never be strong and healthy.

Then we found out that milk isn't that good for you. Cows are given so many antibiotics, some of them are transferred into the milk and it's the long term effects haven't been determined, but it's sometimes cited as a reason for the rise of lactose intolerance. That's fine, because I don't like milk and I haven't had any for years.

Bread then became the new public enemy #1. It is a carb, and all carbs are bad. They contribute to insulin resistance, which occurs because the body can no longer process fuels, fats and sugars. This occurs because our bodies are geared towards storing food for an upcoming famine, but in this current day and age, there never is a famine. Our carbs are over-processed so they're broken down into sugars too quickly and easily, and our body develops an insulin resistance, which causes us to gain weight and keep it on despite reducing caloric intake. Bread also bears no resemblance to the product of our grandparents' generation anyway. Unless you're buying whole grain bread, most of the nutrients have actually been stripped out of it during the processing. Also, apparently there is more gluten in today's bread than there was several years ago, and many people have difficulty digesting it. This too was ok. After I returned from Germany when I was 16, I declared that I only wanted to eat bakery whole grain or rye bread, so I could still have my honey on toast with a clear conscience - I wasn't eating mass-produced bread.

However, now that I am in Ireland and am struggling more with my figure, I have had to eliminate many carbs from my diet. I find it's the only way I can keep weight down. So I've had to say good-bye to my beloved honey on toast - for now anyway. I could never find proper whole grain bread here anyway.

So my diet mainly consists of salads, cheese, eggs, chicken and pork. I do eat carbs sometimes because I'm just not that good of a dieter, but when I am being strict, it's mostly salads and meats.

Of course, by salad I don't mean iceberg lettuce. I read in the Globe & Mail a couple of years ago that the molecules in iceberg lettuce in particular retain radioactive material even after washing. California farms get most of their water from the Colorado River which contains some toxic contaminants from the aerospace/nuclear industry from companies like Lockheed Martin that sometimes illegally dump waste in the river. So since then I only buy greenhouse-grown Boston Leaf lettuce.

A couple of weeks ago, there was a report that avian flu has hit Britain. Now it turns out that the bird was never in the regular poultry supply so it's all good, but considering the British track record - foot & mouth, mad cow, I'm not convinced. Also, the health authorities have assured us that eating poultry and eggs is ok - just be sure to make sure that the yolk on your eggs is cooked. Ok, so runny yolk is risky, but cooked yolk is ok. I'm feeling a little more uneasy now. Also, though I live in Ireland, that doesn't make me immune. The Irish are notorious for half-assed laziness when it comes to manufacturing/production.

Since that report came out, I've had a really hard time eating chicken. It's just the last straw for me. First it was "Fast Food Nation". After reading about the meat processing process, I was freaking out that I couldn't afford to only buy organic meat on a regular basis. After awhile, however, I started to not think about it so much. Then a couple of months ago I read an article about the manufacturing of chickens and how they're fed massive amounts of hormones to grow faster and that if you see bruise-like marks on the chicken, it's actually urine - they accidentally pee on each other and themselves because they're in such close quarters. So I just made sure that none of the chicken I bought had bruises on it. Now I'm possibly eating something that can cause the next world pandemic... That just did it for me. I can't even look at the chicken breasts at the meat counter.

So for the eighth day in a row I'm eating pork. I like pork, and garlic spareribs are one of my favourite foods. Of course, I can't eat rice with those spareribs anymore, but that's ok. I remember hearing something about pork - or is it just that you can't eat it if you're Jewish? Well, I'm not Jewish and I'm certainly not going to seek out any information about whether or not pork is good for you. I don't want to know. As it is, I'm so bored with my diet. It's completely uninspiring but there is nothing else I can eat (that I like). I can make fish sometimes, but I bring a packed lunch to work and fish isn't suitable for that. I get home from the gym too late during the week to cook a meal then so I can only really have fish on the weekends. So that leaves salad, pork, cheese and eggs... but wait, cheese comes from cows pumped up on antibiotics doesn't it, and eggs come from avian flu-infected chickens.... CRAP!!!

Now what the hell do I eat?

Some recent thoughts

2005-11-07T22:12:00.002Z

Ok, I know I haven't written lately. There are a few reasons for it. I'm pretty happy in my new apartment so I haven't been going out into town as much - and into net cafes. I have broadband now though so I plan on posting more regularly from now on. Also, work has been shockingly busy, leaving me little time to think about other stuff.

I had a few thoughts for the topic of this post, but I've decided that for my first post back after my hiatus, I'll just post a collection of some random thoughts from the past week or two.

I can't believe that Kate Moss is still in the news here. What is so shocking about the fact that she's a cocaine addict? I thought it was shocking that pictures haven't come out before now.

I've been reading slate.com recently. They have a geat mix of articles from the political to pop cultural. This past week, I read a very good series about a terrorist's wife and also a couple of great articles about the high school prom. As my prom, uh I mean company Christmas party, is coming up, I found the prom series of articles very topical. No I don't intend on going to this year's Christmas party. Once you've graduated from high school, there is no reason to ever look back.

I can't believe that a senior White House politician is named Skippy - whoops, I mean Scooter. Ok, considering this current administration, I can believe it. However, nothing says "frat boy" more than the name Scooter. Does anyone take this guy seriously? Let me guess, Daddy got him into Yale, he rode his connections to the top, stole an election with the help of his governor brother.... oops, wrong Republican. Anyway, I think that you should never trust a man named for a child's mode of transportation. Verdict: Guilty. As an aside, this prosecuter seems to be really tough. I hope Official A is Karl Rove.

My newest favourite TV show is "Lost". Before anyone comments, pickings are slimmer here than back home.

In the news today

2005-08-03T09:24:00.000Z

Air France flight 358 crashed upon landing at Toronto's Pearson International airport yesterday afternoon. No one died in the crash, which is a complete miracle. It's really impressive that the flight crew managed to get all 300+ passengers out of the plane before it burst into flames. As the panic factor must have been high, this was no easy task, and the crew is to be commended. I often count how many rows I am sitting away from the emergency exits, and sometimes I'll admit that my thoughts turn to calculating how many people sitting in front of me are likely to impede me getting off the plane in the event of a crash by panicking, blocking the way, deciding to grab something from the overhead bins first, or being too scared to use the emergency chute. I am convinced that I will be in a crash someday and will survive the initial impact, but will die because I couldn't get off the plane on time because someone stopped to grab their purse.

Some thoughts about this event:

1. RTE news sucks (Irish state TV channel). They announced in a news break that "a plane crashed in Toronto". They didn't say what flight or how, and then went on to a story about poverty in Niger. I was beside myself flipping the channels until I got all my info from Sky.

2. Fly Air France. Their crew is obviously top-notch. I flew a Continental code-share on an Air France plane coming back from Paris a few years ago, and they are great.

3. I am right to always want to sit at the back of the plane if I can't get an emergency exit row seat.

4. It's a really sad commentary about the state of the world today that when we hear about things like this, we express more relief that it was an accident instead of a terrorist incident before worrying about if there were any survivors.

Blue Rodeo in Dublin

2005-07-25T11:06:00.000Z

Went to see Blue Rodeo at Whelan's on Friday night with a Canadian friend of mine. Whelan's is a small bar that hosts a lot of live acts. It was a great show. The place was packed with Canadians. I knew a couple of other people there, and hung out with them for a bit. A band from Nova Scotia called El Torpedo opened and they were really good. They were on when I got there, and I thought at first that Blue Rodeo had started already. I soon realized that it wasn't them, but knew right away that I was listening to a Canadian band. They're quite Tragically Hip-influenced.

Blue Rodeo was, of course, great. Funny, it's the kind of band where you know so many of their songs, but you wouldn't necessarily buy an album or make the effort to see them live – unless you're away from home, then you go for some Canadian good times. Everyone there was belting out all the words, it was so much fun. They played for a really long time too and they included all the favourites like "Lost Together","I Don't Know What I'm Doing Here", "Rose-coloured Glasses", and "Hasn't Hit Me Yet", though they didn't play "Try". It sucked that I was on crutches, but I got a stool, which was lucky, as they usually empty the place of furniture during concerts.

As my friend kept going up to the bar to talk to her boyfriend who was standing up there, I actually felt a bit alone for much of the concert. The other guys that I knew there were with their girlfriends and you could tell they were sharing a part of where they came from with them. I felt like I had no one with whom to share the evening. If this were a night back home, I would have been there with a bunch of friends. It was that kind of show. It would have been better if I wasn't stuck sitting all night, and also if my friend hadn't brought along her boyfriend, who was quite honestly, not into it. As it was, I felt alone among my countrymen, which was weird. For a few hours on Friday night, I was home. But yet, I wasn't.

It wouldn't be a sports season unless I am carried off the field

2005-07-24T16:19:00.000Z

I sprained my ankle a few nights ago playing tag rugby. I was trying to tag this girl, and she was trying to deek around me. She stopped suddenly and moved in the other direction, so I did too, but my left ankle didn't go in the same direction as the rest of my body. I heard a pop and was down on the ground. It turned out to be not that bad of a sprain though you wouldn't have known by the size of my ankle and the pain on Tuesday night. I had to be carried off the field and then later carried to the car. The swelling has gone down quite a bit already and I can walk a short distance without limping. If I go to the store, I still need one of my crutches and ramps and stairs are a bit of an issue, but I think that I'll be walking somewhat normally at least by next week. So it's not nearly as bad as some of my previous injuries.

It was hard work getting used to being a temporary cripple here in Dublin. I had to catch a taxi to the hospital but I ran out of credit on my phone the night before. I had to ask my flatmate to call me a taxi, and the taxi company didn't want to come pick me up because I live too close to the hospital (it's about a five minute walk). First however, I needed to add some credit onto my phone because I needed to call work to say I wouldn't be in. The taxi driver pulled up to the store and I asked him if he wouldn't mind going in and he said no. I had to hop on one leg into the store, top up my mobile and hop out. Good thing I took dance classes as a kid, they really came in handy. At the hospital, they didn't put me in a wheelchair. A nurse led me to radiology and halfway down the hallway, which I was hopping down, she turned and asked me if I wanted crutches. Uh, well, how much further is radiology? Oh no that's ok, I'll keep hopping. It's a great workout. My good leg was hurting more than the sprained ankle by this time.

Irish hospitals are grim by the way. I was wondering why everyone at tag was saying that I should go home, put ice on it, and not go to the hospital until tomorrow if I could help it. I think the hospital waiting room would be seriously dodgy in the evenings. Oh, and something that some of you might find surprising. If you go into a hospital for anything, they charge you EURO55. I have private insurance, which I just got through work the day before my injury, fortuitously enough, but it's not very good here in Ireland. It doesn't cover the EURO55 admittance fee for one. Private insurance covers you for things like cancer treatment and private beds in a hospital, which you would definitely want here, as well as maternity care, cardiac care (necessary for those who grew up on Irish breakfasts) and MRI scans. Outpatient treatment including all proactive tests, GP visits and specialist consultations (dermatology, orthopaedic, physiotherapy) are discounted rate subject to a EURO220 or EURO350 yearly deductible - depending on what plan you go for. You can pay extra for a complete plan, but it's very, very expensive. I guess I feel slightly easier knowing that if I get something chronic, and I spend more than EURO220 in a year, that my subsequent outpatient visits will be discounted, though you have to pay the full amount and get the money back at the end of the year. I went with the plan with the lower deductible for routine care, because let's face it, if I get cancer, I'm going home to Canada. Besides, my plan also has partial cover for emergency dental in case of an accident, and the other plan had no coverage for dental at all. Teeth don't matter here apparently. Meanwhile, if I get in an accident and my teeth get knocked out, I consider that to be a serious medical issue. Getting teeth fixed properly (and to a certain cosmetic standard) is very expensive here. I much prefer the Canadian system – it's just so much easier. I got a skin rash a couple of months ago, and thought I might have to go to a dermatologist (EURO150 just for him to look at you once). Luckily, my GP could treat it, and she only costs EURO50. Overall that's not a lot of money, but if you had to make a few follow-up visits and see a specialist a few times, that really makes a difference in one's budget.

Dublin isn't very disabled-friendly. The disabled access ramp at the train station where I go to catch the train to work is under repair, so that area is boarded up. To get on the train, I have to go over a pedestrian overpass, which has lots of stairs and is slippery in the rain. When I get off the train at my destination, the disabled exit leads to the street, so I would need to exit, cross the tracks and walk back to the station on the other side to catch the bus. It's a bit of a circuitous route. Alternatively, there is an overpass that I could climb. I don't really fancy climbing the stairs to the overpass on my knees and then going down on the other side on my butt in the presence of my fellow commuter coworkers. Besides, the shuttle bus leaves five minutes after the train arrives, and it would probably take me so long to do either option, I would miss the bus anyways. I've been taking the city bus to work, which takes longer, is less comfortable, but hey, no stairs and someone gives me their seat. It's times like this that you realise how crappy disabled people have it. I wish I had my work laptop set up and had Internet access - then I could work from home.

I have to say, thought, that people in Dublin are definitely nice to people with crutches, which is funny because normally I find most Dubliners to be pushy and inconsiderate. On my way home from the hospital, I was getting tired because the crutches are unbelievably crappy. My whole upper body has been killing me from the way I have to hold them, and I think I now have carpal tunnel in my left wrist as a result. I got to the shopping centre, which is between the hospital and my place, and there is a patch of grass there. Since I was really tired, I thought I would sit there for a bit. Intelligent move, because I couldn't get back up again. I was trying to get up, but my right leg was pretty weak from all the hopping earlier in the day, and I couldn't roll myself up just on that leg. At one point was on all fours to try to get up, when I noticed that this guy was staring at me from his car. I sat back down to wait until he drove off because I'm not here to put on a show for anyone's amusement, when he pulled over, got out of his car, and asked me if I needed help up. Everyone at work has been getting me tea, and in fact, I find it hard to just go to the cafeteria without being fussed over. After work one day, I was trying to get on the bus, but the stairs were kind of high up, so some guy came by and helped me up the stairs and then asked someone to get out of their seat so I could sit there. Funny, because most people push their way on and off the bus to make sure they're first.

Hitting the Wall

2005-07-18T09:50:00.000Z

Something happens to me that I refer to as hitting the wall. If drinking beer for example, which I don't do well, I'll often hit a drinking wall, where I cannot possibly put another drop down my throat because I feel full. The wall sneaks up on me very quickly. I can have three pints of beer and feel fine, but three sips into my fourth and the wall just hits. People, Irish people in particular, comment on leaving a perfectly good beer to waste, but I just can't finish it. I also have a "I'm tired and need to go to bed" wall. It's like the drinking wall except that when it hits, I need to go home and go to bed, and I need that to happen right away. If I'm left waiting before I can head home, I get very, very crabby.

Irish people aren't generally known for being particularly speedy. This is especially true when they're out socialising/drinking. It also gets worse as the night progresses, which creates a conflict with my wall and my subsequent need for a quick escape at the end of the night. Usually, I try to prevent such problems by not going to an event with someone, and also by having my own way home (usually taxi), so I don't have to rely on anyone else. I actually do my best not to agree to getting a ride home with someone. I also don't wait around for others to be ready at the end of the night. I make sure that the other girls are set up with rides or they come with me for a taxi, but everyone else is on their own. When I'm out with my Canadian friends, I can leave quickly and easily. Someone will say, are you ready to go, and we go. It's all very simple. That doesn't work with Irish people.

Case in point. This past weekend, I was in Letterkenny at a party with a friend. I decide that I want to leave and my friend says that we'll call a cab to get back to the B&B, but first we have to find Deirdre because she might want to share a cab. 10 minutes later, we find Deirdre and she's just opened a new beer. So w''re going to wait for Deirdre to finish her beer. By this point, it's 2.30am and I'm estimating our ETA to the B&B at 4.00am. It's a 25 minute walk to the B&B. I suggest that we call the cab now anyway because it took 45 minutes for one to come get us to take us to the party - in Letterkenny, which isn't that big. There was some hesitation here on my friend's part. Finally my friend calls a cab, and it's going to be 20 minutes, so he's worried that the taxi will be here too soon. hahahahahahahaha. First of all, this is Letterkenny. Things do happen at a certain pace in Dublin, but they happen twice as slowly outside of Dublin. Since I have hit the wall, my censor is also disabled and I tell him not to worry because that's an Irish 20 minutes. They won't be here before half an hour, but probably closer to the 45 minutes it took for us to get a taxi on the way here. So, now I'm not too popular and I'm sitting on a porch step. People are looking at me because I look like I'm wasted and ready to drop at any second while we wait for Deirdre to finish her beer. While the second half of that is right, I didn't actually have very much to drink - only a couple of glasses of wine. I. Just. Want. To. Go. Home. NOW. Any act on my part to be sociable could inadvertantly prolong the goodbye process.

The Irish have a way of saying goodbye that seems to last forever. Really, they're going to see each other again. At the end of a party though, when they say that they're leaving, what they really mean is 'I'm going to have one last drink, make one last round of conversation with everyone, and then I'll call a taxi and start to prepare to leave, but will do a final goodbye and someone will say "do you really have to go now" and I may change my mind and have one more for the road'. If they do go, the approximate time between stated intention to leave with actually physically leaving is anywhere between 1-3 hours. This is something I can't comprehend. Even if the wall hasn't hit yet, once I say I'm leaving, I am really leaving and I prepare to actually do so. As a kid, it drove me nuts when we would get our coats on to leave someplace and my parents would continue the conversation at the door with the host for half an hour while my brother and I were standing there roasting.

So back to Letterkenny. As it didn't look like Deirdre or my friend were actually ready to go anytime soon and I didn't want to be the party pooper, I told my friend that it's only a 25 minute walk to the B&B, but it will be 45 minutes before the taxi arrives, and probably closer to an hour by the time we actually get out of there, so I have no problem walking back. And I meant it. I don't want to drag people away, but I was so close to losing it because they weren't leaving any time soon. I know it's just the Irish demeanour but I do think it's kind of rude. I said I wanted to go, and my friend said we would go, but then we're not really going. He knows I'm tired, but I'm expected to wait for an hour and a half for him. I'm supposed to wait because he'll feel bad that he let me walk home alone in the middle of the night, but I'm supposed to wait until 4am so he doesn't feel bad? We left as soon as the taxi came whether the others were ready to go or not (they weren't).

I think others think that I'm just being crabby, and well I am being crabby, but it's more than that. It's actually almost painful for me to sit there and wait for the others to be ready when I'm dead tired. I can't describe it, but it's a real physical exertion to keep my eyes open, let alone be charming. I don't think people understand how annoying and hard it is to wait for people to walk down the street, people who are walking so slow because they have the complete inability to walk in a straight line. They stop at a side street (is is this one?). Then they stop because they think they left their jacket behind, but no they're wearing it. They then stop again and turn around because they think they lost me, but meanwhile, I'm taking baby steps and pausing during each one and I'm still half a block ahead of them. The only way I could be behind them is if I was walking backwards. They also stop whenever someone speaks because they can't walk and talk at the same time. And finally, finally, a 1/2 hour later, they make it to the end of the street. But look Abrakebabra (dodgy kebab chain). Food. Let's stop. ARGGHHHH!

I know it would be easier if I could catch early-warnings signs of the wall. That way, I can proactively say that I need to go and maybe successfully leave before the wall hits. But I can't predict it. I can be on the dance floor one minute and look like I'm ready to boogie all night, and the next minute it will hit. Then I need to go. Now.

sum-sum-summertime

2005-07-13T15:58:00.000Z

It's a heatwave over here in Ireland. I'm not being sarcastic either. It's not a heatwave in terms of what I'm used to back in Toronto, but it's been close to record-breaking temperatures over here for the past few days. It was over 27C on Monday and yesterday. Today is in the early 20s and it's expected to be that way for the rest of the week. We've had much less rain so far this summer than last summer (knock wood), when it rained nearly every day in July. In fact, we have had quite a few sunny days and nearly every weekend has been pleasant since the end of May.

I went to play tag rugby last night and running around outside in the warm sunshine was really fun. Ireland would be a much more enjoyable place if the sun shined more often.

Cold showers and broken-down busses

2005-07-11T09:46:00.000Z

As you know, I just came back from a trip to Slovenia. So you're thinking that the title of this entry is in reference to Slovenia, right? Nope. It's in reference to Ireland.

Slovenia is a beautiful, easy-going country. Everyone seemed to be sporty and into outdoor activities, and I didn't see a single person wearing a suit. Everyone was easy-going and no one seemed to be in a hurry. Yet, public transport still managed to run on time. The busses, though they didn't travel frequently in all parts of the country, did run according to schedule. The trains were fabulous. They were so clean and nice, they reminded me of Swiss trains, and the bathrooms were about three times the size of a conventional train bathroom.

At one point in my trip, I took a bus from Kobarid, in the north-west of the country near the Italian and Austrian border, over to Bled via the Vršič Pass (alt 1600m) in the Julian Alps. There were a bunch of women on the bus when I boarded. Shortly after the trip started, they got off and I was the only person on the bus for nearly the entire trip to Bled. The driver, who I will call Tobey Maguire because that's who he looked like, chatted with me, made sure that I liked the music he was playing, and then when there was a 20-minute stopover in one town, let me get out and go to the store and come back. It was cool. In Ireland, he would have stopped en route, waited for another bus to come along and then would have told me to get on that one because he's going "out of service." This has happened to me so often in Ireland. I'm sure that if the number of passengers falls below a certain amount, Dublin bus drivers are instructed to dump all remaining passengers and abandon the route. On any given weekend, a bus is supposed to come along my street once every 7-8 minutes, or three within any given 1/2 hour. Often I've been left waiting for 30-45 minutes for a bus to come along, and then when it does, it often just drives past me because it's full. This has happened consistently enough for me to believe that only a 1/3 of scheduled busses actually make it out on to the roads in Dublin.

When busses do run in Dublin, it doesn't mean that they are running well. The bus I was on yesterday suffered from a distinct lack of shocks. It lurched so bad, and those of us sitting up top had to actually hold on to the rails. If anyone was drunk, they would have been hurling for sure. I've also been on several busses that have just broken down. On one occasion, a bus I was on stalled every time it came to a stop. Eventually it just didn't start up again and we were dumped out literally in the middle of nowhere. Most of the Dublin busses are Volvo's, which is supposed to be a good brand. Maybe they got the factory seconds for a cheaper rate.

The shower in my apartment is a bit dodgy. The water pressure isn't that great, and we often don't have hot water. This past weekend, we had to turn on the heat in our apartment just to get some hot water, as what was starting to happen was that the hot water tank would automatically shut itself off unless the heat was on. It was a warm, sunny day in Ireland yesterday and since my window is south-facing, my bedroom was a complete heatsink. I also can't open my bedroom window when I'm not around due to evil stray cats (see previous post titled Stray Cat Strut). I know several people in the UK and Ireland in which hot water is a real issue. Part of the reason why I changed gyms to one closer to my apartment is so that I have a back-up shower in case of real problems - and I've had to put the back-up plan into use (see previous post titled I'll Get to It... Mañana).

Meanwhile, when in Slovenia, I stayed in two different youth hostels and one B&B. In all three places, the showers were quite good, with great water pressure and hot water - no matter what time of day it was. In the B&B, the shower was probably the best one I've had in Western Europe. The water pressure was almost too great.

So you would think that Slovenia, even though they were the go-getters of the Yugoslav union, might have suffered in terms of water, roads and transport during the Communist reign, but not so. They've managed to surpass most of Western Europe and leave Ireland in the dust.

Further thoughts on the London bombings

2005-07-07T19:30:00.000Z

These people were just going about their daily lives, and it could be anyone, anywhere, at any time. Though London was presumably targetted for its foreign policy, it still seems so horribly random.

Living away from my family and friends, it also makes me feel really isolated, and I miss them horribly. I wish I was going home to someone to talk to, instead of my shitty flatmates, or to "talk" at the Internet café like I am doing now.

Life is too short, so you might as well be doing something you like.

I still want to move to London, these bombings haven't changed that.

Close to home

2005-07-07T09:58:00.000Z

You're soon reminded how precarious the world situation is right now. I guess being from Canada, we enjoy some kind of insulation from the more violent world events and we always think that this kind of thing only happens so far from home.

I was stunned when my boss called me this morning to let me know about the explosions in London. She was calling me to warn me of airport chaos since I'm flying through Heathrow this afternoon on my way to Munich. I immediately thought of friends that I have in London, as well as many people that I work with - most of whom take the tube to work everyday.

I was looking at the tube map of affected stations. I had a job interview just outside one of the stations and I stayed at a hotel around the corner from another one of the stations just two months ago.

It's so close to home.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/4659093.stm

United Nations

2005-07-07T08:53:00.000Z

An American, Canadian, Irish woman, Brit, and Frenchman are on a conference call. The American says to the Irish woman (my boss), "hey congratulations to you guys for winning the Olympic games." Needless to say, it did not go over well. She starts going off, and then you hear giggling on the other end of the phone, which was the Brit. The funniest part was that the American made this comment right after the Frenchman came on to the call and announced himself.

I had to put the phone on mute, I was laughing so hard. 10 points to the American for that brilliant double play.

Lifestyles of the Stupidly Rich

2005-06-22T10:28:00.000Z

I was in Monaco the other week for work. I know, it’s a tough life. It was definitely a glimpse into how the other half live. When I say “other half”, I mean the astronomically rich section of the population. On my first day there, I had some time in the afternoon to myself so I took the opportunity to check the place out and enjoy the warm sunshine. I decided I wanted to get some lunch, so I went off in search of a place that had baguettes. I did find a lunch place, but it would have been much easier had I decided I wanted caviar for lunch instead. I didn’t walk around the whole Principality, but I would bet that there isn’t a McDonald’s outlet there. However, should your infant need new clothes, there is Baby Dior, and Baby Dolce & Gabbana. The Bentley dealership is on the same street as the Lamborghini and Rolls Royce dealerships. Something tells me they don’t take trade-ins on Renaults. Though you can’t fit a whole boat in a showroom, there was also what I assume to be a yacht store on the same strip. Later, I walked by a residence with both a Rolls and a Lamborghini in the driveway. Showoffs.

Monaco is built into a side of a hill, and there are public elevators that take you up from one street level to another. You walk in through a doorway cut into the hill, get in the elevator, and walk out on the next level. I guess that’s because rich people can’t walk uphill and risk getting sweat stains on their Prada, but I thought it was really cool.

Monaco has a very high proportion of good-looking people. Compared to Ireland, continental Europe is a total smorgasbord of yumminess in general, but people in Monaco really work on their tans and physiques – or pay a doctor to carve out the look for them. The porter at the hotel was a dead ringer for the guy from Nip/Tuck, which is a nice switch from the pasty-skinned, Guinness-bellied specimens I see on the DART every morning.

After quickly deciding that shopping would be no fun without my black Amex card, I went down to the beach to lie in the sun. I was dozing off when I heard an increasingly loud hum. I opened my eyes to see that a gleaming white yacht had drifted into my view. By yacht, I mean an Onassis-esque city block-sized yacht. The hum was coming from a helicopter that was about to land on the yacht. It too was gleaming white, and once it landed, you could tell that this chopper went with the boat – as a set.

The night of the event, we entertained our clients with a beach bbq. Afterwards, everyone piled into the hotel bar for some more drinks. I can’t wait until finance sees my expense report this month. One gin & tonic is 12 Euro at the hotel bar, and I bought a few rounds for the clients. While at least they’re not serving Cork Dry for that price, they’re not serving No.10 either.

Some of the group went next door to Jimmyz – a nightclub on the Kate Moss celebrity-league circuit. The people I was sitting with didn’t really want to head over. I had to start work at 8am the next day and it wasn’t exactly our scene. As 3am started to creep up on us, the topic came up again, but we decided that it was our last drink and after that we were heading to bed. 4.30am rolls around and we’re still in the hotel bar drinking – so much for being sensible and going to bed. The next day, the others who went to the nightclub were equally groggy. They didn’t get back until 5am – and they got to meet Bono. You know, if you’re going to be up all night drinking, it might as well be because you were in a Monégasque nightclub with Bono, because that’s how I would have phrased it in retelling the story. As it is, I only have a Bono near-miss story, which is really quite pathetic.

The next day, we left the twilight zone and I celebrated return to normality with a two-Euro glass of house red in Nice.

Things I miss

2005-06-21T09:04:00.000Z

It's been really warm in Ireland for the past week. It's been sunny and warm and there hasn't been a drop of rain. All in all, I've been really content with the weather for once. The Irish will tell you that it's scorching, but let's not go crazy here. I'm not wearing shorts and sweating or having trouble sleeping, I'm wearing a t-shirt with capri pants and carrying a cardigan with me.

This weekend was the perfect weekend to sit outside on a patio. It felt like the first warm spring day in Canada - the day that everyone knocks off work early and heads for a patio to celebrate that summer is indeed on its way.

However, as I learned this weekend, Dublin is sorely lacking in patios. Granted Dublin doesn't have the sidewalk space that Toronto has, and there certainly isn't a patio season like there is in Canada, but despite these two limitations, the Dublin patio offerings are still pretty lame. If a bar has a "patio" (read: three tables on the sidewalk), it is invariably in the shade where it is pretty chilly. The patios are not cordoned off so people are literally walking over your feet as they pass by. There are maybe two decent ones in the city so they fill up very early.

What no proprietor has seemed to discover as yet is the rooftop patio. I think that Dublin rooftops are perfect for a nice patio - and there would be a chance of getting some sunshine on the roof as opposed to sitting at a table in a narrow alley. However, no one has set one up, which makes me believe that they're probably not allowed because of fears that drunk Irish would pitch themselves - or others off of the roofs. The state might have a point with that one.

So in the meantime, on a rare nice Irish day, I'm left reminiscing about Barney's, TJ Baxters, the Madison, Hemingways, or the Pilot.

Things I Like

2005-06-14T08:48:00.000Z

Diving into the sea and coming up with the taste of salt on your lips.

Canadian Rules Drinking

2005-05-16T17:48:00.000Z

It was a scorcher of a day in London on Sunday - well, a scorcher for the UK anyway. I was having a drink with a friend in Covent Garden and the sun was beating hot on our faces as we stood a patio. Considering how seldom this happens in the UK, it was pretty glorious. My friend then asked me if I have ever been to the Maple Leaf bar around the corner - it's a Canadian pub. I had heard of it, but had never been.

So off we went. As you walk in, it's exactly what you would expect of a Canadian pub. There is Canadian memorabilia everywhere - hockey sweaters, a fake stuffed bear, and the obligatory wood cabin motif. We got up to the bar, and I checked out the beer on offer. I knew that no self-respecting Canadian pub wouldn't have Moosehead, Labatt's or Molson's, but I was truly impressed to see Sleeman's Honey Brown - on tap. We got a table and noticed there was a hockey game on TV - Sweden vs. Russia, the bronze medal game of the World Championships. I was feeling pretty nostalgic by this time. Here I am on a beautiful day drinking Sleemans and watching a hockey game that was simulcast from TSN. It nearly brought tears to my eyes.

As the gold medal game was showing right aftwards, the pub was filling up rather quickly with Canadians wearing either red, hockey jerseys, or Roots gear. This last one caused a couple of sniggers to escape from my friend's mouth. He's Australian, and where he comes from, "to root" means to have sex, and not in that expression-of-lifelong-love-and-commitment sort of way.

It was a bit of a homecoming for me. The menu offers wings, nachos, quesadillas, as well as the ubiquitious burgers and fish n chips. The salsa is spicy in the Maple Leaf bar, unlike in many British establishments. The staff are all Canadian, and when someone asked the floor manager the score of the hockey game, he replied that "Sweden is getting totally hammered." I heard someone say that they were out of maple syrup, and someone else was eating a Crispy Crunch. I was wondering where you could buy the Crispy Crunch bars, when my friend told me that there is a Canada store next door with all "Canadian stuff" for sale, like KD and Twizzlers. I'm sure it's ridiculously expensive though.

Everyone in the place really looked Canadian. You can definitely tell the difference in looks between a Canadian and Brits or Irish. I've discussed this with a few friends here and it's widely agreed that most Canadians - at least the ones over here, naturally look healthy and sporty. Compared to the pasty pallour of many Brits and Irish, Canadians perpetually look like they just came back from a hike. My Aussie friend agreed that the crowd in the bar that afternoon did have an overall freshly-scrubbed, healthy appearance.

I really wanted to stay, it was going to be a great night, you could tell. But it was not to be. I had a flight to catch back to Dublin in a few hours. I was so disappointed.

Even though nearly everyone in the bar probably works in London, and aren't just passing tourists, Canadian rules definitely still apply there - despite being located in the heart of Covent Garden. I was up at the bar waiting to get served, and a man came up after me. When the bartender asked for his order first, he said that I should go ahead. No Brit does that. A Brit goes ahead and orders, and then turns around and apologises. A group of people asked us if we were staying for the game, and when I said no I had to catch a flight, they asked if they could have our seats when we were done - but no rush. One of the guys volunteered to send me a text with the score since I had to leave - and he did. I got a text after every period. As we were leaving, a couple noticed us getting up from our chairs and asked if they could have our seats. I said that someone else already had dibs, and they accepted that response and politely moved on.

Something tells me I'll be watching other sporting events from those screens in the near future - or maybe checking to see if they are having a Thanksgiving dinner. When I move over to London in September, I already have a hangout.

Wow

2005-05-09T19:34:00.000Z

At 2.40pm EDT, I became an aunt for the first time.

I was just packing up my things to go home when the email came through my inbox. It's a girl. I have since talked to my sister-in-law, my brother and my dad. I haven't seen pictures yet, but I'm assured that she's cute. I can't wait to meet her.

Shifting Gears

2005-05-09T17:56:00.000Z

My Grandma's only wish is to get some holy water from Knock, which is a town in the north-west of Ireland. In religious pilgrimage circles, it's apparently right up there with Lourdes and Fatima. To mark the site of where an apparition appeared, there is a cathedral, a new church, an outdoor auditorium, a large-scale outdoor stations of the cross, a huge granite rosary, and a row of cisterns dispensing holy water. Just around the corner, there is a spin-off industry of religious souvenirs – plastic holy water bottles in the shape of the Virgin Mary, rosaries, commemorative plaques from Pope John Paul II's visit in 1979, and various statues. As you can imagine, I put off this trip for a few months. Knock just wasn't appealing to me, and to go there in the winter, even less so. However, when I saw my parents in April, they reminded me of my promise to get some holy water, and as my Grandma is 96, I thought I really should do it sooner rather than later. As far as trips were concerned, the guilt trip was a resounding success.

My first thought was that I could take a bus from Dublin, but I envisioned it being a long ride, with probably at least one stopover. Then I thought, how long would I have to wait in Knock before getting the next bus out of there, once I obtained the sought-after holy water? Renting a car seemed to be a more practical and pleasant option.

However, it's quite difficult to rent an automatic car in Europe. Some places don't have one at all, and if you do get one, it's much more expensive. The friendly sales clerk at Enterprise told me all about their special bank holiday weekend offer: 90 Euro for four days. Of course, that's with a manual transmission. So how much was it if I upgraded to an automatic? They don't have automatics. He didn't even think he could order one in from somewhere else for me. I politely declined, but then he offered a driving lesson in the parking lot as well. Either the Celtic Tiger truly is dead and they're desperate for business, or I've found the only helpful salesperson in Dublin, and I hated the thought of not rewarding that by going elsewhere. I made a quick call to Europcar, and an automatic started at 145 Euro. So, I thought about it. There are plenty of truly brutal drivers on the road, far worse than I am, and many of them manage to drive standards just fine. I consider myself a good driver, and it completely bothers me that I can't drive standard. I'm not useless, so I figured that it's a matter of just doing it and if I'm by myself with the car, I'll have no choice. I can't bail when I get to a tricky area, or if I get frustrated. So, I took my business to Enterprise.

I told a friend at work about my plans. His only words to me were, “you're crazy.” One night we went out for a drink and he pulled over in the parking lot and told me to start driving. We just went around the parking lot because he was too nervous to let me out on the road. Still, it was most helpful for me to get used to shifting gears with my left hand, and he taught me how to get started again once stopped on a hill, which is one of the worst things about driving standard in my opinion. He showed me how to use the hand brake to keep me in place until I've stepped on the gas so I don't roll back. I was never taught that back home, so I think it's probably cheating a bit, but it came in handy a few times that weekend. Oh and before my mom starts wondering if I was holding out when I said I didn't have a boyfriend, he's gay.

It turned out that I had to work in the south-west the day before I was to leave on my trip, so I picked up the car early and drove down instead of taking the train, and coming back to Dublin only to drive out west again that night. When I got to the rental, they offered extra insurance so I wouldn't have to pay a deductible if I got in an accident or if I scratched the car in any way. Sign me up! Of course, my 90 Euro deal wasn't so much of a deal anymore, but I had already decided that I was going to purchase the extra insurance and not stress out about getting a scratch on the car on the ridiculous Irish roads. The friendly Enterprise clerk also had some great news for me. Because I've rented from them before in Canada, they're giving me an upgrade. Instead of the Nissan Micra I requested, I got an Almera. I really wanted the Micra. I wanted the smallest car possible because Irish roads are only the width of 1.5 cars in some places. Furthermore, if they only knew that this weekend was the Great All-Ireland Standard Driving Experiment, they wouldn't want to give me the upgrade. I do have to say though that the Almera was great. By the end of the weekend, I was quite attached to my coffee-coloured hatchback.

In order for me to get to the highway, I had to drive back into the city – in morning rush hour traffic. I really didn't think I was ready for yet – there is just too much stopping and starting, which means shifting. In my mind, the whole trick to driving a standard is just not stopping. I looked at the map. There was only one other option – to drive over the Wicklow mountains. The roads would be small and windy, but there would be hardly any other drivers on the road. My decision was made. I would tackle the small, windy roads head on and go over the Wicklow Gap. I should mention that as you go over the Wicklow Gap, the roads are very narrow, very steep, very windy, and there isn't a lot of margin for error. At one point, there is a steep drop off to one side, with no guardrail and no shoulder. Of course, right at that moment, I had to pull right over (steep drop side) to let a tour bus pass, and when I started up again, had to do the handbrake thing to keep from sliding back – because I had no room to slide back (unless I really wanted to slide – all the way down the hill). Are there any civil engineers in Ireland and what kind of ass-backward road building is this anyway? But obviously I made it. It would have been difficult in an automatic, and I did it in a standard.

As the weekend went on, I grew more confident. I got through rush hour traffic, and I also made it across a crowded bridge over the River Shannon in Killaloe and Ballina. The bridge was built in the 1300s (I think), so it's the exact width of two modern cars (not trucks) plus the width of an average person on each side. There was a lot of traffic going both ways, people walking alongside the cars, and of course, a tractor coming in the opposite direction. I didn't even stall once!

So of course, as I grew more confident, I went on more difficult roads. I was driving through Southern Clare trying to get to the coast road. I took a turn where I thought the sign was pointing to the coast road, but as it turned into a dirt road, I decided that I didn't really want to go down there. I tried to make a U-turn, and misjudged how much room I had, and hit the grass embankment on the other side. As it had been raining, the edges of the road were mucky, and when I put the car into reverse I slid forward further into the embankment and the wheels started to spin. At this point, I was very glad I purchased the extra insurance. I just got out of the car to investigate when a car full of girls pulled up. They had room to get around me, so I waved them by, but they stopped to see if I needed help. I said I was stuck, to which the driver said, “c'mon girls, let's push.” No sooner were they out of the car, when a father and son pulled up from the opposite direction and a farmer came walking across the field. They managed to push my car out easily enough, and I was on my way. I hadn't seen a soul for miles before this moment, which makes me wonder, were they watching me from their windows?

I had further evidence of this a day later, when I was near the Cliffs of Moher, also in Clare. I was told that the view from Hag's Head is even better and to get up there, you drive up a path just past a guest house, park at the top of the hill and walk out to the end. I found the path easily enough, and then when I got to the top, there were three “roads” leading out towards the edge. I took the one I thought most likely. I thought I had been driving for a bit too long, and that surely the directions could have been more detailed, when the “road” I was on suddenly turned into a rutted, dirt road. I started to think that this was not a good thing and maybe I should turn around, but there was no place to turn at all. I went a bit further and found myself facing a fence. I couldn't go further, and I couldn't turn around. So, I put the car in reverse and started to back up. I will say one thing about the Almera - it's awkward to get a good view out the back window when reversing for a stretch. I hit a rut, and while trying to straighten the car again, I hit an embankment. Again, I gave myself a pat on the back for springing for the extra insurance. No sooner did this happen when a car came up behind me. I got out to signal that this really wasn't the right road to be on. A farmer got out of the car and said, “looks like youre having some trouble” and helped to pushed me out. Do they have telescopes at their windows, or did his cousins in South Clare call ahead and warn him of my impending arrival? Either way, I was grateful that the folks in rural Clare know when a stranger is in town and that she doesn't know how to drive.

By the end of my weekend, I was shifting and parking with the best of them. As I drove into Dublin to return the car, I was a bit sad, but also felt a real sense of accomplishment. I miss having a car and I miss driving. If I were to stay here (big IF), and if I were to get a car, I could probably get a standard. I'm pretty comfortable with it now, and whatever discomfort I still have, I know would go away soon enough with daily practice. However, I still bow at the feet of the man who invented the automatic transmission. Really, it's so much easier.

Oh, and my two mishaps in Clare didn't leave any scratches.

Slip Sliding Away

2005-04-26T08:31:00.000Z

I had dinner with a Canadian friend of mine who has been living in Dublin for four years now. We were talking about upcoming visits home. She's going home for a week in May as she found a really cheap ticket on a charter. Unfortunately, I couldn't go at that time because I have a big event coming up the first weekend in June and can't take the two weeks before the event off. There is no point in me going home before the end of May because that's when my brother and his wife are having their first baby. I want to see the baby, not see her hugely pregnant.

Last week, I asked for the second week of June off. The ticket isn't so cheap anymore, but it's still reasonable - especially considering the time of year. Well, I was turned down. I kind of knew I might be, as I knew my coworker was going to hand in her notice yesterday and I would be leaving at a really busy time - it always is immediately post-event. I was, however, hoping that my bosses would be optimistic that my coworker would be staying on after all and let me have the week off. Now that my coworker is definitely quitting, I have little chance of taking time off before the end of the summer. I'm going to ask for 10 days off at the end of June and hopefully come home for Canada Day weekend - the price of the ticket is still under EURO 500. However, if I'm turned down for those days, I'm stuck because flights are really expensive from then until September. I'm kind of bummed about that. I really want to see the baby, and I don't know that I can go home in September. I'm still thinking about moving over to the UK in a couple of months, and once I do that, the travelling will have to come to an end for awhile. It will be more expensive over there at first and I might go over there without a job lined up. I wanted to get the visit in before I moved.

Our discussion turned towards the dilemma that I think many expats face. What to do with one's vacation time - do you go home every chance you get, or do you take advantage of where you are and travel as much as possible while you have the chance? I know that to my friends and family back home, I'm going to start sounding like a spoiled European here. I have four weeks vacation a year, not to mention all those bank holidays, and yet, it's just not enough. I am conscious of the fact that I'm very lucky to have this much time. If I were in Canada, I would be slogging it out for eight paltry statuatory holidays and 10 vacation days a year. There would be no question about what to do with my whopping ten days if I were an expat in Canada - if I were lucky enough to be able to take them all at once.

But I digress. When I asked my friend how long she was going home for, she said just a week. I too, was planning to go for a week - well 10 days to get two weekends at home. I thought about going for longer, but then I would be using up all my vacation time on going home, when I factor that I will probably go home for two weeks at Christmas. Yet, by choosing to go home in June and again at Christmas, I'm saying no to a family cottage weekend in August, a friend's wedding in September, and Thanksgiving. I'm also saying no to a longer vacation somewhere else. Though I have been taking advantage of my proximity to Continental Europe by taking a few extended weekends, I have not done a big trip over here yet - except when I went to Portugal for a week last year. So far in 2005, I have been to Switzerland, Amsterdam and Tuscany for 4-5 days each. Next weekend for the May bank holiday (yup another one), I'm going to the West of Ireland. I'll be in London and Belfast sometime next month, and in June I'm going to Monaco and the South of France for a few days. Mind you, I'm going to London and Monaco for work, but I'm staying over through the weekend each time to take advantage of the fact that the company is paying for my flight. However, though I'm great with the weekend trips, the fact that I'm going home twice this year precludes the possibility of taking a longer trip here. I can get to Vilnius or Riga for less than EURO 300, and I would love to do a trip through the Baltic states and also on to St. Petersburg. Or perhaps a trip through the Balkans - Slovenia, Croatia, and Serbia. With the expansion of the EU, there are more flights than ever to many Eastern European cities like Budapest, Prague, Warsaw, and Bratislava. There are also plenty of cheap flights to Bankok from London. I have so many options over here that I wouldn't have if I was living back home.

However, there is a definite draw to visiting home. I definitely have roots there, and I get excited at the thought of seeing familiar faces and catching up with everyone. I think about all the old haunts that I would visit, and how I would get my fill of things that I miss. I'm also conscious of the fact that as I am here longer, it's harder to keep up with everyone and everything back home. It's so easy to let it all slip, and because I'm the one that's not there, it's up to me to keep up the relationships. I don't want to return home in a couple of years to find all my friendships have been dissolved and everyone has moved on because I failed to keep them up while I was away.

Am I being selfish to want it both ways?

Not of the family fold

2005-04-21T17:13:00.000Z

I've alluded before to the fact that Ireland is a pretty exclusionary place. The legendary friendliness of the Irish is about as real as leprechauns. Sure, if you come over for a visit, you'll run into some real down-home Irish folk who will talk to you as you sit in the pub, or chat with you as you stand in line. They'll also stop to give you directions - sometimes. What I'm talking about, though, is a real friendliness - a desire to become friends with someone, not just the surface stuff. In that regard, the Irish are not friendly at all. Many people in Dublin go home to the country every weekend. They only work and crash during the week in Dublin - they live in the country. Therefore, it's not worth their while to make friends with anyone in the city. It's especially not worth their while to make friends with someone who just moved here and might be leaving at any given time. Most people here have the same friends as when they were four. I can't compete with that, and nor do I necessarily want to, but you can definitely tell that for many people, there just isn't time or room for newbies.

Often, when meeting new people, I inevitably get asked when I'm going home. I often get the impression that I'm not asked out of interest, but in order for them to gauge how much effort they should put into getting to know me better. After over a year in Dublin, I have one Irish friend.

The simple response to this is "join a club". Well I've tried that. It's actually easier said than done here. I work in the sticks, so by the time I arrive back in the city after work, many courses have already started - including the French class that I took last year and would like to build upon. I've looked into taking a writing or editing course, but despite this being the land of the Celtic Tiger, it's actually hard to find information online about taking a part-time degree course without enrolling into a full program. I know I should probably call the Universities, for info, but well, that's just hard isn't it. Working in high-tech, and being from North America, I am of the opinion that if an organisation doesn't have the proper information easily accessible online, then they just can't be very good. I've looked into joining a hill walking group, but any web sites I've checked aren't exactly advertising for new members. You have to apply for membership, and if they like you and you're compatible, you can come out for a "test walk", and if they still like you, you're in. They all sound very exclusionary about how the members have all been together for several years, and new members are elected by committee, but I'm sure it's more likely that new members are only elected if they know someone in the club already. I tried to join a tag rugby team as well. On the web site, it says that if you're a player looking to join a team, click on the link to enroll once the season opens. Well, once the season opened the link was removed from the web site. I emailed in my interest instead, but was told to apply through the web site. When I replied that the link wasn't set up, I didn't get a response and it wasn't fixed until all spots were "full". I think it was intentional. I think they actually only allow individuals to join if existing teams are crying out for additional players.

Everything I've experienced here tells me that people just don't want to open their doors to newcomers. Many foreigners I've encountered here have expressed the same difficulties. Many have said that when trying to join clubs, they get the impression that they are turned away because they're foreign. Of course, most foreigners want to join clubs because they're used to a more active lifestyle than what can be found here, they tire easily of going to the pub all the time, and they're looking to meet people and make friends. However, having two Poles, a Slovakian, a French person and an American in one's hill walking club would certainly change the personality of it, and I can see why some people would be reluctant to let that happen.

Someone at work alerted me to a tag rugby team that was being formed through one of the other offices. I expressed interest and filled out the questionnaire. Then I heard nothing for over a month, so I just figured that I didn't meet their criteria (ie. I'm not Irish). Yesterday, the captain wrote to me saying that he's having difficulty with my registration. The company we work for is sponsoring the team, however the stipulation is that all team members must be permanent employees. I'm a contractor. Therefore, I can't be on the team. He's apparently asked for an exception, but what it looks like is that I will be able to join, but will have to pay extra as the sponsorship amount will be lessened since they're only sponsoring the actual employees and not me. It's so frigging ridiculous. The fact that after nine months I still haven't been made permanent is annoying enough, but a whole other story which I may or may not write about. However, what gets me the most is that every day in my email and other communications, I keep getting all this BS about how they want all people working here to feel welcome and at home and take part in company activities. I don't see why someone who has been working with the company on a perma-temp basis should be excluded from that. I work alongside everyone else, I put just as much in, I keep being told to "get involved", but then when I try to do so, I'm turned down. It makes me wonder whether I'm not better off at a company like Microsoft where the perma-temps are almost completely segregated from the regular employees instead of this half-and-half stuff. For an American company, it's so Irish - friendly, but not too friendly.

All I want is to belong to something.

Deep Thoughts

2005-04-19T17:28:00.000Z

I've noticed that many taxi and bus drivers make the sign of the cross when approaching an intersection.

It doesn't inspire confidence. I would rather they put their faith in their defensive driving skills.

Stray Cat Strut

2005-04-05T12:05:00.000Z

In Ireland, most houses don't have screens on the windows. It's annoying. When you open the window, there is no screen between you and the great outdoors, which means, bugs and critters are free to come inside. Mind you, they don't have mosquitoes or flies in Ireland the way we do back home, but they do have moths, bees, and rodents. It just makes me feel uneasy. Even though my bedroom is upstairs in the house, my window opens out over the sun room, and I remember thinking that it would be very easy for a mouse or squirrel to come into my room from the roof of the sun room.

It was fairly warm in Ireland over the weekend, and as my room is south-facing, when the sun does actually shine here, my room gets very warm. I left my window open at night on the weekend because it was so stuffy otherwise. Well, on Saturday night I was woken up when some critter came in through my window, crawled over my legs and onto the floor. I started screaming, I was terrified. I just saw a fat, black shape with a tail and thought it was a giant rat. The creature jumped back over my bed and back out through the window, which was when that I realized it was a neighbourhood cat. I'm pretty sure it belongs to someone in the neighbourhood, but I would say it's more a semi-stray cat as it spends most of its time in all the neighbourhood yards and I'm not sure it's fed regularly and I'm positive it doesn't have all its shots.

I closed the window after it, and it tried to get in again a couple of times that night, which makes me wonder if it was chasing a mouse when it came inside my window. There is a ledge near my window that separates the sun room from the kitchen and it sat on there staring into my window for a long time. I know this because I was awake the rest of the night staring back. It goes without saying that I have a serious case of the willies – and not just because of the possibility of a mouse in my room. Cats just creep me out.

While it doesn't get much warmer in Ireland than the 16C it was on Saturday, it bothers me that I can't open my window anymore unless it's daylight and I'm in the room. My room gets very hot – even by my standards, and I would like to air my room out, but there's *no way* I'm letting this happen again. I can't see a conceivable way to get a screen attached to my window either without getting the whole window replaced. I'm currently looking into getting a safety latch, like they would have for people with young children, so that my window can only be opened a little bit.

Not having screens isn't unique to Ireland; lots of European countries don't have window screens on the houses – even the modern ones. I don't get it. Isn't anyone concerned about rodents - or evil stray cats?

More Grey Matter

2005-04-04T11:20:00.000Z

Terri Schiavo has now died. I think this whole story emphasizes the importance of a living will – because you just don’t know what's going to happen. However, I think the story is really sad and tragic. I don’t want to get into the possible ulterior motives of her husband or the loss that her family feels. Nor do I want to speculate on whether or not it was possible for her condition to improve after 15 years, or pontificate on the supposed "slippery slope" that the US has just stepped on in allowing her to die.

I think what's most sad and tragic about this is that it turned Ms. Schiavo into a pawn for the political agenda of the right wing. Anyone who thinks Bush actually cares about the sanctity of all human life should look at his capital punishment record while he was Governor of Texas. Ditto for brother Jeb in Florida. Not to mention that Bush sent scores of America's Sons & Daughters over to Iraq to fight a war based on false pretenses. Oh yeah, Bush cares – it has nothing to do with paying back his right-wing Christian Coalition cronies. Also, Tom DeLay, House Majority Leader, agreed, along with the rest of his family, not to put his father on dialysis when his kidneys failed and had a "Do Not Resuscitate" order for him back in 1988. You’ll remember that DeLay called removing Schiavo's breathing tube and "act of barbarism" and championed a political intervention in the case. But I'm sure that has nothing to do with wanting to deflect attention away from mounting allegations regarding his slimy dealings.
http://www.democrats.org/specialreports/delaycasefile/index.html

I don't have a living will yet, but I intend to make one. I don't know at what line I want to die but I know that I don't want to be in a persistent vegetative state for 15 years, with no chance of getting better. I don’t want to be a drain on my family and I don't want them to remember me more for my vegetative state than when I was actually alive. At the same time, I want to make sure I've been given every chance to recover and rehabilitate before someone decides to pull the plug.

I think medical advancements have outstripped dying with dignity. It is possible to keep someone alive purely by artificial means for years with no chance of them living without the machines or regaining consciousness. I also don't think there is a slippery slope. We're not going to start killing off the Down's Syndrome kids and then start marching the Jews back to the gas chamber.

One thing I am very clear about in my mind, however, is that if members of my family ever debate over whether I should be allowed to die, and I somehow become a cause célèbre for the political right as a result (which would be hard because I'm Canadian, but if it happens), remove my feeding tube immediately. I absolutely refuse to be a pawn for the Christian Coalition, right-wing political agenda. If my family ever does let it get to that stage, and allows the fate of my being become a media circus where all the usual suspects (Jesse Jackson, Diane Sawyer, Barbara Walters, Republican Party) gather to bask in the spotlight, you can bet that when I do die, they'll have to answer to me on the other side. In fact, if they do let that happen, and they then follow my wishes to have my feeding tube removed, I am also requesting that they read the above statement to the press – on Fox News.

Come to think of it though, what’s worse? Being a cause célèbre for the American right, or a martyr for them?

Good article from the St. Petersburg (Florida) Times – found on michaelmoore.com
http://www.michaelmoore.com/words/index.php?id=2071

In my Grey Matter

2005-03-31T08:06:00.000Z

The Republicans, the oil industry, and SUV owners everywhere scored a major victory the other day when the Senate voted to open the Alaska wildlife refuge to oil drilling. Mind you, congress still needs to approve the budget, but this is a major step. I know this is a case of a short-term solution, and people being blind to the long-term implications, but do these people not see that we need to come up with real alternatives to oil, not mine the last reserves in ecologically sensitive areas out of some desperation to keep gas prices down so we can continue to drive our monster SUVs that measure mileage in terms of gallons to the mile, and not vice versa.

Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who thinks that we're headed for a major collapse very quickly. I know I'm not the only one, but I feel like I'm the only one who is not a tree-hugging, Birkenstock-wearing, non-hair washing, granola-eating, environmental, save-the-spotted-oil person. Recently, I have heard a few different reports saying that the world can conceivably run out of oil in my lifetime. One report says that've we've peaked now and if we keep up the current pace, we can expect to run out in 40 years. Others predict that we'll run out of oil by 2070. Either way, we're not talking about keeping the planet in good condition for our grandchildren, as the African proverb dictates, but keeping the planet in good condition for ourselves.

On the other side of the fence, these reports are pooh-poohed as doomsday scenarios - it will never happen. Alternative sources will be developed, and then they point out that we already have a hybrid car. What they don't consider is the following: it would take several years to develop alternative sources so that they're truly viable and affordable. If we don't bother doing so until there are severe oil shortages, it would create huge global instability. The time for developing these alternatives is now - not when the price of gas is $7 a gallon and the price of food and home heating is out of reach of most middle-class families. Another thing that isn't considered is that the economies of India and China are rapidly growing. Most people in both countries do not own cars....but what happens when they want to own cars?

Click on link to see image that illustrates my point. After that, click on "Park This" on the right hand side.
http://www.howies.co.uk/think.php?id=15&category=cars

I think people believe that oil won't run out in their lifetime so it's not their problem, which is entirely selfish in itself - what about their children, neices, nephews, grandchildren? However, I also think that people believe that if and when the world runs out of oil, it will be a hard stop. They'll keep living the way they're accustomed to with cheap gas, cheap flights, efficient home heating, plentiful food, and then one day there will be no more oil, but they won't be around for that, because it won't happen in their lifetime. In reality though, there will first be an increase in gas prices, then an increase in prices for food, heating, public transportation. We'll complain, we'll demand that our government DO something, we'll go on news segments of CITY-TV and say that if this keeps up, we'll have to trade in our SUV for something more economical. We'll support the US government when they invade Iraq for sitting on top of our oil. Oh wait....

But after that, we'll have severe shortages. I don't think people realise just how dependent we are, and I'm not talking about our right to take Hayley and Cody to soccer practice in a four-tonne bohemouth instead of insisting they ride their bikes there. Many communities in North America don't even have sidewalks anymore. Public transportation has been hit by cutbacks in my municipal governments. Some communities don't even have public transportation at all. We're dependent on oil (or natural gas) for home heating, food production - how else do you think those farmers drive the tractors, and manufacturing. Most plastics are made with oil. Its safe to say that our entire way of living as we know it revolves around the black stuff. Still, it floors me when someone says to me with a straight face: "I don't feel guilty about driving my SUV. I pay more in gas so I'm therefore paying higher taxes." Uhhh, what about the term non-renewable resource. Grade 4 geography class? Ring any bells? Or "I'm a Republican, but a good one - I'm just fiscally Republican, I don't approve of the far right agenda in terms of social issues. Yes I voted for Bush, but not because of the social issues." If you voted for Bush, you voted for the senator in South Carolina who thinks gay teachers should be banned from teaching, and the senator in Oklahoma who believes in the death penalty for abortion doctors, and yes if you voted for Bush, you voted for big oil and the destruction of the environment. You knew it was on the agenda, and you knew that he would pay his cronies back in his second term of office. Often in politics, voting is more about choosing the lesser of two evils than anything else, and I'm not saying that the world would be a much more different place if Kerry was president, but at least there would be a chance of it with him.

Just so you don't think that I've pulled my "doomsday scenario" out of thin air, I've included some links below. You'll notice that three of the four are from mainstream news sources. Like with fashion trends, once it hits the mainstream, it's history.

http://edition.cnn.com/2003/WORLD/europe/10/02/global.warming/
http://www.energybulletin.net/4835.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/3623549.stm
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A17039-2004Jun4.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/03/25/opinion/25deffeyes.html?th&emc=th

I'll get to it....mañana

2005-03-24T19:53:00.000Z

If there's one thing about Irish people, is that they'll get to something.....mañana. Sometimes that's endearing. There's something nice about not taking time to relax, be social and not rushing to a deadline. However, I'm from Canada, and being so close to the US, mañana is often a bad word. While I like the easy-going nature of the Irish, it really gets on my nerves sometimes....especially when part of my kitchen ceiling is all over the floor due to a leak in the shower upstairs.

We have a few plumbing problems in the apartment. First off, the taps in the kitchen need to be fixed. I called about it two months ago, and someone was supposed to come out. Now, we're not talking about a little drip here. We're talking about the Irish Sea emptying out into the sink. As of last month, the hot water tap in the kitchen is broken completely.

Now the tricky thing about the Irish is that if they sense that you're annoyed and impatient when they're giving you the song and dance about why they can't/won't do something, they're less likely to do it. I have to admit that managing to not get annoyed and appear completely sympathetic to their Joycean yarns is an art form I haven't mastered yet. When they're reciting a Finnegan's Wake-length story as to why they can't come until.....mañana, all I hear is no, I'm not doing it. I'm not interested in the reason, I'm interested in the action, but that might be the Canadian in me. In fact, what I've written above might be a telling clue. They're telling me that they can't do something. I'm hearing that they WON'T do something. Big difference. When I was little, when I asked my parents for something, and they would start to give me an indirect answer, I would say, "yes or no. Say yes." As a grown-up, the only thing that's changed is that I've learned to say that with my internal voice only.

Like I was saying, in my effort to embrace mañana, I haven't pressed too hard about the taps. Annoying? Yes, but I'm never home. Well, once the ceiling of our kitchen started to fall onto the floor, I had a falling out with mañana. I called my landlord and he gave me the number of the person who is supposed to come out and said that he would be here this week for sure.

I called this man because what I didn't want to happen is to hear the age-old Irish excuse, "I came round but no one was there to let me in so I'll have to come round again some other time." I wanted to know exactly when he was coming so that I could make sure someone was home. I wasn't encouraged by my conversation with "yer man there". When I told him about the leak in the shower, he said "yeah there is a leak there. It's been there awhile." I said, "yes and it's all over the kitchen floor now so it really should be fixed sooner rather than later." He said he "had it in his schedule." When I asked for the details of his schedule, asking "so what night this week will you be out so I can be sure to be home? I'll give you my mobile so you can call ahead so I can make sure to be there", but meaning "so what date in your Palm do you have us under because I think you're dicking me around", he got a bit beligerent with me. I crossed the mañana line. I went from asking really nicely and effectively that the work be done, to annoying, obnoxious American. To be fair, I'm probably at a disadvantage to begin with because I have the American accent so I don't do the "awww bless" stuff very well.

I've been told by a friend here that I'm probably too honest and frank for this country. I have a tendency to edit Finnegan's Wake down to one sentence, and I don't play along with their stories. It's like I was told that if you want someone to give you directions, in Canada you pull over and get to the point so no one thinks that you're actually going to rob them or waste their time. In Ireland, you pull over, start a conversation about the weather and 10 minutes later work in the fact that you're lost. I hear my colleague talking to people on the phone, and she's really good with the "Now pet, I know you're really busy, and you know yourself how it can be this time of year, but please appreciate..." I just don't have the patience. I've tried, but I can't do it. I get to the point where I get annoyed that they're wasting my time. They're telling me no and to add to the rejection, they're further wasting my time with the long-winded crapola story and it's cutting into my "how to I get around them" plotting that I have to do. At work, I've stopped asking the Irish brand managers for anything and have instead developed relationships with their bosses in the UK or the US. I've gotten some flak from them for it, but who cares? They don't get back to me so I see them as an obstacle that I've since removed. As far as I'm concerned, they can save the stories for the pub, I've got a job to do.

But I digress. The conversation with the man who is apparently the busiest handyman in Dublin ended with him telling me that IF he comes by, he'll call ahead. You would think he was very brilliant at his work to have such a packed schedule but in reality he is probably the landlord's brother-in-law or friend who has been asked to do this, and he can't be bothered because the rugby is on. That's how it works (or doesn't work) in Ireland. How the Celtic Tiger ever came to be in this land, I'll never figure out.

Well, now I've reached the end of my tether. As of last night we have no hot water at all. Now, if I wanted to live in a cold water flat, I would find myself a hovel that's far cheaper than the one I'm in now. Also, I'm sure you all know how I feel about cold showers in the morning. I went to the gym this morning for my shower. Luckily I have joined the posh gym near my house and the showers there are great! Not-so-luckily, it's rained solidly for the past week and the morning that I am walking to the gym in the lashing rain just to wash my hair is the day that I truly lose the rag. I called the landlord today, as well as the world's most popular handyman, and explained the situation. Now, the landlord has said he would come round tonight. We'll see.

I've approached my flatmates about setting a deadline of April 1st, coincidentally also April Fool's Day, and at that point, if nothing is done, then we call our own plumber and deduct it from our rent. I also want to withhold my rent payment on April 1st until the repairs are done. I've sent a letter to the housing tribunal today to find out my rights and to register my complaint. My flatmates are a little reluctant. They're afraid of being evicted. I don't care. If there is no hot water, I'm not staying there anyway, and I'm not going to find anyone to replace me. I would feel really dishonest about selling the benefits of the place to someone while neglecting to mention a tiny issue regarding no hot water. That can be my landlord's problem. That's another reason not to pay my rent on April 1st. I can tell him that if he's not going to get a plumber, then consider my deposit my last month's rent and find another sucker. I am marginally worried about coming home one night to find all my stuff on the street, but there are principles and hot showers at stake!

So here's the bigger dilemma. If I need to move, why would I move somewhere else in Dublin? Why don't I take this break now to move to the UK? This lack of hot water is really messing up my timing. I have a huge event at work coming up in June - in the South of France, and I want that under my belt before I move, but I won't be able to tolerate no hot water until then (and that's entirely foreseeable in Ireland, the magical land of leprauchans, plumbers, and other mythical creatures). Also, my friend just found a charter flight to Toronto for €240 return. That's an awesome deal! My flight to Rome next month was the same price! It's only for the month of May. I could go home and see the baby.....but not if I have to count on paying for a plumber in the hope of being reimbursed, or if I have to save up a deposit for a new apartment in April. The offer ends this weekend, but will my hot water be turned back on by then? Will I be able to cleanse myself of this water-borne dilemma?

Damn mañana. What's Irish for today?

Dreaming pt. 1

2005-03-17T10:36:00.000Z

Does anyone have childhood or adolescent experiences have really affected their adult life? I'm not talking about real scarring experiences like molestation, but everyday kid stuff that somehow hangs with you forever.

Two experiences have made me think about this lately. The first of which is something that a friend of mine wrote in her blog: http://mellowtrauma.blogspot.com

In her second entry, she writes about how she was gently told in school that maybe she shouldn't be in the choir, and how it has affected her to this day. I had a similar experience. When I was little, I loved to sing and sing at the top of my lungs. I sang in the car, I sang while riding my bike, I sang to my dolls, I sang while lying in bed before falling asleep. I was so out of tune, but I didn't know it, and I didn't care.

In the fifth grade, our class was entering the Kiwanis festival, which was a local music competition/festival. Our music teacher really wanted to win this competition and to do so we had to beat St. Mary's, the school for musically inclined children. Even though this competition was compulsory for the entire class, five of us were asked to mouth the words to the songs so that we had a chance of winning. I was one of those five, and the other four were boys whose voices had already started to change. I was so upset and humiliated. My dreams of being the next Debbie Harry were dashed forever. I also felt a raging sense of injustice. They were cheating. And I went to a Catholic school. Surely Jesus would not approve. I wanted my parents to tell Kiwanis about the scam. I wanted justice. I wanted to sing about the snake with the reticulated skin like the rest of the class! When I reacted by not participating in any of the rehearsals and rolling my eyes whenever the teacher looked my way, and when my mom wrote a letter of complaint, I was pulled aside and given the "importance of teamwork and maintaining a good attitude" speech. I was told that they understood that I was hurt, but 'for the good of the team' I was asked to 'not the rock the boat', and if I could not display my displeasure in class, that would be appreciated as it was not necessary for the rest of the class to know that we were asked to mouth the words. They also asked that it would be best if we didn't take it further because if we did, the rest of the class would suffer and it would be my fault that they were denied a chance at Kiwanis glory. I was 10. The fact that they would be seriously reprimanded for conspiring to cheat at a music festival and setting a poor example for their students was of course not mentioned as a reason why I should comply, and being 10, I didn't think they had any other motive besides my schoolyard well-being. Looking back on it, I wish I insisted to my parents that we take it further. They were poor excuses for teachers so I would have been doing future grade five students a favour, and two years after that, other events would occur that would cause me to hate pretty much everyone in my class anyways. I wouldn't have lost anything in the long run. I didn't show up the day of the festival, and two of the others who were asked to mouth the words didn't show up either. We did, however, show up for cake when the class won.

Ever since that time, I have been self-conscious of my singing. I stopped singing in public - at Church, at parties, in the car with other passengers. I don’t even sing "Happy Birthday" if I can help it. I like to sing. When I'm by myself, I can sing myself hoarse in the car, especially to the soundtrack from "Swingers." As for my dreams of being the next Debbie Harry, my rendition of "Call Me" is fantastic, if I may say so myself. I think it's sad that both my friend and I have been discouraged from singing by music teachers - and mine only because she felt inferior to her St. Mary's counterpart for chrissakes. I think it's great that she was willing to get up for karaoke - especially a song like "Don't Go Breaking My Heart." I would have chosen something like "Wooly Wooly" or "Wild Thing" because you don't have to be a good singer for those songs. In fact, I think "Wooly Wooly" is better when you're a crap singer, and I'm pretty sure you can speak the lyrics to "Wild Thing." I also would have needed much more than three pints and a shot of courage to get up there.

I was at a bar a couple of nights ago, and they had karaoke. A couple people were asking if I would go up, to which I replied, uh no. I took a look at the songbook, and "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" was in there. One of my friends got up twice. He sang "Daydream Believer" and "Mack the Knife." He was pretty good, but not an outstanding singer. What he lacks in formal training, he makes up for in chutzpah. What was most impressive was his lack of inhibition when it came to singing in public. When we heard it was karaoke night and he got right up and brought a songbook over to our table and started to pick out what he wanted to do. I envy that.

One day, I would like to put on some eyeliner and a miniskirt and belt out a Blondie tune - with Mrs. DelPellaro in the audience.

Greener Pastures?

2005-01-09T20:00:00.000Z

I would like to say that it's great to be back in Dublin, but it's not. I just came back from three weeks at home in Canada. I was so surprised at how great it was to be home. I have never felt like that coming back from a trip. I know for sure that Canada is my home. I guess the question now is when am I going home as opposed to if.

It was great to see friends and family again - to hang out at a friend's house and watch a movie, to go out for chicken wings and beer to catch up, and just to sit around with my parents watching TV. Even when I was not with friends and family, there was still a comfort level of home that surrounded my visit. When I went to Toronto for a couple of days, I went by train. I took the subway up to my cousin's place, where I would be staying. I was exiting the subway station when I saw the friend of another cousin of mine. I chatted with him for a couple of minutes. A little ways down the road, I saw someone else I knew - a guy from my soccer team a few years back was on the other side of the street. The next day, I went into a coffee shop. Not only could I get a coffee and sit down and read in peace (a rarity in the noisy, cold Dublin coffee shops), but the counter clerk was just so polite. I truly felt special, and I'm not being flippant. Being so used to surly wait staff, it was so nice to be served by someone pleasant - though I'm well aware of the fact that it's their job to be pleasant.

Canada really is a kinder, gentler place. I felt more relaxed there - like I didn't always have to be on the lookout for pickpockets and gangs of kids. I don't know if that's more due to the fact that there is just so much space in Canada, or if it's because there really isn't as much property crime. I'm inclined to believe the latter.

I am so American when it comes to shopping

2004-12-05T17:01:00.000Z

I think a lot of Canadians don't realise how culturally close we are to the US. I am often mistaken for American, but it doesn't bother me. Most people say 'sorry' when I correct them, but I'm never offended. In fact, I think, 'so what? I'm pretty close to it.' Canadians are really close to Americans when it comes to many things, but most especially one thing in particular - shopping.

Shopping is not a positive experience over here by any stretch of the imagination. It actually provokes violent thoughts in me. People push you out of the way as you're looking at merchandise, roll their eyes at you, and are generally rude and surly - and I'm only talking about the sales clerks here! I'm not joking. There have been several occasions where I've been nudged aside by a sales clerk while I'm looking at a rack so that she could tidy up or put something away. They don't say 'pardon me' or 'sorry', they just push in and 'do their job'. Fine, I don't have to look at the merchandise here, I can do that elsewhere.

I'm also not exaggerating about the eye-rolling. I was in McDonalds one day and I asked for my quarter pounder with no onions. The twerpy 16-year old had the cheek to roll her eyes. Now even in Dublin, I imagine that eye-rolling is against McDonald's global customer service policy. I thought to myself, just for that, if there are onions on my burger, I'm not picking them off. I'm asking for your manager and insisting on a new burger and an apology for my inconvenience. I don't like onions, ok? I have a right to have my burger my way. Or is that Burger King? It doesn't matter. I'm sure Ray Kroc is 0n my side with this one.

I've tried boycotting stores, and only shopping in stores where I get good customer service, but I've found that I just don't shop or buy anything at all now. There are about four stores in Dublin where you can get good merchandise and good customer service, but you have to pay a big premium for it - above and beyond average Dublin prices, which I really resent. Most sales clerks are too busy texting their friends to help anyone out, but last I checked their job titles were still 'sales associate'. It's kind of sad, but when I do get good service at a reasonable price here, it makes my day - like I'm really, really lucky or something. Sometimes I think that this town really needs a recession. Nothing like an economic downturn to separate the wheat from the chaff and make retail employees work to keep their jobs - and only keep them if they're good and retain the customers that are still buying. Too many kids working in this town have never seen a recession, have never competed for a job, and have never had to be good in order to be employed - and it really shows.

Another example: I was looking for a blazer, but they didn't have my size on display. I interrupted a sales clerk who was busy with her very important texting and politely asked her if there were any more of said model in the back. She said, she was pretty sure there were. I then asked her if she wouldn't mind looking to see if there was one in my size back there. Her response was, 'oh you know, I'm sure we don't have any back there'. Huh? That wasn't her answer a minute before I asked her to go look. I then asked her if that was because she just didn't want to check, to which I got a very snarky response. I will admit that I'm getting ruder and more pushy as a response to my surroundings. I can't say that I like this about myself, but whatever. I'm not taking shit from them.

However, the sales clerks can't take all the credit. Fellow Dubliners are just as much to blame. They're rude, loud and very pushy. By the time I make it down Grafton or Henry Street on a Saturday afternoon, I'm done in. However, it's not like there is much choice on when you shop because stores are never open. They're only open late on Thursdays so you can shop on Thursday night, Saturday or Sunday. It's crazy busy on all three days all year round. This time of year is even worse though. These days, people are using their strollers as bumper cars, refuse to move out of your way, and will literally shove you if you don't move out of theirs. Negotiating your way around is a veritable contact sport.

Another problem in Ireland is stock - there is none. Grocery shopping is a nightmare. One day, my flatmate asked me to pick up some milk and Tesco was sold out of semi-skim on a Saturday. I've also stopped eating salad because it's too hard to reliably find fresh vegetables. On several occasions I've walked in to the store to see that there is no lettuce today or no peppers. There is no reason for it except that it's Wednesday or that it's two hours before closing. If stores close at 6pm or 7pm, and most people work for a living, how can it be expected for people to get to the stores early enough to buy lettuce? Does one have to be a stay-at-home mom in order to get good groceries? It's stupid. Today I went to four stores to buy a lightbulb. There must be a national lightbulb shortage because I had to stomach Tescos on a Saturday just to get one because SuperValu, Centra, Dunnes Stores, and Spar didn't have any. So, I'm in the three-items-or-less line at Tescos. One lightbulb: 15 minutes in line. Have you heard the joke, How many sales clerks does it take to ring in a lightbulb, and how long does it take them? The answer is more sad than funny.

If you ask a Dubliner, they think the shopping here is fabulous - except for the expensive prices. I say that means they have never travelled. It's easily the worst in the industrialised world. I can take French snottiness. They're only snotty if you're buying something tacky, yet they still manage to stock items and be efficient - even if they're also never open. Irish retailers can't even manage any of the above. Others have mentioned that I'm used to over-the-top customer service because I'm from North America. Well, you know what? Damn right. I've got the accent so I might as well use it. I've got my elbows out so you better get out of my way if you don't want to get hurt. I want merchandise and I want some service dammit. Now would be nice, thank you.

Oh My God, I'm Sick of Beer

2004-11-21T19:15:00.000Z

Ok, I have actually been sick of beer since about March, but it's reaching desperate proportions now. I can't drink beer like the Irish at all. Canadians just don't drink as much beer. Most people in Ireland think it's because our beer has a lower alcohol content, which is not true. In Canada, most people drink bottles, which are smaller than pints. Also, if pints are bought, they're consumed at a slower pace, and most people only have three before stopping. Funny because people in Canada think that I can drink a ridiculous amout of beer, but I'm a complete lightweight here.

It's customary here to buy drinks in rounds. If you're out with three people, it's a safe bet that the 'just one pint' will actually be three pints. Unfortunately, because drinks are bought in rounds, it messes up the round system to order a mixed drink as they're more expensive. So, when I'm out at the pub, I'm drinking beer - whether I really want to or not. It's pretty anti-social to say, 'oh no, you guys buy rounds, I'll take care of my own'. However, for some reason, I just can't stomach it much anymore. I don't know why, and I don't know when this happened. I can only drink about four pints and then I hit a total wall, and I can't consume anything else at all - even food because I'm so full. The first two pints are great, but then I would really rather switch off to something else.

On a related note, there is a new product out on the market here called "Lifeline". It's a hangover pill, but unlike its predecessors, you don't have to take one with each drink you consume (ridiculous and you would never remember), you don't have to take it a certain number of hours before your first drink (because all nights out are planned), and you don't have to take it before going to bed (if you don't always remember your pint of water....). Also, it's available in pharmacies, not just on the Internet, so that eliminates some of the dubiousness of its claims. You take one with your first drink and that's it. The marketing line is, "developed in Ireland for Irish drinkers. So you know it works." Hilarious. I was at the pharmacy the other day, and I saw the display for them but they were sold out. Everyone is talking about them. I'll let you know the verdict.

Grasskicker

2004-11-11T20:03:00.000Z

For those who know me, you'll know that one of my frustrations about living here is that no one seems to play sports or is very active. There isn't much in the way of social sports for adults, from what I gather.

I had looked into joining a co-ed soccer league, but only found an indoor league run by Aussie expats. It wasn't a positive experience (nothing against the Aussies). Basically, the guys on my team were really young and arrogant. They never passed to the girls at all and were really aggressive. After awhile the girls stopped showing up altogether since we figured they didn't actually need us to play even though two women are required at all times or the game is defaulted. None of the girls on the team wanted to be pitch warmers, ie. stand on the pitch purely so that the guys could play.

There are some women's leagues, but what I found is that you don't join a league and get put on a team, you have to join a club (team). There isn't a real way to do that if you're an outsider. You have to really campaign to get on a team and you basically have to know someone. There is no such thing as a spare list or an individuals/free agent team.

I also found out that the real social sport to play in Ireland is touch rugby. However, the league only runs for nine weeks in the spring, which makes me wonder what people do for the other 41 weeks of the year.

I recently heard that a few of the women at work were trying to put together a team. So, I joined. I was concerned at first because I heard that they have a trainer and conduct practices. I wasn't sure I would be good enough for the team because I've only played on a purely recreational level. When I approached the captain about playing, I started to tell her about my soccer experience. She looked at me and said, "you've played before? That's GREAT! None of us have." I then heard about their first game against the other work team, which was formed on the other office campus. It was described as 14 women running in a pack following the ball - kind of like when you see five year-olds play soccer, minus the two kids sitting down picking dandelions. So, I figured I would either love it or hate it.

I played my first game last night and I love it! Most of the girls have no soccer experience, but a lot of them are athletic and you can tell that they're picking it up. One girl is really good and has obviously played before. Rules are very loosely applied. None of them know the rules actually. There was a big discussion at one point between a goal kick or corner kick. I was on forward and kicked the ball last but bounced it off the defender's leg. So corner. However, she started to argue that I kicked it last. So, we discussed whether it was last 'kick' or last 'touch' (it's last touch). The best part though, is that these women are so enthusiastic about playing. It's really fun. I didn't exactly play full out, which was fine with me considering it was my first game in 10 months. I am also pretty much the second-best player out there, after the other woman I mentioned, who incidentally has the same last name as me. However, it was so much fun to get out there and run around. It was the best.

Ohio is the New Florida - but without chads, election fraud and Brother Jeb

2004-11-03T19:52:00.000Z

I always kind of knew that Bush would win but it wasn't until it really happened that it sunk in. This time, Americans chose Bush as the President. The people have spoken. After four years of his bungling, Americans decided that they liked him. Americans decided that the election fraud of 2000 was forgiveable, as was lying to one's citizens about WMD to go to war in Iraq - a country not containing Osama Bin Laden. The Iraq quagmire continues, but hey Halliburton got their oil, so that's good right? Therefore, lying about WMD to send America's sons and daughters to war is ok because the price of gas won't go through the roof. Likewise, Americans don't seem to be bothered with the erosion of civil liberties or the tanking economy. They also don't seem to mind living in a thinly-veiled theocracy that has more in common with Iran than with countries in Western Europe when it comes to separation of Church and State. They also don't seem to mind that because this is Bush's second term, there is a republican-controlled congress, and Cheney has already stated that he's not running in 2008, there is little accountability on Bush over the next four years, and he can veer as far right as he wants.

This morning I was convinced that Kerry would fight it out for those 200,000 provisional votes in Ohio. C'mon Kerry, every vote counts. You go. By midday I thought that the world was going to hell in a handbasket and that I didn't really understand Americans at all. I mean, is it really worth selling your soul for a piddly tax cut - unless you're a billionaire, in which case a ginormous tax cut? What about ethics, accountability, responsibility?

By the end of the day, I came across this article on Slate.com.
http://www.slate.com/id/2109079/

I had been surfing intermittently throughout the day, but not often because not only was I busy at work, but also I had the inability to open up a web page without wanting to punch out Bush's stinking, smirking mug. The article is titled "Why You Keep Losing to This Idiot." It drew my attention immediately. The author is right, Bush won because he's simple. In 2000 I made fun of the fact that the CBC found no shortage of people who were voting for Bush on the basis of personality. "He's the kind of guy you can have a cup of cawwffeee with." Didn't these people want the smart guy to run the world's superpower, instead of the affable Joe? Who were these idiots? Well, apparently the majority of the American population. When you look at the State map, the West Coast is blue, the North-East is blue, most of the Great Lakes States are blue, with the notorious exception being Ohio, but I'm blaming that on the fact that it also borders West Virginia and Kentucky (cue song from Deliverance here). The rest of the map is a great patch of red - otherwise known as fly-over country. These are the people whose only source of news is the local TV station and the local paper - highly-skewed and no foreign content (don't want that). These are the people that The Onion was referring to with their headline "Lowest Common Demoninator Drops Further: Network Execs Flock to Fill the Bilge". They made Big Momma's House number one at the box office for one week a couple of years ago, and last time I checked, "Yes, Dear" was still on the air. That's who Bush was talking to. That's who Kerry wasn't talking to. Bush did the better job of convincing people that if they didn't vote for him, Osama was going to get them as they were unsuspectingly shopping at Wal-Mart and if that didn't happen, then the homos were going to grab them, bend them over and rape them of their family values.

The author of that article is right. The Democrats do have their person for 2008 in John Edwards. He's personable, has a 1000-watt smile, is attractive, has charisma and he's from North Carolina. Americans want leaders with a simple message and a great personality. Bush gets that. The Democratic party doesn't. In the meantime it's four more years of a virtual civil war in the US. The hippies/Yankee bluebloods against the southerners/mid-westerners and the rural/suburbanites against the urbanites. Let's hope Bush doesn't do too much damage in the US and abroad in his (thankfully) last four years in office. At least that also means four more years of Bush jokes - don't see them running dry any time soon.

Election 2004

2004-10-31T14:26:00.000Z

I have to say that I miss the overkill in the media of the American election. If I was in Canada I would be making plans to go to a friend's house on Tuesday night to watch the results. We would watch the map of the states become slowly coloured in blue and red - blue along the coasts and red in one big swath across the middle. Kind of representative of the socio-economic status of the entire country.

It's well-known that Canadians have a keen interest in American politics. Our economic well-being is, for better or worse, dependent on the US and for that reason, we take an interest in their politics.

I've missed the emails that would circle around from a few politically-minded coworkers and friends with links to articles in both the international press and alternative web sites. I miss the political jokes that would also make the rounds. I really miss The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Checking out the Comedy Central web site is not the same at all. Funny, if I was back home, I would be crying enough already. Watching it from afar is not nearly as fun. On Tuesday night I'll be going to bed just as the first results start rolling in. By the time I wake up, it will all be over.

I distinctly remember in 2000 watching the election at my friend's place. Gore just won Florida, which meant he won the election. I got home, flicked on the TV as I was getting ready for bed, and in the time it took me to drive home from my friend's house, the state of Florida was now coloured red instead of blue. I was up watching nearly all night. What came out in the following days was even more interesting, but what was shocking was the reaction of the American people. What would have caused full-scale riots in countries such as Bolivia and Venezuela, was not even registering in the US with anything more than a shrug of the shoulders. It has since become clear that the Republican party stole the last presidential election. Will it happen again?

I'll be thinking about you all on Tuesday night as I go to bed. It won't be the same reading about it the next morning on cbc.ca. My bosses at work are pro-Republican so I can't even discuss this with them. I'll have to wait for the email discussions. Again, not nearly as much fun as sitting up watching it with friends and discussing it at work the next morning over coffee.

Just a side note on my bosses. They are only pro-Republican because the head of the company I work for is. They are the biggest sycophants I have ever met in my entire life. I have avoided political discussion with them but I have had to correct them a couple of times because what came out of their mouths was so completely erroneous, I couldn't let it slide. Like when they said Clinton did nothing for foreign policy (but Bush did??). What about the Good Friday accord, which had to do with, uh, Ireland. Or the Middle East peace process. Let's put it this way, the one woman doesn't have any pictures of her husband on her desk, but she has four pictures of the head of the company I work for as well as the book he's written. I was warned about calling it 'the shrine' in front of too many people, but that's what it looks like.

For those of you in the US, vote wisely.

Some links that I have been looking at the last couple of days:
http://www.theonion.com/election2004/
http://www.thestranger.com/current/
http://www.comedycentral.com/tv_shows/thedailyshowwithjonstewart/

All That You Can't Leave Behind

2004-10-30T18:55:00.000Z

This post is dedicated to Bono because of my shameless use of his lyrics in this post.

I haven't written in awhile, and a lot has happened in the past couple of months. The job has gotten a lot better. It's gotten really busy for me at work, I get a buzz from what I'm doing, and I think I can do a lot with this job. Thing is, I'm wavering on Dublin as a whole. It's no secret that I'm not in love with the place, even though I have found some compelling elements about it. To quote a former boss, "I'm just not jazzed about it" (the city this time, not the job).

For a while I started to think that I would stay here a couple more years. As the visit from my parents approached, I even thought that I was crazy to go home at Christmas. I mean, what was I thinking? I hate Christmas. It's the worst time of year to go. There are so many things that I want to do and see over those two weeks and I won't be able to do half of them because of the holidays. Friends will be off seeing their own families, and the shops will be crazy, so shopping will suck. I also need to schedule dental, optometrist and hair appointments, renew my driver's license and get a new health card. That's not easy to do over the holidays either. I should have arranged to go somewhere warm and non-Christian over the holidays and visited Canada in October instead.

Now, part of me wishes that I was coming home for good over Christmas. I don't know when this changed for me. It seems like it was overnight. I know part of it was when the weather changed, and all of a sudden it was very cold out every day. I have even started wearing a scarf. It gets dark really early here and winter is generally damp and dreary. I now leave for work and come home in the dark, and we haven't even changed the clocks back yet.

I also know that another part of it was when a friend came to visit a couple of weeks ago. It's always great having visitors from home. Even though everyone here speaks English (though that might be debatable), only those from home really speak your language. The friend that visited was more a friend of my old flatmate than my friend, but it turned out that we got on like wildfire and it's safe to say that I have made a new friend out of the visit.

I have been really homesick this past week, the first time I've been this homesick since the spring. I realized that my friends are starting to drift. I've been warned that this happens around the nine-month mark. A lot of people have difficulty keeping up correspondence, and I'm as guilty as anyone. If you want to get a letter, you have to write one, and I've been awful this year.

However, the biggest thing that I've been homesick about is that I have no support system over here. It's something that I think I always took for granted because my family is just so solid. Many of my friendships were slow to develop, and as a result, my social support network snuck up on me. Now that I don't have that support of friendship locally, and it is something that I really needed this past week, I realise just how important it is, and how much it means to me.

Question is, am I ready to go home? The move back home would be really difficult. I wouldn't have a job and since I've only been at my latest job for 2.5 months, and temped the rest of the time I was here, I don't have a lot to show on my CV. If I could stick it out for a year, I would be doing a lot better career-wise. If I could stick it out two years, I would be laughing. I don't know if I want to though. I'm not sure being without my friends and family would be worth it in the long run.

In the immortal words of Bono, "you're on the road, but you've got no destination…", or maybe it's better to say, "you got stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it". At what point is it a zen moment of not knowing if you’re staying or leaving, and not really caring either way, and at what point is it just inertia?

Can you tell I was listening to U2 while writing this?

Alpha traveller, beta worker

2004-09-01T20:44:00.000Z

This month has just blown past. I thought for sure my next entry on here would be my Portugal travelogue (which was fab by the way), but I haven't finished writing it yet, and next thing you know, I've started my new job, been to the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh and it's September 1. Summer is definitely over here, there is a definite chill in the air in the mornings, and it's getting dark by 9pm. In two weeks, my parents arrive for a visit, and then with a blink of an eye, it will be October, and I'll be finding my own apartment. I will miss Thanksgiving. I'm also going to try and book my flight home for Christmas in the next week or two once I get my vacation time signed off. Autumn approaching, talk of Thanksgiving and Christmas....I feel like this year has ended just as I was starting to get it together.

But am I getting it together? I had a bit of a crisis moment today. Luckily, I was in an unnecessary five-hour meeting, which provided me with plenty of time to dwell on my thoughts. The meeting was unnecessary on two fronts: had people been organised, it could have been 3-4 hours shorter, and also that I was even there to begin with.

A recurring thought has popped into my head over the past few days. My travelling style and my work style are completely different. It didn't hit me until I was in Edinburgh. A friend had texted me to see what I was up to and to possibly meet up. I responded saying that I was just about to the top of Arthur's Seat so maybe after I got back down. He responded with, "man, you don't fool around". I had arrived in Edinburgh that morning, headed off to a festival show, got a bite to eat, and climbed Arthur's Seat, all in the span of a few hours. They were all things I wanted to do and I was getting them in.

After I got back from Portugal, I had a conversation with my flatmate about the pace of travel. There is a hotel down the street from where we live that is popular with tour groups and the tour busses are always there early in the morning to pick up passengers. He commented that leaving a hotel at 7am to get to your next destination was his idea of hell. He likes to relax on his vacations (says he who is currently cycling in Kashmir). I responded that I'm the opposite. I wouldn't be out the door at 7am, but when I'm travelling, I'm out of bed and at breakfast by 9am and I don't even need to use an alarm. He was a bit incredulous because he knows what time I roll out of bed at on an average Saturday. Travelling is different though. I have a full day of things I want to see and do and I'm ready to go. I also don't really stop during the day. I don't usually want to. I would much prefer to sight-see all day and then go back to the B&B for a shower before going out for a relaxing dinner. If I had to characterise my travelling style, I would definitely say type A. I hate resorts, I like doing "things" on my vacations, and I try to travel whenever money and time allows.

While I'm doing very well on the travel front, I'm proving to be a complete failure in the work world. This week hasn't been a good one at work. Actually it's been god-awful. I've wanted to quit a couple of times and I don't know that I'm going to stick it out the six months. I probably should for the sake of my CV, but my CV is pretty much ruined by my little European excursion anyway, so it might not matter much at this point. First off, I'm really, really bored, which is never a good thing with me, as some of you might well be aware. I'm still in training and I just want to get it over with already and start doing stuff. Also, when I was hired, I was told I would be brought in on a couple of projects which were really interesting, but because my start date was then delayed, I am not on those projects any more, which means they can't really go on my CV - so why am I there again? The five-hour meeting was for one of those projects, and I spent most of the time stewing that I am not involved, they're so disorganised about it, and I could do a much better job of the running of the event. I mean, this is what I did at the ad agency. I tried to put in some gentle, good suggestions (really obvious stuff) and was mostly ignored. I was given one task, and it's a bit of a no-brainer. During the event, I'm holding down the fort back at the office, and I have to send out the press release at the appointed time. Ooooh, don't know if I can do it. They then asked me about four times if I was clear about my job. I said, yes every time, except the fourth time when I possibly, slightly snotty said 'crystal'. Oops. In my defence, I was now also annoyed that the meeting was going well past 5:30, which meant that by the time I got back to the office, and caught the train, I would miss my super spin class at the gym. I'm there for no reason AND I'm missing super spin. My boss pulled me aside afterwards, and I thought it was to give out on me for that, but it was to tell me she's pregnant. Oh. I thought she was looking a bit pudgy. My first thought after that was, 'Great, you're the one who actually gives me stuff to do occasionally and now you're leaving for a few months'. This thought was quickly followed by, 'Oh god, this doesn't mean that co-worker who is emotionally unstable and a total bitch will now be in charge, does it?' Just shoot me now. So of course, I've lost all enthusiasm in the job because I'm doing absolutely nothing of interest and the future isn't looking too bright. This also a bad sign because I haven't even been there a month yet, and there is only so long that I can hide my ambivalence.

I know, I should wait it out a bit more to give it a better chance. Once the girl I'm replacing leaves at the end of next week, I'll start doing the work myself and will be busier. I might also then have better control to ask for more challenging stuff - especially when pregnant boss starts to scale back her workload. Then again, I know already that this job is probably not for me. Of course, no job has been right for me - ever. I don't know how people can plug away at a job day-in and day-out until retirement. I really envy people who say they like what they do, because I don't think I do. I also envy people who can stick around at a company long enough to start earning a decent paycheque. I have never been able to stick it out anywhere long enough to amass decent experience and the money that comes along with it. I'm conscious of the fact that people way younger than me are surpassing me on the corporate ladder. But I don't know if this is something I even want to be climbing. Maybe I'm not a worker. Sometimes I think it's because I need to be my own boss. In my more self-righteous moments, I'll admit that I think it's because I'm too smart for the corporate world.

Maybe I have found something I like though. I like to write for sure, and I also really like to edit. The only joy I get out of my job right now is writing and editing for the newsletter - and it's just a company newsletter, the content is far from exciting. So maybe a career change is in order. This isn't the first time I've thought about this (far from it). The only thing stopping me is that I don't have any experience, so I would be entry-level (again) in a very low-paying field. Also, I'm tired of giving up on my jobs. I try hard to stick through everything. Until this year, I stayed on a team until the end of a season, I never dropped a course, and I stuck it out here when things truly sucked. When it comes to work, however, I carry a disk with my updated CV on it with me every day and I'm ready to bolt at the next available offer. Maybe, I need to start sucking it up and sticking it out and eventually it will get good. I might even have a career someday. Then again, ask me on Monday if I've picked up the Guardian (media Monday) and what I'm really doing at work with the newspaper - and no, I won't be examining it for company mentions.

Back in the workforce and into the sun

2004-07-27T20:02:00.000Z

After six months of looking hard (and not so hard), I finally got a job. I got a six-month contract in the corporate communications department of an American Multinational Computer Company - not to be confused with the utterly dysfunctional one I was previously temping at and have previously written about. For being tight competitors, these two companies are complete opposites in work environment to one another. The dysfunctional company called me for an interview in their communications department and the interview was scheduled on the same day that I got the job offer at the other one. It felt so good to call up dysfunctional company and say, "sorry I can't attend the interview, I just received a job offer and I'm going to accept it. Oh where do you ask? At your biggest competitor. "

I was afraid that I had spoken too soon, however. Right after I received the verbal job offer, I was informed that it wasn't 100%, they had to pass it through HR, but it shouldn't be a problem. Well, it was a problem. Apparently, they broke a couple of HR laws, namely, they didn't advertise the job internally or externally or interview anyone else. It just so happened that I was temping there for a couple of weeks, they really liked me, and knowing that one of the girls was leaving in September, they offered me the job. It was agony waiting to find out the verdict as I really wanted this job. I know that I'm not very good at interviews and I had been on more than my fair share over the past six months. The thought of having to still play the job search game when I thought it was over was really discouraging. Not only that, but the thought of losing a job because of HR bureaucracy was just too much. I was afraid my two would-be bosses wouldn't fight for me and just leave it, or go through the proper channels while "keeping me in mind". I had pretty much decided that if it fell through I was going to really take stock about being over here as it didn't seem to be working out. I was stressing for nothing however because I got the job yesterday! Woo-hoo! It seems as though things are finally starting to work out for me here. This job could be a very good experience for me and it's a huge weight off my shoulders.

To celebrate, and get out of the rain, I'm going to Portugal for a week as of Thursday. I doubt I'll post while there, but I promise a travel report when I return. I've been dying for a summer, and I think this is the only way I'm going to get it. This past July was the wettest in British history and parts of Germany even saw some snow. It wasn't the wettest July in Irish history, but I imagine that it was right up there. It has to be truly dismal to beat an Irish rainfall record, and I think we did have one or two dry days in the past month. To give you an idea of just how cold it has been this past month, I was wearing the shell of my Columbia ski jacket while hiking this past weekend. I spent the whole day today going through the few summer clothes I brought over with me and I've packed them already. I can't wait.

I only seem to say goodbye in Dublin

2004-07-18T20:36:00.000Z

I know I haven't written in over a week. I've had so much on my mind that I've wanted to post, but I'm in a temp job right now that's pretty demanding and I don't get to the net cafe as much as I would like. I was all set to write about Irish "customer service" - an oxymoron if I've ever heard one, but then something happened - I had to say good bye to a friend.

This friend is a Canadian man that I met over here. No, I know what you're thinking, but we're just friends. He is moving over to India tomorrow morning for a job that will last until around April. He'll be back in Ireland for a visit around Christmas - probably around the time that I return to Canada for a visit. He's the kind of guy who wants to go out all the time and always has something on the go. The kind of guy, who when he calls you for the third time that week, you somewhat sigh and say "YES, I'll see you Saturday, ok?". So today when I met up with him after a thoroughly frustrating shopping trip in city centre, I didn't clue in that it would be the last time I would see him for months. He's the kind of guy who you could always rely on for a night out, no matter what, which in Ireland, believe it or not, is hard to find. We said good bye a few hours ago at the Ha'pennny bridge; we gave each other a quick hug and parted. It wasn't until I was over the bridge that it hit me: I just said good bye to one of my only friends here and I don't know what I'm going to do with myself on the weekends. I'm really going to miss him.

she a Luas woman (warning it's long)

2004-07-07T21:03:00.000Z

I rode the Luas for the first time this morning. The Luas is a new tram system that opened earlier this month in Dublin. The trains are silver, sleek and with their purplish interior, look like they would be more at home in France or Japan than in Dublin. As with any change, there was a big to-do about this new system in the press and especially on talk radio. Then again, what isn’t an issue on talk radio? They would create more traffic congestion, the cost is too expensive, and cars can’t drive on the tram tracks, therefore effectively closing certain streets to vehicular traffic. Dublin Bus complained that the trams were allowed to signal for priority when coming up to stoplights causing the busses to run behind schedule due to increased congestion. So what was Dublin Bus’ excuse for continually running behind schedule before Luas? The rain?

As someone accustomed to the Toronto Transit system (TTC), I wasn’t complaining about any possible improvement to the Dublin Transit system. Dublin Transit makes the TTC look efficient. Busses are regularly late, and on many routes don’t run often enough. When I first moved here, I lived in an inner northern suburb serviced by four bus routes. The busses travel from their respective terminuses through my suburb then into the city centre. From my suburb into the city centre, all four routes ran along the exact same streets. Some genius at Dublin Bus thought it best for these four routes to have the exact same timetable. So instead of the prospect of a bus coming along once every 5-10 minutes, all four busses come by once every 30 minutes. If you miss one bus, you miss them all and you have to wait another 25 minutes (usually in the rain) for the next one. Further, there is congestion along the bus route as one bus crawls along behind the other. I should add that the street these busses travel along is a main north-south artery that connects the city centre to the airport. It’s not a small, residential avenue.

I reached the end of my patience with Dublin Bus when one evening, I watched the bus drive by me as I ran up the street. I stood at an unsheltered stop for 25 minutes in 2C temperatures, cold drizzle and blustery winds that prevented me from putting up my umbrella. By the time I got home, I was a soaking mess and the damp chill had travelled down into my bones. I felt as though I would never get warm again. It was then I decided to move closer to the city centre and lessen my reliance on Dublin Bus. My toxic flatmates only hastened that decision. By comparison, the fact that there isn’t an express bus along Eglinton Avenue East seems to be a trifling annoyance. Of course, there should probably be a subway line along Eglinton Avenue, linking up at Kennedy station in the East End, Eglinton West in the West End, and then heading out to the airport, but hey, I wasn’t elected Planning Commissioner.

The only good thing about the Dublin Transit system is the suburban train line (DART) and the fact that there are more bus routes in Dublin, or at least more areas are serviced. It’s a rare, isolated suburb that isn’t serviced by at least one route. Toronto can’t say that about many of its inner suburbs, let alone the outlying ones. I’m also only talking about Metro Toronto in this instance, as the public transit in neighbouring municipalities borders on non-existence.

I had a job interview this morning and by my calculation, it would have taken me 45 minutes to walk to my destination. If I took the bus, it would have taken me an hour – 30 minutes to walk along the Quays (east-west route along the River Liffey, which dissects the city) to the bus stop, and another 30 minutes on the bus. If I took a bus along the Quays, an additional 15-20 minutes would be added to the trip. An elderly person with a walker can walk faster than a bus traveling along the Quays at certain times of the day. By taking the Luas, however, the trip only took me 40 minutes – 30 minutes walking to the closest stop, a 5-minute wait for the next tram, and the tram ride itself.

As I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6am to get ready for my 8:15am interview this morning, I reflected that though Toronto is much bigger than Dublin, both in population and size, it takes much longer to get around here. The distance I was traveling to my interview wasn’t that great – the equivalent distance and approximate direction from Bloor & Bathurst to Yonge & College. Yet, what would be 20 minutes at most on the TTC would take an hour on Dublin Bus.

One good thing about Dublin, however, is that the city council recognises the fact that the city is growing and a public transit plan needs to reflect the increased population and density. A second Luas line is opening in August on the north side of the city. However, true to Irish form, the lines are not compatible. So that means that even though they don’t link up now, they also never can in the future. Brilliant. That move almost makes Toronto’s Urban Planning seem forward-thinking and proactive in comparison. Almost. At least they’re trying. Toronto, on the other hand, seems to deny reports that estimate the population in the GTA to swell by 5 million over the next 10 years. Toronto’s response to projected population growth is to cut back on public transit. If DVP currently stands for Don Valley Parking Lot, what will it be like in a few years time? Where will everyone park? I suppose the city can convert any remaining green space along the waterfront into parking lots. The Gardiner Expressway and massive condo developments have already blighted the area anyway.

Riding the Luas this morning almost brought a tear to my eye. I had forgotten that public transit can be fast and efficient, and oh the luxury of taking a tram that doesn’t sit in traffic behind cars waiting to turn left (or in Ireland’s case, turn right). This is unlike taking the streetcar along Queen, College or Bathurst, for example, where streetcars sit in traffic along with everyone else. So what’s the advantage of taking public transit if it’s not any faster or more convenient? In its second week of operation, the Luas trams were full with morning commuters. For all the ballyhoo before it opened, people seem to welcome it now. It would be really sad if I were to return to Toronto a year or two from now and wax poetic on how Dublin Transit is so much better than the TTC.

here comes the rain again and again and again and again

2004-07-05T20:33:00.000Z

I know it's not really fair to complain about the rain in Ireland. I mean, what did I expect? I also suppose that I was pretty spoiled this past Winter and Spring as it was unseasonably warm and dry. I just really didn't think it was this bad. I really thought there were good patches in between the rain spells. But there aren't.

July has been a total washout so far. I don't think my umbrella has ever seen this much action. This past weekend was cold, dreary and wet. Today, being Monday, it was really beautiful. Luckily I'm unemployed so I could enjoy it. Then tonight it started to rain again. We haven't gone one day in the past two weeks without rain.

I have figured out that I'm a summer baby. I need sun, and I need warm weather. I don't feel like it's summer at all and I'm starting to feel ripped off. I know I'll probably be depressed by autumn if this keeps up. The days will get shorter, the temperatures will get colder, and I'll be secure in the knowledge that it won't be nice and sunny again until next May - if I'm lucky. I never thought I would need a sun holiday in summer. I wonder if there are language requirements to work at a bar in Corfu?

Four seasons?

2004-06-29T20:09:00.000Z

I realised today that in just two days it's July 1st. That's Canada Day back home, a national holiday. It's the kind of day that's usually celebrated with barbeques and fireworks. It's the epitome of summer. Everyone is out in shorts, lots of people head to the beach, there is the scent of sunscreen in the air and it's hot outside.

But I'm in Ireland this year, and you wouldn't know that it's summer. Today I'm wearing pants, a light sweater and a jacket. My umbrella is in my bag. I'm sure that in two days time, I won't be breaking out the shorts and tank top. Someone told me when I got here that winter and summer are only a few degrees apart. I would have to agree. While I don't miss the cold, damp rain of winter (and apparently I am here on a good year), it's also not too far gone in my memory. I seem to remember wearing my winter jacket and one day in April I switched to my lighter coat, and sometime in May I switched to my spring jacket. That jacket hasn't come off yet, except for a few gloriously warm days in May and June. As the Summer Solstice has come and gone, I wonder when I'll drift back into my coat without even realising it.

In Canada the change in seasons are dramatic. It's -27C one day, 0C the next, and entirely plausible to have 20C within two weeks of that. I've spent some autumn weekends leaving my place in Toronto wearing shorts, and arriving later that night at the cottage up north wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and seeing my breath when getting out of the car. People in Canada are often jarred by the change of the seasons. People get the flu around these times of year, or report having vivid dreams or trouble sleeping. People never drift through the seasons not noticing the change.

As I woke up at 4am this morning with the sun streaming through my window, I started to think that maybe Ireland does have seasons, but only two of them: light and dark. When I first arrived in February, sunrise was close to 9am and sunset was around 4:30pm. Now, sunrise is at 4am, and sunset is at 11pm. I love the light evenings, it makes the nights seem so much longer and it's a pleasure to walk home at night in the daylight. However, I haven't been able to get used to it in the morning yet. For the first few weeks of really early sunrises, I woke up with a jolt because I was convinced I overslept my alarm. I no longer do that, but it's a rare morning where I don't wake up at least once before 6am. Other Canadians I've spoken to here have also commented on not being able to sleep. I remember to when I first arrived and I was in bed at 10am every night. I thought it was because of the overwhelming nature of being in a new environment, but now I wonder if it was because it was so dark all the time - because I'm not sleeping at all now, and this place is still overwhelming for me.

I remember coming out of the gym one day in April and being shocked that it was still light out at 8pm. Something tells me that I'll be similarly shocked at the end of August, just two months from now, when I wake up one morning and it's still dark outside.

wanted: org chart expert

2004-06-28T20:46:00.000Z

As I mentioned in a previous post, job #4 came to an end last week....or did it. On Friday, they asked me if I wouldn't mind working Thursday and Friday of this week as they needed me to cover for someone. No problem, it's not like my temp agency called me back for any jobs - a definite downside to having a longish temp contract is that you're no longer at the top of the list with the other temp agencies with which you previously registered. By the time Friday 5pm rolled around, I was really looking forward to my short work week. I had three days off and then work for two days for a bit of much-needed cash. Perfect. I had my three days off all planned out. I would go to the gym in the middle of the afternoon to avoid having to wait for any machines *bliss*. I would also clean the apartment because it's due for a good clean and I would get caught up on my laundry. I would drink a leisurely cup of coffee in the morning while reading the paper, and oh yeah, look for work.

I was just getting ready to leave for French class tonight when my phone rang. It was my replacement at the company I just left. She was having tremendous difficulty putting together the complex org chart that we started working on last week. My boss would like me to come in tomorrow to correct her mistakes and complete the chart as my replacement doesn't feel that she's capable of the task.

Now, I'm not a computer expert by any stretch of the imagination, but org charts aren't hard. I also find it hard to believe that there is no one in this company, which is incidentally an American multinational computer company, that can do this org chart. They have to call a contractor that just left back in to do the 1/2 day job (it will take me all day, I'm sure, I'm being paid by the hour). Actually, I can believe that no one there can do the org chart. They probably all said that it wasn't their job and got away with it. The "it isn't my job" attitude is something that I've found is unique to large corporations. I can't imagine ever getting away with that in the small companies I've previously worked for up until now.

I also can't believe that the person chosen as my replacement, who to her credit is a professional admin assistant, and I most definitely am not, is not very computer literate. She's working for a computer company! As an example, when MSN IM notified me that I had new mail while we were working together on my machine, she thought it was a pop-up from MS Outlook and that it was a work-related mail. She had never seen MSN IM before. She can navigate throughout most Office applications but it really seemed to me that she was remembering what she learned in a 10-week course, and not especially comfortable with the applications.

I can't help but wonder. If I'm so damn good at org charts, and no one else apparently is, how come I don't have a job? I'm not complaining, I'll get paid over €100 for this extra day, but there are just so many things wrong with this picture.

what's in a url?

2004-06-23T21:00:00.000Z

I've had a couple of compliments regarding my choice of URL. First of all, thank you. I've also had a couple of questions about the inspiration behind it. Well, contrary to popular belief, it wasn't in any way connected with my move to Ireland but rather borne from an unfortunate incident at my 30th birthday party. No it wasn't just the drink, it turned out that I had the flu (no really). Anyway, I was recounting the events of my party to TH, a coworker, and said, "it came out of nowhere, I went from sober to smashed in 45 seconds". He then replied, "Ell, just promise me that whenever you do write your book, you'll use the phrase sober to smashed as your title".

So to give credit where credit is due: Thanks TH. It's not a book (yet) but it's on the Internet so that's something, right? Or maybe not.

TH, pour vous.

The job, or lack thereof

2004-06-21T20:31:00.000Z

I am finishing up job #4 since coming to Ireland at the end of this week. Right now I'm temping as an admin assistant for a large American multinational computer company. After working here a week I soon realised why movies like "Office Space" are made, books like Douglas Coupland's "Microserfs" are written and why "Dilbert" is such a success. Every day there was something that just grated me about this place. First it was the superfluous use of acronyms. Now, I didn't get a handoff when I started so I didn't know my TEE HEE HEEs from my FOADs but that didn't stop people from expecting that I just knew what they were talking about. The thing is, they didn't know what they were talking about. Nine times out of ten if I asked them what a particular acronym stood for, the person I asked did not know despite the fact that they use that acronym in a sentence on a daily basis. The other idiosyncracy about the place that I couldn't get over was the abuse of the English language. Did you know that sometimes I hotdesked, and that I had to request that an item be actioned, and if I didn't get a response on my action request I would have to escalate the action? I felt myself getting dumber by the day. Pretty soon I would be working on some best-of-breed deliverables if I wasn't careful. Then I would be sent back to grade three to learn how to speak and write English again.

I was at said multinational for two and a half months. Now I realise that I haven't provided any background to my ups and downs over the past four months, which I'll do over time because like I said in my last post, I have a lot of catching up to do. Suffice it to say, I have had some real problems with moving out of my intolerable living situation and almost getting sued in the process for breaking the lease. It was nice to have a steady job and not worry about where the next paycheque is coming from. After about a month, I even started to like some of the people I was working with. That said, I wasn't really enthused about the job but I really thought I would be there until I found something else, not until they found someone else.

I told one of the HR representatives early on that I was interested in the marketing side of things since I was hoping that if an opening came up I could be considered. Unfortunately she tipped off my boss, who really liked the work I was doing, that I wouldn't be there for very long and they should find someone who actually wants to be an admin assistant, which to be perfectly honest, is something I don't want.

When I found out last week that I had a week left at the job, I was pretty annoyed about it. I was hoping to book a flight to Prague in July to visit my friend and also go to Edinburgh for the Fringe Festival in August as well as London at some point in the summer. All of which are now put on hold. That said, after my annoyance wore off, I was pretty relieved. If I had to hear "Ell, my inbox is full again, can you vet some of my emails?" one more time... By the end of the day, I realised that I didn't really like the company, I certainly didn't like the job, I just liked the nice, steady paycheque.

Welcome

2004-06-20T20:02:00.000Z

I am a Canadian currently living in Ireland. I decided to start a blog because I frequently have so much on my mind and so many things to say; observations about my newly adopted homeland, things I miss about home, and the joys and frustrations of the past four months (and counting). I really need to put pen to paper, or in this day and age, put fingers to keyboard. I've also been woefully behind on my email correspondence with friends and family so I figure this is a good way to get the word out on what's going on with my life without having to write several emails on the same subject. I have a hotmail account (I know, enough said) and when trying to organise my contacts into groups, I managed to make emailing more difficult because if I want to send one to most members of a group, but not the whole group, I can't edit people out for a specific email but at the same time, I can't find the email addresses in a master email list either to just select the people I want to send it to one-by-one. I would try to fix this, but I'm frequently online at a net cafe so it costs me money, and besides, I'm holding out for a gmail account.

So keep your eyes on this site, and I'll have more posted soon.