"What are they - BEARS?"

When you wait too long to write something, the task becomes overwhelming because you have SO much to say and you don't know where to start.

I think I'm a little overwhelmed.

Wendy, Katie and I went to Dublin. We spent the night in the airport because Katie is really paranoid about missing flights. It was awful. We found these really comfy chairs in this open coffee shop area so we sat down long enough to say "ahhh" before some chair Nazis came over and kicked us out, saying that they were "cleaning the area" (they weren't) and besides, it was "closed" (but still serving food?) I was ticked. Wendy made me promise not to say "chair Nazis" in Berlin.

Dublin was kind of ugly. If you ever go to Ireland, don't go there. Go to the countryside, the sea shore or a fishing village. We went to a fishing village called Howth our second day there. It was beautiful. I felt the Irishness seeping through my body. Or maybe that was the torrential downpour that soon ensued after we got to the middle of the pier. The wind blew our umbrellas inside out. It's pretty sad when your umbrella dies OUTSIDE OF London. How does that happen?

We ate so much in Dublin - which was a shame because it was all really expensive. A pesto and mozzarrella burger with chips and hot chocolate; spaghetti bologonese; a BLT; fisherman's chowder; and the best, a mocha cappuccino and a massive blueberry muffin after shuffling through the rain for two hours.

The best part of my trip, however - it was Sunday morning and we were heading from our hostel bedroom down to the breakfast room. The girls and I were walking down the narrow corridor in single file - Wendy in front and me in back. Two guys passed us on the left. For some reason, I decided to look up and I made eye contact with the second guy. We stared at each other, turning our heads as we walked past to maintain eye contact. I stopped walking. He stopped walking. I said, "Whoa." He said, charmingly, "What the F." Who is this mysterious stranger?

MIKE PASKO. For those of you who don't know, I have known Mike since I was a little third grader at Christ the King Elementary School. We were in the same class, we were in student council together, we went to high school together, we hung out in DC together, we're basically best friends. I knew he was studying in Brussels this semester, but I hadn't talked to him. Somehow, we end up in a random foreign country on the same weekend, in the same hostel, in the same cafeteria, AT THE SAME TIME. How do these things happen? It totally made my life. I ended up seeing him two more times - once randomly out in the street - and we just shook our heads at each other. What else could we do? The world is so small.

I've hardly had any internet time (or free time for that matter), so that explains the huge blog gap. Things are well, I suppose. Our shower no longer drains. That's kind of a shame, especially since I just realised I still have conditioner in my hair (14 hours later). Also because one of these days, our shower is going to overflow, the flat below us is going to have mildew seeping into their kitchen, it's going to be all my fault and I won't care because I might BE CLEAN FOR ONCE. I'm tired of turning the water on for five seconds and then turning it off so it can collect at my feet and drain for the next 8 1/2 minutes. Nichole complained to our RA, Jamie, about the problem, so she called up the maintenance man. This is actually the second time this has been a problem, and the maintenance man has already come once. Nichole overheard the maintenance man on the phone, who sighed loudly when he heard about the repeat drain-clogging problem and growled, "What are they - BEARS?!" We are bears indeed. Growl.

I saw a little girl on the tube that totally reminded me of Lexie. I almost starting bawling. Mommy and Daddy, I got your package today. Thank you so much - I can't wait to curl my hair! Can you send Lexie next? (I miss the rest of you, too, by the way - no worries)

Clyde came to my work today. He came up behind me at my desk and put his hands on my shoulder and kind of started massaging them. Creepy. So I talk to him for a little bit and jokingly say, "Yeah, the best part of my job is that Sara sits right over there (I point), so I can make faces at her all day long!" So Clyde laughs and says, "I'm going to go say hi to Sara!" So he leaves and I turn to Fran and we both giggle over how ridiculous he is. All of a sudden, she stops and goes, "Wait, does he know someone else here, too?" Clyde had gone over to another girl - who he THOUGHT was Sara - and started massaging her shoulders from behind as well. It was not Sara. It didn't even look like Sara. I thought I was going to fall through the floor laughing. So embarrassing. Poor girl. It's bad enough to be groped by someone who actually knows you.

I had to do the Barometer at work today. Basically I act as a sort of telemarketer, asking how business compares to last year and also about the best selling brands from last month. It's the worst job in the world. You get rejected an obscene amount of times. I had some man ask me what part of Canada I was from. I recited my spiel to one lady - "Hi, I'm calling from [I'm paranoid that my boss is going to find this blog] magazine. We're doing our monthly Barometer survey and I was wondering if you could answer a few questions about your business sales for me." - to which she responded, "I did not understand ONE WORD you just said to me!" Welcome to my world. You're from Scotland. I made calls for seven hours and got 14 responses. Awful. I also discovered that I have a lisp when saying the world "jewellery" (ju-wee). BIG PROBLEM!! I sound like a six-year-old without my two front teeth, considering I am forced to say "jewellery" at least 13 times during my question harrassing (more when they make me repeat it because of my apparent Canadian accent!!). I'll never get my dream job at Hooked on Phonics now.

I got back my second BLC paper last week. We had visited Warwick Castle and Stratford-upon-Avon and it was bloody awful. There were wax figurines at Warwick, acting out various imagined party scenes. Stratford was mind-blowing, too - we walked through this dingy house - where our guide would excitingly say to us, "It's rumoured that William Shakespeare once ate dinner IN THIS ROOM." So I thought to myself - "Self, you can either completely BS this paper and talk about how wonderful it all was, or you can be honest and say how ridiculous it was." Naturally, I went for the bashing. I said that Stratford was a tourist trap. I said that the man who didn't even have his plays published in his lifetime would roll over in his grave if he saw the fuss that was being made over his hometown. And I think I might have said that our days in England are numbered so why are we wasting our precious time walking in rooms where he may or may not have consumed a meal, instead of going to see his life passion performed in the theatre - because it's not like his genius is going to overtake our bodies upon entering his future wife's former kitchen. I also could have said that I had better things to do with my day - like clean our bathroom floor with my roommate's toothbrush. Sadly, I had the misfortune of having the Shakespeare teacher grade my paper because she handed it back with a 76 scrawled across the top with a note on the bottom that said, "The fact that you thought Shakespeare was a waste of time doesn't make for a very engaging BLC paper." RAGE. I am fighting that. You'd think an English teacher would be able to "engage" in critical thinking. Or reading comprehension.

Anyway, that is all. I just polished off a fourth of a pan of my flatmates' Crispy M&M brownies. Eeesh. I wouldn't have eaten that much except that I had to even out my tracks.

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