The World Awaiting

Herp Didly

2010-08-05T00:13:00.006-04:00

Some of the Ireland gang has had the joy to see Danny-Dawg's (not May) latest youTube vids post just recently. I've finally slowed down enough and having that glimpse of life over there again has gotten me to finally get back on this blog. But that's not why i write. The real treat was the walk along the bay in Galway which happens here. I could be taking way more advantages of these kind of walks now I've started working.

A few of us from E/Btown and abroad all had the same idea and bought tickets to Lollapalooza this weekend for 3 days of hanging out in Chi-city so there will be a good chance, relatively, that some pics may be ending up on here. I haven't seen ANY of these guys live yet so it'll great to put a face with the voice. I hope, at least. It could get real good seeing BBU perform live after dancing to this so much; I'll be sure to get back with the surprises of the weekend.

By the way, for any of those interested.. the new season of the English Premier League is starting back up soon if you ever wanted to try and pick a team to follow. I should be payed for saying stuff like this but it really is a great arena to watch as long as the guy below stays out of it.

Just imagine how many more conversations you could have with dan and i!

Well Hello, ahem

2010-06-21T22:52:00.003-04:00

Chris and I have both discussed putting a little more time into this thing. For me it's like an accidental journal--I have a ball going back and reading through all of our posts.

Since I don't really have the motivation to make up a big post tonight, but figure any post will positively affect that motivation in the future, I'll recommend that the reader check out the Walkmen. They're a band, and they're pretty great. Rogue Wave, too.

The Besnard Lakes

2010-05-26T06:36:00.000-04:00

Leuven Town Hall, Gothic

2010-03-21T01:54:00.007-04:00

So while studying this evening I came across a bit about Gothic architecture. New appreciation for Gothic architecture: because I see that the people of the time (13th-15th Centuries-ish) were really just into things that challenged the mind. Gothic cathedrals bristle with detail; everything that can have flourish, does. The designers of the time, in this instance the great Cathedral architects (at San Francisco in Assisi, or Notre Dame in Paris), seem to have been given free reign to just dive into ideas, backed by the appreciation (funding) of society.

I was looking through some pictures I happened to snap in Leuven, Belgium (whose borders include a region more commonly referred to in history as Flanders), where Gothic style thrived in full fashion, when I came across this visual ride.

The Leuven Town Hall, built between 1439 and 1463 (Late Gothic).

There are so many flavors of symmetry shooting across this thing it seems impossible to count them. The average Joe Gothic, strolling home through the middle of town some nice Belgian day, looks up and grins at this towering monument to the mind's ability to embellish. He says to himself that his city, Leuven, his home, Flanders, is a place where on any given day, if you have a second, you could let yourself get lost in how intricately the human mind can shape the world around it. That's pretty great.

.

Something else I like:

2010-03-10T20:22:00.003-05:00

Fences on top of hills. I always like to imagine something wild on the other side.

Veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

2010-03-04T16:24:00.001-05:00

eeeeeeeeeery funny, great song.

70 Million by Hold Your Horses ! from L'Ogre on Vimeo.

From a quick hike at Monroe lake (10 min drive from campus).

IS THAT GREEN IN MY WOODS??

Awesome!

2010-02-28T21:09:00.000-05:00

This is intensely good. I really couldn't tell you why. It's one of those.

Bowerbirds "In Our Talons" from Alan Poon on Vimeo.

Tell Me

2010-02-24T12:41:00.003-05:00

I think the worst part about it being cold and snowy today is that I'll be damned if it wasn't sunny and in the 50's two days ago. When nature hands you delicious, honey-suckle spring you really just want it to stay like that forever. When you wake up and it never happened, and the sky's grey and snow is falling slow like spite, it stings.
Then again, at least Spring is fighting. Hell, I like that a lot. Who am I to pout?

Bibio - Lovers' Carvings

2010-02-18T12:18:00.007-05:00

This song (and the album it comes from) reminds me of Keith's place near Malaga (I wanna call it San Pedro). Warm, sunny, stained purple with cheap Rioja; I like those memories.

Makes me think of Céline and Declan's cooking, underwater cameras, pretending to be gay with your friends when the prostitutes take offense if you say no and say you're lying when you tell them you have a girlfriend. Makes me think of the beaches, looking for pretty rocks and wandering around letting all the cool little bits of culture wash over me, spicy like good tapas.
Makes me think of some surreal days and some unreal nights, and the moments in between when I'd stop to take a breath and think alright, alright.
Get back out there.

In any case, solid song.

Surfers and Old Men

2010-02-16T01:17:00.002-05:00

Small Black 'Despicable Dogs'
Cool song, cool video: sorted.

Club to the Head

2010-02-14T17:36:00.005-05:00

On my first trip with the Mountaineering Club we hiked a trail around and through the Twelve Pins (or Twelve Pens), and my life was changed. I don't think I'd ever been so unexpectedly delighted by an experience. I've used that hike, the things I felt and the limitations I had to fight through, as one of many models--like standards, a blueprint with just the foundation filled in-- for a good time ever since.

When you do something that challenges you, physically or mentally, it makes your brain go on a kind of roller coaster ride of stresses and highs. Like what? Anything risky, daring, strenuous; really anything that, when you see it or consider it, you want to do but that you usually, somehow talk yourself out of, would work. If you do something challenging and fun, like hiking, or picking a bold song in kareoke, or busting out whatever McGoogley dance it is that possesses your 'better' judgement when you're beyond drunk, your mind has the time of its life. Let loose and be the self you feel best being. I almost think that it's the memory made by the action that ends up being the best incentive. Good or bad, win or loss, at least you did something that one day that you'll think about again, and be like 'Really, self?', and you'll either be lame and embarrassed or you'll say 'Damn straight. I need to do stupid stuff more often. Also, I'm going hiking tomorro-no, today.' I think that those kind of memories are priceless.

You'll live there too, one day

2010-02-12T19:43:00.000-05:00

Sass and Class

2010-02-07T12:36:00.000-05:00

Ghosts??

2010-02-05T12:06:00.002-05:00

A beery 'well done'.

2010-02-02T21:12:00.014-05:00

Another great, great song. Really listened to it for the first time today over some tea and studies...give it a slow listen, and let it assume whatever form your thoughts are in. Then listen again, maybe.
Dream House, 'Apple Orchard'

The pic was taken from on top of Limerick Castle during one ISS trip. John Hennigan was standing to my left, talking mad trash about Limerick. The stadium is Thomond Park, home of Munster Rugby.

I had managed to find a job with a cafe at the school where they'd call me whenever they needed help with catering. Most of the time they'd have me bike out to some part of Galway, black pants, black socks, dress shoes (uncomfortable as all get out, a 6 Euro buy from Penney's), and dress shirt in towe. There were two times, though, when I'd meet some coworkers early at the school where we'd hop into our boss' car and motor south towards Limerick. At this stadium, we'd get out and pass through security, under the complex, up a tunnel and out into a giant tent where we'd cater the Supporter's Club.

This was a fun crowd. Some were Munster legends; most were just fans. Diehard fans. There'd be about 20 servers, our party included, and we'd constantly weave through the tables, putting down food or beer or picking them back up. I'd always try to be fairly social with the people between speeches and songs, shooting the shit while bending and reaching between them. A couple of them would pick on me for my accent.

One guy, big guy, was sitting there at this table full of lumberjacks and emptied pints. Someone asks me something about the food and when I answer the big guy gets this big grin on his face. In a voice half chuckle and half Limerick, he tells me I have a funny way of talking.

This was a table full of drunken ex-rugby players and I guessed I thought we'd get along.

I meet his eyes and in what I will admit was a half-hearted attempt at an Irish accent, I tell him his isn't the prettiest, either.

For a second that felt like 10 I stand there grinning like an ass at him before one smiles and the rest laugh and the big guy grabs my hand with his paw and tells me well done. I almost dropped my tray walking away because I couldn't give two shits where I was going.

Hint: How can you look behind you while still facing forward?

2010-02-02T00:55:00.011-05:00

I'm going to take some advice and start a kinda thing where I put up a picture from whatever shenanigans I've been up to for the past few years. I've done some interesting stuff, or at least interesting to me, hence the decision to maybe trick myself into recording some visual moods or settings from my past. Assuming the internet doesn't explode, this blog's content should stick around for a while...well into the years when I might develop an appreciation for windows into my past. So, I hope you enjoy, too, if you want to.

There won't be a theme or any kind of trajectory, but I might throw an explanation on a couple of them...consider them little journal entries. For the ones without any text...guess! There's no competition in it; have fun making up some setting...a Where's Waldo in reverse.

Oh, this song is terrific. White Lies, 'Death'.

If anyone would like to know anything about any of the pictures, just ask in the comments! For this one, remember...where's Waldo? Check the labels ;)

Velvet

2010-01-08T16:05:00.008-05:00

Here's a very cool song by The Big Pink, a duo from foggy London towne. Thanks, BBC (more than one winner on that page). I was skating across campus with Dave the other day and this song, plus the cold, plus skating made for a pretty great trip.

'Velvet'

Lyrics from their site.
'I've seen it in my hands, burn in my heart
Seen it in my past, back in my home
But does it make sense to see her again?
I don't, know
I felt it for some time, and not at all
Poison in my head, god love hurts
I'm not looking for love, but it's hard to resist
I don't recall being this dead

She's the only one, lost the best I had
I found her in a dream, looking for me
This heart's on fire, I'll bring myself
Up to fall, and down again

These arms of mine
Don't mind who they hold
So should I maybe, Just leave love alone
You call out my name, for the love you need
But you wont find it in me

These arms are mine
Don't mind who they hold
You're made for me, and I'll leave love alone
You call out my name for the love you need
But you wont find it in me

I've seen it in my hands, burn in my heart
Seen it in my past, back in my home
But does it make sense to see her again?
I don't, know

I can see the end of what I begun
A tale of a love, come and gone
But now my love, no promises
I won't go, falling in love'

Concerning Pheonixii

2010-01-07T17:21:00.005-05:00

My nerve broke on the growing of facial hair again, so I've shaved. From the ashes of my fledgeling beard, though, a new idea is borne into the world.

The cheeky mustache.

Edit: Can't see it, but it's there.

Seriously a cockpit?

2010-01-05T15:06:00.005-05:00

First day of school tomorrow. Orientation, 12:15 pm. BUT Chris is coming up to Bloomington tonight and I JUST finished season 2 of Skins, so mischief is afoot.

The song is 'The Gardener' by The Tallest Man on Earth.

Driving back sooooo early

2009-12-30T05:55:00.004-05:00

Oh man, it's been a while since I was awake before the sun. It's been so long that I feel weird, like I walked in on someone using the bathroom and need to make an awkward and unnecesary excuse before leaving like 'Oh sorry dude it's super early heh I'll be outside'. It's like that, but it's the sun, and I can't go back to bed because I have to drive.

Turns out Serge Gainsbourg sounds pretty cool in the AM.

This one doesn't make much sense at all. Fun ass wedding, though.

Part 1

Part 2

Chicks of the Sea.

2009-12-29T17:31:00.005-05:00

Again, hit play and check this thing I made from a picture I shouldn't have taken. I didn't even know those people.

The song is 'My Maker' by the Heartless Bastards. For the record, there is zero correlation between the songs and the picture things. I just like the songs, or maybe listened to it while making the picture thing it's paired with. Idk, see if you can have fun with any of it, because why else take the time to come to this obscure little corner of the internet instead of, like, reading or something.

The stream, too!

2009-12-28T12:28:00.005-05:00

Here's another!

Ahhhhh, Connemara. The song is 'Home' by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.

Something New

2009-12-27T23:49:00.014-05:00

First, play this.

It's that Braids song, 'Lemonade'. I know they're from Canada, and live together in a house where they basically work on their music and making me jealous. I super duper digg that raking guitar line, and it makes my sea monster less scary.

I made this with Gimp, which was free, and a picture I took one time, which was also free.
Edit: I made a couple more and had fun doing it. I'll post one a day until I run out.

This, too

2009-12-27T23:03:00.001-05:00

This is what I've been doing for two months.

I am: Rail Rider from Daniel May on Vimeo.

Does anyone know anything about this painting?

2009-12-27T22:24:00.004-05:00

The centerpiece of my collection, it hangs proudly and anonymously above my desk. It's super cool. It is some kind of oil painting of a forest with a clear sky blue working its way through the trunks and boughs of the forest trees. I'm pretty sure it's a Monet (I have no idea).

In any case this is a poor example, but I'm currently in Virginia and left to my resources...namely a blurry, awkwardly framed photo.

ANYBODY??

Moment in time

2009-12-19T21:36:00.008-05:00

My flatmate Taylor and I have been drooling about this for about an hour now. See if it doesn't snag you, too.

LINKHAHA

About this time last year I went to Prague and discovered the city in which I'm destined to abide. This is a 360 degree view of the city from the Prague TV Tower.

A while back I wrote this about walking through this park during a trip last Christmas. I had always been curious about Prague, the one time center of the Austrian empire and current Czech capitol. When a friend expressed a need for a travel partner, I snagged a RyanAir flight to the prestigious city. While there I had adventures and took some pictures that offer a tiny bit of perspective on why I think the aforementioned site is so cool.

The 360 perspective is taken from the tall, skinny building right of center. I didn't actually make it to that side of the city during my stay. I mainly soaked in the old quarter, because I'm the most historically nerdy person I know.

Again, right of center, tallest thing on there. I had a ball exploring the city on foot, and it's cool to realize how close I can zoom in on the bench on the side of that hill where a park trail inspired me to write a post, a year ago. See if you can use clues from my pictures and the one in the pic link (the author of whom I'd like to thank) to zoom in on where I took them. A challenge. Dynamism.

I think Prague was and is one of my top 5 favorite places on the planet. Some cities in the world feel like they have a kind of soul, like a mood that just consumes you when you're there. Edinburgh, Carainne, Galway, San Pedro, Leuven, Bloomington, Marracech, Belfast, London--all of them, actually, that I've been lucky enough to have experienced have some individual spell that they cast when you eat their food and see their sights. They all have their own culture, and weather, and language, for three; but in Prague Jose Gonzalez strummed and sang in my ears so perfectly that I felt like I was in a little bubble of heaven where everything looked and felt like a movie scene. It was there that I sat sharing eye contact and smiles with the prettiest girl in the city on a bus for ten minutes and almost got back on because I'd never felt so awkwardly exhilarated. I guess all the places I've been have had something like that, like memories that attached themselves to a mood, or a sense of whatever life felt like while I was there.

Being able to zoom in so impressively close on the places in this city that made their mark on me is a wonderful thing on which to invest an evening.

Another music post

2009-12-18T21:30:00.003-05:00

Here's another one of these Takeaway Shows that have been dominating my ears and eyes lately. I've never heard of the band and am entirely unable to find any more info about them, but I'd love to hear more if anyone else has had better luck!

Braids

The director is Vincent Moon.

Consideration Station

2009-12-02T18:41:00.001-05:00

I'm thinking about using my new job (kinda the director of one of the largest wine selections in the state) as a jumping off point to start a little wine blog. Wine, music, blah de blah. In any case, I'll let you know!

am i really all the things that are outside of me?

2009-11-18T21:54:00.004-05:00

I came across this video yesterday from the excellent music site La Blogotheque (with some help from Zach and a particularly Bon-Iver-y morning) and am absolutely amazed at the musical talent of Animal Collective. They are covering another of their songs (here), a favorite of mine. Their style of songwriting repeatedly blows my mind, and has created some of the loveliest melodies I've ever heard. In this video they really impress me with the way they can, on a whim, create music from their surroundings. Watch for the cups in their hands.

Chirping?

2009-11-16T16:23:00.003-05:00

I know, I hear it too. Alright, I had an idea today about taking this blog into a new direction. Life is pretty different here in Bloomington from Galway, from France, from Elkhart, from South Carolina, from Virginia; but why shouldn't a life in Bloomington be just as interesting? I think it's extremely exciting to find my own place in this increasingly diverse city.

First up: transportation. I happened to have a last second impulse to grab a bike before I left the house in Elkhart to come to Bloomington. A choice between a green and black and rust colored mountain bike and my mom's old girl bike. The girl bike is christened 'Free Spirit' by a sticker on its side. Done deal. I haven't used it since because of longboarding. The guys (if I can keep up the blog, I'm sure they'll be introduced) have been doing it for years and I can see why.

Longboard, Shplongboard from Daniel May on Vimeo.

More video's to follow as I progress. Check out vimeo, the player, for more of my videos and a very cool site.

A Clearing (of intentions)

2009-09-08T00:13:00.002-04:00

Well, folks, Chris and I are (officially speaking) back in the states. He has gracefully sidled his way back into the Scholar's Tower that is Rose Hulman, while I've been lazing around, mostly, helping family move and keeping a close watch on wine shelf of our local Aldi. As to last night's excitement, I finally found it within myself to rouse whatever dragon was sleeping on top of my immediate ambition. Lofty dreams of a return across the pond are fine and well, but I've had enough reminiscing and relaxing for the time being. I started checking into schools, and found that some that I had previously lemon-faced because of prices are, to my surprise, not so sour. I'll not name names, but I'm pretty excited for the coming Spring. Flowers and thaw aside, I'm looking forward to a return to academia. I'll try to keep the ol' blog going with what updates I can, but something tells me hikes into the forest of South Carolina may not keep up the interest of this spoiled audience no matter what kind of cool bugs I find along the way (last time-no kidding-I found a nest of scorpions). We'll see! Thanks for hanging in there, pals.

-Daniel

By George

2009-09-07T03:11:00.001-04:00

This may not be the end. More info as it becomes available. I'm so excited I could cry.

I need to write something

2009-04-21T14:02:00.003-04:00

Ass and boobs. Kitten stomping. Sorry for that, but you'll read the rest, now.

This is a wonderful, wonderful world, and I love finding that out. I love it.

I know that there is still a month left until May 27th (one year from when I started this blog (I know because I just tabbed and looked)), but the blog needs a post and this is what I was thinking about at the time. I'm going to allow myself to be a little e-cocky, because I've actually done what I said I wanted to do in that first post. I am, if you will, livin' la vida loca. Well its not crazy, but its pretty good. I don't want to write it down because I'm scared I'll jinx it, like realizing you're dreaming before you wake up like Oh goddamnit it was a dream it had better come back and then slam your head into the pillow even though you know it won't runonnnnnnn but anyways what I don't want to write down is that I'm happy. I am happy, and I'm living my dream, every day I'm living my dream, my every hope and wish and I can look forward to doing it the next day and the next and it's like eating candy and cake and it tasting delicious every single time, like there's no such thing as too much of a good thing, because its not fatty and it won't make you sick because its just a feeling, you just feel good, you're just feeling good every day. One day maybe a new dream will come along and I'll conquer that one, too. But I hope you, Corley, or Uncle Alan, or person who came here from my facebook (did I just freak you out?), I hope you do the same (or, in the case of the first two, keep doing the same!). I don't wish you success, because its not about that. I wish you the desperation that makes it happen. I wish you the energy to buy a ticket, or start a blog, or awkwardly ask out that girl from near Avignon that you drunkenly kissed at the 80's night because she looked cute in those obnoxious glasses. I wish you the cockiness, the stubbornness, the audacity (of hope? ahhhhh). I think I wish you the spark. And I really do. Why wouldn't I? I might not read your blog, but I'll look at your pictures, and share stories over some kind of substance, and smile like we're both in on it, some awesome secret that's not secret at all.

And I'm young and it might all fall apart and I might show up again next year depressed and bored and whiny but, hell, for a year, I was bliss incarnate. I was Dukes mayonnaise and ham on a sandwich. I was Phaeton rising, and I'd better not ever forget it.

Moodin' and Settin' -> Killarney Edition

2009-03-15T10:26:00.004-04:00

If any of you happen to make it to Ireland someday you MUST visit the Ring of Kerry area. To me, its the best scenic spot in the country, provided the weather plays along. Dingle, a little north of Kerry, is a great spot too. I've gotten a little adicted to the spot and have been down here the last two weekends now, climbing Ireland's highest summit yesterday! I forgot my camera in the chaos of packin at the last minute, Chris Durkin style, so I'll be bummin pics off of someone to post on my flickr and, for the really good ones, here on the site.

In my opinion, the hostel to be at in the main town of the Kerry region, Killarney, is the Neptunes. We stayed here last weekend with the ISS crowd and the hostel was tolerant enough of us for us to still have a good time haha. I'm here again, bummin some internet before NUIGMC heads back for Galway. For the last half hour they have been playin The Postal Service and didn't mind at all if I chilled without staying here this weekend. So here's my shout-out to 'em. I know it will help them so much with our tons of traffic through this blog!

This past weekend as been the Ireland you see in the movies, absolutely beautiful and charming. I hope it lasts through the week for Bob's sake! Hopefully it's "bucket-list" caliber!

Moodin' and Settin'

2009-03-14T17:43:00.003-04:00

For those of you who read this to stay updated on our experience in Ireland, I'm happy to report that we're both very happy. Chris' brother gets here tomorrow, and we'll show him a funktacular time.

For those of you who come here to know what music I listen to to find my mood for the day, this was it, today: braaaaaaow-na-naowww!

I was a badass.

Edit: Kudos to Chris for knowing how to inbed videos. I do not.

Edit:Edit: Kudos also to anyone that knows that it's spelled 'imbed'. I left in the other way because it's funny.

Kicking it in Achill Island

2009-02-26T19:11:00.007-05:00

Last saturday night the NUIGMC (mountaineering club) took up a good half of the local pub and rocked out. Little did we know what talent lied around us until this man stepped up and took the stage. His rendition combined the "Day-O" song and "Wild Rover", the latter of which is one of the more popular irish songs I've heard so far. This song in the vid was the funnest of the night but listening to the hostel/pub manager, his wife, and the bartender playing and singing until 5 in the morning also made for a relaxing and very irish night. I love it.

My flickr photostream also had some newpics.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/24556641@N03/?saved=1

RAG Week

2009-02-24T07:45:00.003-05:00

Day one down, and my liver still works. RAG week is a special time in Ireland. During this week, the forces of charity and debauchery combine, encouraging everyone in town (not just students) to go balls-to-the-walls party mode, donating whenever a bucket appears. Yesterday, I started at four in the afternoon and did not stop until three in the morning. I was made fun of for being weak. A friend of mine brewed some homemade apple-wine/liquor/moonshine which we affectionately call 'hooch'. When I talk to my mom on skype, I'm going to tell her I've been hitting the hooch pretty hard. What fun! For all I know there are still people out there who haven't stopped since Sunday night. You can see them on the streets: the ones in bathing suits so they don't ruin their clothes in the afternoon foam parties. The ones with questionable stains on their shirts and a reckless, vacant gleam in their eyes like 'Yeah, I'm drunk at noon and yes, that's dried pee on my pants. Join me or feck off.' My fingernails on one hand are painted hot pink and, hot shit, I'm both unable to scratch it off and entirely unsure under what context it occurred. Day one down, my liver still works, and this is going to be a fun week.

In other news, my sister is a funny drunk.

My kind of marathon

2009-02-13T09:14:00.005-05:00

Not only did I just finish hour three of a school-organized twelve-hour Lord of the hot-damn Rings marathon, but I will recieve, upon completion, a tee-shirt celebrating my completion of a twelve hour Lord of the Rings marathon. Words...cannot describe. I'll keep you posted.

Update: I made it. We don't get the t-shirt for like a week. I will wear that thing like a tabard. Believe it or not, I have watched those movies so much that I have developed the ability to predict, at any point in the movie, what will happen in x amount of minutes. I shit you not. Like, say, when the fellowship is outside the gates of Moria, I predicted the exact camera shot that would take place 15 minutes later. 14 minutes and 30 seconds later, bam. I am a Lord of the Rings God. What did you do with your Friday night?

Edit: I rule. Also, this is a picture of some cool art project (I think?) on one of the greens on campus.

hiking the twelve bens

2009-02-09T08:09:00.007-05:00

So I managed to get out of bed (after 12+ hrs of sleep!) and joined the mountaineering club for the day on a hike through the Twelve Bens. It was a perfect day for hiking despite it being cold and snowy. The snow actually helped make it one of my favorite trips of the school year so far. Here are a few pics and a vid as proof.

**Edit - I just found a photo album online of one of the fella's who also hiked last sunday. His camera was a little better than mine and he took some great shots. http://picasaweb.google.com/p.oflynn1/PhotoSByLucasValentini#

He quips

2009-02-08T09:09:00.005-05:00

I left my sunglasses in a bag for too long and now they have some blotches on them that I can't get off no matter how much spit and thumb pressure I apply; but even though wearing them feels like I have something on my eyeball, it's a damn fine day out. Like that scene in 'We're Back' when the dinosaurs join some parade and Rex (I think) sings that song ('Roll back the clock to the dawn of time and sing this song with meeee')(I think). Or in 'Ferris Beuler's Day Off' when they join some parade and the whole city starts going nuts. Anyways, I'm pretty excited for spring. Also pretty excited for parades.

The straight dope

2009-02-05T08:59:00.001-05:00

We don't have internet at home (our ISP has a virus?), so we've been syphoning some from the school's free wifi. That's (probably) why there have been few updates. On the bright side, this has given us a reason to not waste so much time online. I've learned three new languages and Elvish, and Chris has literally built a car in our room.

The package mystery

2009-01-28T13:07:00.008-05:00

A couple weeks before Christmas--before I went to Prague, in fact--my mom told me she had sent a huge package. When it didn't show the Friday before I left, I assumed it'd be there when I got back. It wasn't. It didn't come the following week, or the next, or even within the month. Here, at the end of January, I have come home from work to find an object huddled in the hallway of my apartment. I have received what I believe is the remnants of said package.

Here's what I believe happened the the package.

I carefully opened the package, fighting back the unwelcome feeling that I wasn't the first to do so. The boxing was wet with rain, weak and breaking off under my grip. Children and those with weak hearts, look away. This is what I found.

The horror.

The curse of good tea

2009-01-21T08:44:00.003-05:00

Chris and I have gotten semi-addicted to drinking tea lately. We had some sort of mint tea in Morocco that was more sugar than liquid and have since been rampaging through the world of tea trying to sate our thirst for more. I've become particularly fond of some Orange-Peppermint tea that my mom sent me from a trip to Oregon. Chris brought back some Mint tea from Elkhart that we've been hitting up, as well. However, the gods of teadom have smote us in our greed and lust for tea, shorting out not one, but TWO kettles, leaving us isolated and tealess in this rainy, tea-perfect weather. We would bring them to the main office, but we're pretty intimidated by Frank.

Update: I decided to skip my last class, due in most part to being hungry but also because writing that post pushed me into action. I brought the carcass of our most recent kettle to Frank, and, wouldn't you know it, he was classy and kind. He gave me their newest received model, and told me not to hesitate before coming back again. Frank, World Awaiting is a fan.

Snowboarding to Tarter

2009-01-15T06:39:00.003-05:00

By popular demand, with me being the majority, the video is out! It's a little rough at the end but stick with it. The views do get better.

Oh, man, Hemingway. Oh man.

2009-01-11T19:36:00.004-05:00

During the break, the one that ends tomorrow, I've taken up as many Hemingway works that my school library can offer and here, at the end, I finished a short story collection, The Snows of Kilimanjaro. The last one, Big Two-Hearted River, was the best thing I have ever read. I don't even know how to talk about it. Its like the walk home after kissing a girl for the first time; breathless, smug, thrilled. Heartbroken. I want to go fishing. I want to look my dad in his smokey brown eyes and smile wide, like I know some secret, then hug him. Hug him and feel stronger than I am for how hard I squeeze.
But that's what reading Hemingway does to me, just about every time. Utterly ridiculous. Manly-mad. Like a giant tied to the earth.

Proof.

2009-01-09T12:15:00.008-05:00

Back in Galway with a decent internet connection now, so here goes! The picture on the right is from up above Pas de la Casa, the town we stayed at. I'm having troubles uploading the video of a blue run, so thats pending...

More pictures are up on my flickr account now too. http://www.flickr.com/photos/24556641@N03/

Zombie Outbreak/New Author(s) Pic

2009-01-08T21:23:00.002-05:00

1. Spent the evening at Brendan's eating stir-fry and watching zombie movies. I believe that, should the worst occur and the world be hit with a zombie type deal, I could be pretty clutch at surviving.
2. I changed the old banner picture at the bottom to one that showcases your intrepid exploring authors.

Xmas / Pas de las Casa, Andorra

2009-01-07T14:52:00.003-05:00

Hey all, back again. A few things have happened since the last time I posted so here's a short update. With a week to go until christmas and finals done, I could'nt hold out any longer against returning home for a short break. I think it all boils down to the Elvis xmas album I bought, a Durkin tradition, being the last straw. So I left for Dublin 2 days after buying the ticket......aaaand forgot my passport, it was 6:30 in the morning and after I had arrived to Dublin Airport when i realized this! Long story very short, Aileen saved my sorry butt and crawled out of bed, got my passport from my apartment and hopped on a train to Dublin - arrivign 20 mins before my flight was scheduled to leave. She's amazing, thats the bottom line.

Break was a blast. Being a bar in Elkhart was something I wasn't quite ready for. I recognized people who were seniors when I first entered high school - was a bit of a trip. Even some teachers I had were there haha. It was great seeing everyone again. Only my mom knew I was coming back and that was only because I needed a ride from O'Hare.

Now I'm back in Europe on a ski trip in Andorra. I never knew this place existed before signing up for NUIG's ski club. It lies in between France and Spain and is super small. The mountains here are amazing, I have nothing really to compare them against as I have never ski'd anywhere else. Hitting the slopes was quite intimidating the first day out - I haven't been snowboarding in about 3 years, I think.

Pics and a vid to come once I get back to Galway.

The City of Swans and Broken Umbrellas, Part 1

2009-01-06T16:09:00.005-05:00

I haven't really said much about it, but Galway is lovely. Ask anyone. The Irish recommend it to tourists and nationals alike. I like it because when I walk from campus to town along the canal, the ducks and the swans paddle beside me, their wakes weaving and their beady eyes never leaving mine.

I like it because I can lace up my boots and walk twenty minutes in any direction and be in old Ireland. I can scale cliff walls and watch the sun do whatever it wants, then takes its hand in my descent. I can fish perched atop some crumbling castle wall or bailey, and for once not give a rat's ass that I can't catch a fish to save my day. A two hour bus ride delivers me into the mountains and I have to breathe deep and heavy to absorb it all and not lose it. I can go to the beach, a real beach, and lay out on the sand and watch my skin turn beat red and clammy, and see how long it takes me before the incoming or outgoing tide threatens my escape path or stinks up the seaweed, respectively, and I crack and put my clothes back on.

I like that I turned in my CV at three different places today, a bookshop, my gym, and a little restaurant and even though I'm not confident about any of them, I passed at least twenty more little places on my way home that would be fine, too. Irish medium wage equates to like $12.

Sometimes the Irish preteens have West Side Story style fights in the city center.

Old Irish people, no matter where or when you see them, city or country, dress like Sunday. Sunday every day.

One day I hiked far, to a place called Silver Strand, to watch the Galway Bay sun melt its way into the ocean. I smoked a cigarette on top of a cliff and stood as close as I could dare to the edge, because cigarettes buzz the hell out of me and I wanted time to slow down, and looking down at the ocean at the bottom of this cliff accentuated the whole thing for me. On my way down I asked an older man where the nearest bus stop was, because the tide had come in over a big part of my path, but mainly because I was still buzzed and getting lazy. His name was Paul. He told me in detail that it was a ways off and laughed at the look on my face. He said that if I could wait a minute he'd give a ride back to near town. I sat for a short time on the edge of the sidewalk until I heard him approach behind me and say, he's alright if I am. I smiled and almost got in the driver seat because the cars here are backwards, and he drove me to the edge of Salthill, and that isn't far at all from my house.

Resolutions

2009-01-01T10:54:00.001-05:00

I want to start yoga, but not so much for the health/relaxation reason, but because I've recently come across some really good music.

Walking down hills alone in Prague

2008-12-23T15:19:00.004-05:00

On my last night in Prague I decided to go for a walk. I grabbed my ipod and wallet, stuck a city map coded in Czech in my back pocket, and left the hostel. I took the 133 bus along the Vltava and into the Old Town Square, where the Christmas Market was at its largest. I tried hot wine, and it was gross. If hot wine is the only gross thing in the Czech Republic, as I suspect, then Prague is paradise. Everything else, every thing else, was wonderful. Hot wine, though, is normal cheap wine, but it's too hot to swallow in big gulps. I drank it slow, and every taste was pretty nasty. Everyone else in the square loved it, I think.

I wandered around the square for a while at this point, listening to the music and opening my nostrils wide to enjoy the atmosphere, the foods of the country all out in the open. Sausages of all kinds, steaming soups and broths filled to the brim with meats and cheeses, candy everywhere; I could have stood and sniffed all night, to be awkwardly honest. I had different plans, though, so I listened to the end of whatever band that was playing's set and took off north and across Charles Bridge with picturesque Prague Castle mounted high and far before me.

I can't begin to describe the layout of Prague's Old Town, on either side of the river, because that would be impossible. I can tell you that it's all slanted and red topped buildings, arrayed with no particular uniformity along crooked and cobbled streets, and that you can see it for miles from atop any ridge of the continuous series of hills that surround the city's west side. My favorite spots to climb--and this is hard to say, because the climb itself seemed to wind at every point through forests and parks, but back to my favorites--would be slowly and gradually through the thousands and thousands of steps leading to the castle gates or, with more assuredness, the great forested climb up to the Petřín Lookout Tower. We had mounted the steps to the tower during the day, some days before my walk, and I alone climbed the spiral case to the viewing point. We descended the hill in a different direction, through the forest coating the hillside and down into a grove of small trees. The last bit looked like a graveyard, during the day, and as we reached the bottom we turned to see an American flag waving from a ridge behind us. This was my other plan, though. I wanted to walk the path through and around this hill at night, and see what I could see.

I climbed the castle way and enjoyed inner Prague at night. I stopped in at a small, dimly lit restaurant and read Hemingway as the owner and a friend of hers spoke quietly at the bar. She was very friendly, though we couldn't understand a word of each other beyond 'goulash' and 'vittel', and I think I tipped her pretty well. I left and walked a street that climbed parallel to Petřín's hill, and I looked to my left over a wall into the valley created between, where the same small trees as the graveyard grow in uniformed lines across the trough between the two hills. A local had told me a couple days before that during the month of May, when the trees blossom into bright, pink flowers, local couples gather beneath their bows and kiss. Its tradition, and it brings them luck and love. Single girls, she told me, will grab any guy they can from the streets to kiss beneath these pink-flowered trees on this hillside, so they don't bring themselves bad luck. She said, so they don't shrivel up. I said I'd be back in May.

I walked looking down on this beside me for a while and then entered the path that first swings along the top of this valley and then climbs the taller hill across the way. I stopped at a bench halfway across and looked out over the city, dark and foggy but lit up in places by cars and cathedrals. The houses far away beneath me and the taller, less ancient buildings lining New Town far across the river were nothing compared the trees below me and around me. 'It's not that they were picturesque. The hell with picturesque. They are just damned beautiful.' I sat for a while, long enough to watch the last dog walkers and joggers leaving the dark woods to my right, before I got up to decide what to do next. I could go back to the left, return to the hostel, steal some food or start drinking, or I could wander right, into the tangled and haunted mess of wood that make up eastern European forests, along the hillside beneath the tower and back out through the graveyard. I wasn't scared, I was a little tired and--alright I was a little scared.

Later, after I'd gotten back to Ireland, I told Aileen that I heard the Prague Golem in the trees all around me, stalking me. I told her that when I got back to the hostel, Corrine told me that the news was reporting all about some woman who was attacked and whose dog was killed on the same hillside as me. That never happened. I heard stuff behind me, but it was my hair on my jacket hood, really.

I started on the path through the woods, alone and walking slow, because I learned a couple months ago that walking fast means you have shorter memories. There wasn't anyone else up there, and I turned off my ipod to listen to the wind. My God, what a moment. The lights lining the path ended abruptly about halfway through, but there was a full moon and it was bright. I could see and hear whispers of the city, still, through the jagged and bare branches above my head. How can I ever go back? How can I ever stop living like this, aloof and everywhere, desperate and never, never content? Most of the time I look ahead to more adventures, because I know now that there are so many, so many ways to live like I want to, so many opportunities to go on forever. But then I think, what if someday I stop being desperate, and sit still. That terrifies me. But some things have to scare you, I think. If you didn't get scared, comfort and warmth wouldn't be so lovely. If I didn't fear quiet contentment, the forests of Prague at night wouldn't feel so right in my soul. I left the forest along one of the paths into the graveyard, but it wasn't a graveyard. It was another grove for the lovers of Prague. I walked down the hill and into the city, passing slow under the bows of these trees, alone.

QUIZNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOS!!!

2008-12-15T13:33:00.002-05:00

I found it. I loved. I might actually work there.

I was shocked to find it because I walk the street it's on fairly often. I guess it opened in the last several weeks.

I go to find some snow

2008-12-12T17:05:00.002-05:00

Heading to Prague here in a couple hours, really trying to make a dent in one of my three (count them--three) history finals, but I am again crippled with laziness.

I really hope there is some snow in Prague. I haven't looked at the weather because I'm hoping for a surprise, but seeing as how every city on the continent (that I've been to) is decked out with lights and decorations, and Prague is perhaps the prettiest city in Europe (eat it, France), and seeing as how Prague has a famous Christmas market...it should be a pretty festive time with or without the white stuff.

My Christmas-Mood-Checklist:
Ipod equipped with Josh Groban, NSYNC, and Stephen Colbert Christmas Music? Check.
Wearing a scarf at all times, regardless of room temperature? Check.
Have a constant supply of Green/Black tea, filled with an arguably overabundant amount of sugar? Check.
Have a library of no fewer than four old-timey Christmas movies ready for viewing at any time? Check.
Maintaining an impressive, but economically sound festive decor on and around my desk? Check.
Wearing the one Christmas-themed shirt that I brought way to much--like probably not hygienically sound? Check.
Wishing my family was here? Double Check.

Back to JSTOR, and/or watching the Office UK clips on Youtube. One or the other.

Shooting stars of Morocco

2008-12-10T14:42:00.006-05:00

Again, I really can't bring myself to write a summary of our trip. It is a boring, vague, and mild way to pay tribute to such a dynamic and vibrant experience. I'll try to paint one of my memories, though, and maybe a few more with time.

Morocco was not what I expected. That sentence, by itself, could sum up my time in the country. It's Africa, officially. It does not feel like Africa. It felt more like Agribah than Pride Rock, more mongoose and cobra than lion and zebra. It wasn't a desert, either. We spent over twenty-two hours on a train making our way across the country's interior and back, and I don't remember any desert. I remember mountains, white-peaked and monstrous, and farms, flat and bare reaching to the horizon. I remember the stars, most of all, most of them immobile and steady, but some, my favorite, streaking in an instant across the sky, exploding and screaming in one amazing movement. I remember the people; they were so kind and helpful. They did not hesitate to help or ask for help. They didn't care where we were from, or why we were there, only that we had money to spend in the market. It's funny, actually. Despite cultural or religious differences or prejudice, there were goods to be exchanged, and people got along for transaction's sake. Money, in this odd scenario, acted as the great equalizer, a social lubricant. I'll admit it: walking through the market square of Marrakech, day or night, is a hassle. Everyone can and will sell you something. Some don't take 'no', or 'no thank you', or simple neglect as an answer. They're never mean, though.

My birthday was perfect. I can't go into everything that happened, because some of it was illegal, but that night was one of the most magical I have known.

Throughout the day we had heard a couple Calls to Prayer issued from the solitary high towers of the various Mosques. They would shout their message for several minutes and then stop, abruptly, like the end of a good movie. We were sitting on the roof of our hostel, right as the sun dipped below the edge of the city, when the last call of the day made its rounds. First one tower, and then all of them. It was like an air-attack siren, or a tornado alarm, but magnified and intensified by being echoed and reverberated off of a multitude of others. By the sound, there must have been two-hundred towers in the city. None of them were exactly synchronized, but all were shouting the same message. It was other-worldly. Deafening. I could only look on in awe at the city, struck dumb and lame by the chorus of praise overwhelming my senses. At that moment, my own beliefs were made obscure by the display of Islam--and the crazy thing is, this happens every day. The next night, same time, I sprinted up the spiral stairs of the hostel, taking care to duck the low ceilings where I had been less careful the night before, and there they were, awaiting my arrival. Whether one believes or not, the praise of Marrakech forges a moment of faith in the outlandish and supernatural; it stands as a testament to the zeal and devotion of man, a lonely minute where all the faith of a people streaks across the sky, exploding and screaming in one amazing movement.

Wait wait - Don't tell me!

2008-12-07T16:46:00.004-05:00

A mega-post about our last adventure will filter in here eventually, but until then, put on the Shins' 'New Slang' (old news and maybe becoming cliche, but on the ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar from Morocco to Spain, it hit the spot harder than any song, ever) and check out this quote from a recent convo with Jasper:

(Talking about exams next week)
Jasp: I think the city will be pretty empty next week.
Jasp: ghost pubs
Me: yeah
Jasp: only tourists maybe, older people
Jasp: and Dan and Chris walking around
Jasp: totally wasted

I thought it poignant and mysteriously epic. We love our Belgian, anyways.

In Iberia

2008-12-02T14:57:00.003-05:00

Just to keep you posted: Chris and I, along with a good group of friends, arrived in Faro, Portugal on Saturday. We kicked it around there for a day or two (more details later, I promise), before hopping on a coach for Sevilla, Spain. What a beautiful, orange-green orange-tree countryside. Really, there are oranges everywhere. Tomorrow, at some point, we set out heading for Morocco and the mysteries within.
As for me, I am sitting in the hostel common room, amidst some thumping reggae and a political discussion between an American, an Aussie, and what I think might be a German, trying to exercise once and for all these essays from my system. Goodbye, for now!

More Thanksgiving!

2008-11-28T14:29:00.006-05:00

Huge shout out to Claire for putting together the thanksgiving festivities yesterday - what a blast! She cooked about 3 pies, 2 turkey's and others...I lost count.

It was amazing how much food, great food we had. Dan and I both ended back over there t0 help clean *cough* and munch on leftovers. Was the best way to spend the next day recovering haha. I have to say something about the football game too... Ya, the indians did get romped pretty well, but the spirit we had was great. There were 3 guys per team to, you know, keep it fair. For the indians there was me and 2 irish fellas. They didn't know how to play football americano but they went all out. Passing after crossing the line of scrimmage, rushing without being blitzed, they had no fear whatsoever. I'm glad they joined us for the day. They claimed it was their best Thanksgiving ever haha.

After the game, we had at least 15 pies waiting for us - no joke. The was followed up by cleaning, more drinking and headin out to the Living Room, a drinking spot downtown. Here a short vid I took of the gang hangin out at Claire and Tara's...

And another thing, what is Dan eating here? We couldn't figure it out.

Flickr has been updated with the latest pics too.

Dan: Seriously, does anyone know what that is? It was very bendy, but it had bone-like chunks inside of it. The meat was tougher, but still pretty tasty. My guess is a segment of the spine?

CHILI, chili, chilaaay!

2008-11-28T14:16:00.003-05:00

When first being laughed at for a possible turkey day dish, it came through! Had a good spiciness to it - Not too hot and I like to think enjoyable to even those that dont appreciate the hotter side of things. I could make a habit of this! mmmmm

See the recipe here: http://southernfood.about.com/od/crockpotchili/r/bl85c7.htm

Sorry, turkeys of the world

2008-11-27T13:58:00.007-05:00

I'd like to make a big shout-out to my family. Basically everything on my Thankful-List relates to them, and without their support and love I'd be a shriveled little man begrudgingly dreaming of being abroad. Chris would more than likely agree, but he is in the shower washing away the mud and blood and sweat from our "Turkey Bowl" football game. Let me paint you a picture: a huge group of drunken Americans in a muddy, pock-marked field surrounded by the apartments and hotels of confused Irish onlookers. All the Americans are in tie-dye shirts, sporting either a Pilgrim hat or a Teepee, and making vulgar threats at each other while playing good (sloppy), old fashioned (chaotic), Yank Football. My team, the Mighty Pilgrims, beat Chris' team, the Dejected Indians. At the end, everyone pretty much went nuts, taking running dives into the mud and practicing their form tackles by slinging opposition players into the sloppier bits. Chris and I faced off in the midst in what can only be described as an epic duel, and the results were at best inconclusive. We got filthy.
Boasting aside, we all joined forces and cobbled together what may be the best tasting Thanksgiving dinner of my life (I said 'may', Mom and Aunt Lynn...step it up next year).
Now, back to essays.

Two-Thousand Two-Hundred Ski-Do

2008-11-26T20:38:00.003-05:00

2200 give or take is how many page views we've gotten. That means that someone besides Chris' mom, my mom, sister, aunt and uncle read this site. This far exceeds our previous expectations.

In other news, I still sit enthroned in the temple of Procrastination. One essay-exam down (almost), three to go before Friday and then Portugal, Spain, and Morocco to celebrate my 21st. Hopefully no Moroccan prison will be involved. Although, if one were, that could make a good story. 4400, anyone?

Where I want to be again, right now:

What I'm feeling this very instant:

2008-11-20T18:13:00.005-05:00

Cool. Green tea that I let get too cool getting more cool in front of me but smelling pretty damn good, an acoustic playlist that I made for myself (but not really a playlist, just a bunch of acoustic-ish albums on shuffle), Great Expectations and its essay minion going ignored because I can't stop reading Xkcd from the beginning, a subconscious feeling of thanksgiving that I'm giving my liver the night off, a fishing rod behind me begging to be cast (and cast, and cast, and tangled, and cast..), and the assurance of a snug night's sleep and a late morning tomorrow.
Sometimes deciding not to go adventuring is absolutely exhilarating.

Something that happened in Northern Ireland

2008-11-19T15:10:00.006-05:00

I promised I'd get this up yesterday. Sorry.
Northern Ireland was interesting and a blast because it is rich in history and natural beauty, but also because the majority of our meals were paid for and delicious. Thanks, Butler (thank ourselves?). I really don't feel like typing out a day-by-day summary of our trip, though. It would be long and tedious and, plainly, boring without pictures, which are a hassle to load onto the page. Here are all of mine: http://picasaweb.google.com/jdanielmay/NorthernIreland02. If you want a specific story about anything, I'd be happy to give it to you, but I'd rather do it over skype or over the phone, if only so I can do all of my impressions and tones while I talk.
I thought I'd tell a short story about an experience that occurred during the trip that struck a cord in me personally, one that doesn't really need pictures to be worthwhile. On Saturday in Belfast a lot of the kids decided to take a Black Cab Tour, promoted as "historically and socially interesting" as well as a "great opportunity to see more of Belfast". I was sold at historically, and, assuming they'd take us somewhere old and talk us up about who built it, bought it, or was buried in it, I signed up to tag along.
They drove in a caravan of about ten cars. I went in the same car as our friends Corrine, Molly, and Sarah, and our driver would lean his head to the side and shout back information about Belfast and the Troubles, which roads were controlled by who and why this wall was where. Leaving Belfast's city center, and I don't mean to sound insensitive, but the city took on a much more embattled appearance. There were walls, immense walls made of steel and wire and wood, on certain streets, separating the people. The Protestants and the Catholics. The Loyalists and the Republicans. The Irish and the British. They are separate in so many ways. Here were the Protestant murals, depicting scenes of their heritage and their struggles, surrounded by the very buildings where men and women had fought and died, or not fought and been killed. Here were the Catholic murals, depicting their heritage and their struggles, surrounded by the buildings where it had all started amide fire-bombs and gunshots. Driving to the next location, our driver told us how Taxi drivers had been particularly targeted, if only because they were easy targets for the Protestant assassins or easy tools for Catholic car-bombers. The Protestants, he told us, would pretend to be Catholics in desperate need of assistance and, when the driver would show up, they would calmly tell him to take them to a predetermined location, and shoot him in the back of the head.
One of the girls asked him why people would continue driving taxis when conditions were like that. He didn't shout the answer, because his voice got low and soft, and he didn't turn his head to address us. I had to lean forward to hear him.
"I've been driving taxis for twenty years," he said. "You just have to keep doing it, because it is your job, and people need you. You have a family. You stop going to certain parts of town, and you start hating people, but you don't stop driving. I lost my best friend, like that. My brother-in-law was killed." He paused here. "I try not to talk about it. If I told every group my story, they would want to take one side over the other, and that is pointless. We have Protestants and Catholic drivers, and everyone has their own stories, and they're all like this. We're done recruiting."
Later, I asked him if the people living in the buildings around the murals minded all the tourists, all the giggling American college kids with our cameras.
"No. Oh, no, mate," he said, serious. "This is their history, and you're learning."
That struck me. I knew very little about the Troubles. I knew that the Irish and the British did not like each other, and that there had been bloody, violent conflict. That's it, though, really. They don't mind us being there, the novelty of it, because whether its one of us or all of us, someone learns from their troubles. Someone will remember them, both sides.

Belfast pictures are up!

2008-11-17T08:43:00.002-05:00

I just uploaded the best of the best onto my Flickr account for you all. Don't know if you can tell or not, but Belfast/Derry/Giant's Causway was a blast!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/24556641@N03/

Now to remove Dan's face from covering the entire blog....

A Quitter

2008-11-16T15:43:00.004-05:00

My beard was heinous. It is really as simple as that. Tuesday I'm going to Limerick to work catering at a Rugby convention, though, and I have to look a little classy, so that is my official reason for bowing out of the No-Shave-November festivities. So, until next November, or until my razor dulls and I'm too cheap to buy a new one, my beard will slink away back to the depths of my imagination.

Edit: Keep your eyes peeled over the next two days, as I DO intend to write a post about our trip to Northern Ireland. I'm delaying because I think my loved ones will need a few days to digest that picture of my "beard". Sorry.

No Shave November

2008-11-07T11:42:00.006-05:00

It is that time of year again, and Chris and I have decided yet again to answer the call. We are not going to shave for the entire month. Now, neither of us can actually grow all of our facial hair yet, so this is more of a test of how awkward we are willing to let our faces get before one of us gives. My last attempt at a beard was the very end of this past summer, and it was pitiful. Anyways, her are some "before" pics that I just took. In a month (or whenever I give up) I'll take some more so we can compare and laugh. The last one is me twiddling my future handlebar 'stache.

Video from Donegal

2008-10-31T10:59:00.004-04:00

One of the guys who went on the weekend trip with us, John, made a neat little video about our experience.

Donegal / Mt. Errigal

2008-10-29T07:25:00.005-04:00

Last weekend was a long one, thanks to Bank holiday - whatever that is haha. So I joined Dan for his mountaineering fix and went on a weekend trip with the mounataineering club, NUIGMC. I cannot wait for next weekend to head out with the group! Besides hiking and seeing the awesome view, the people are what made this trip. Dan and I were 2 of about 9 Americans out of a 40ish group of people, of which ranged from the ages of 20-60.

The first day was a little bit of a downer for the vets as it was pretty crumby outside, rainy and windy but I was satisfied for it being a inaugral hiking/walking trip (Moreso walking). It was a good chance to wear in the new boots and coat, both of which were cash money this weekend. Anyway, we went to see a summer mansion/castle which was built on a lake in the middle of Donegal, pretty isolated from everything else. Was a pretty cool place, but it seemed awkward to have a summer home in Ireland, always raining. There was a pretty cool garden around it and it had amazing scenery around it.

That night we went to the pub which was ran by a fella and his 13 yr old son, no joke. Good times were had, love that irish milk!

The next day was the highligh of the trip as we hiked/climbed Mt. Errigal, the tallest mountain in Donegal. From the hostel, which was insanely nice, we hiked around the base of the mountain to a spot were it made sense to ascend. The hostel sat on the opposite side of the mountain where there were sharp drops and bunch of loose stone (scree?). The climb was amazing. I'll let the pics do the describing.

That night we had our halloween party, which was a blast. At one point I was talking to my professor, Pat, and took of swig of the wine I had. Mid-swig it occured to me, Wow! I 'm drinking with my professor haha. The lifestlye here is just so different, I absolutely love it. He was talking later to another guy and said that he had lost the respect of his 4 students on the trip but the guy quickly comforted him by telling him he didn't have our respect in the first place haha. Later Pat played some traditional Irish music that blew my mind - really, really good.

I've inserted some pics in this post but there are more on Flickr too

http://www.flickr.com/photos/24556641@N03/

The Maumturks

2008-10-22T12:11:00.003-04:00

I went on another hike with the club last Sunday, and it was another great experience. I'm supposed to be working on an essay about the Council of Trent at the moment, though, so some pictures will have to do. It was extremely rainy and windy and subsequently freezing, but the view was terrific when the clouds momentarily cleared.

More pics on Flickr!

2008-10-15T17:59:00.002-04:00

Just uploaded some of pics of the London trip onto Flickr. I actually forgot I had a Flickr account and it's a pretty good way to get more of the pics Dan and I take online for others to see. I'll have Dan set up a permanent link on the site but for now here's the link to my photostream. Hope you enjoy!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/24556641@N03/

The Twelve Pins

2008-10-14T07:29:00.009-04:00

I've been in contact with the Mountaineer Club since February of last year, and have been very excited since to join them for a Sunday hike. I never would have guessed, though, how much I would adore the club, and how much my heart would warm at finally attending. Over the course of last week, I found some leather hiking boots and Bear-Grylls-esque waterproof trousers, both required for admittance to the bus (I thought these requirements were an exaggeration...little did I know), and generally psyching myself up for a gentle walk through the Irish countryside, perhaps a hill here or there. After getting home from London late and on little, cruel sleep, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to rise early Sunday morning for the bus, leaving the school at 9:30am. I did, though, and I cannot be thankful enough to myself.

The day was beautiful, and I donned my adventure gear costume and road to school. Climbing the steps to the bus, I couldn't help but notice the diverse group of people sitting and conversing around me; old and young, irish and continental, boy and girl, all of them smiling and talking in quiet voices. I thought it was wonderful, eves-dropping on their conversations about prior walks or laugh-driven references to some shared joke. I shared a smile with myself before shooting it across the bus at a Spanish girl I knew from class and slipping into an ipod shell.

The drive to Derryclare revealed a part of Ireland that I had not yet seen, but which delighted me. Rural, almost uninhabited, and wild. These were parts where only sheep (which, I would learn, are true pioneers) lived, sharing the ground with sparse plants and moss, mostly. From my window I could see lakes everywhere, undisturbed and serene, and after a while mountains started to sprout from the ground, not towering like the Rockies but old and noble like the Appalachians, old but bare; ancient would be a better word, I think. These struck me as relics of a mysterious, haunted Ireland.

We got out of the bus, split into groups, and began our walk through a forest of spruce and pine. It smelled amazing. Many of the trees, if not all, were planted by the forestry industry, but the rows and rows of evergreen trees were lovely nontheless, and the breeze, sweeping cold and clear down the nearby peaks into the valley, carried with it the smell of freshly cut pine. We hiked for a while like this along a clear, gravel path, and I assumed that that would be the theme of the walk: easy enough, clear enough, scenic enough...comfortable.

We approached a mountainside, though, and the leader stopped us. "Alright guys, over the fence. It's going to be pretty uneven here for a while, and we'll need to cross a stream, so get ready." What? I hopped the fence, and immediately sank a couple inches into the mossy ground. I am so, so glad I got boots. Waterproof boots. Up we went, up until the mossy ground turned into rocks, and uneven, but fairly level ground turned into harshly inclined rock face. To be honest, as we ascended further and further, I wondered when we would turn around, when the going would get too tough on the group, when someone would get too tired, when the visibility would get too bad (and it would get pretty rough, as all of the peaks (and we climbed to six of them, in this little mountain chain) were in the clouds). There were times when we would have to climb like a climbing wall, grabbing for little ledges and swinging ourselves upwards, and I'd wonder someone will need to stop, we are going to have to turn around.

We never did, though. We kept going, and each time we would take a break, we would talk and laugh and smile at each other between deep breaths, throwing on more layers as we started freezing before throwing them off again as the going got rougher. And at each stop, I'd turn around and my breath would halt in my throat at the view. It was beautiful. We kept going, and my confidence grew and grew, until I was bouncing off rocks like a mountain goat, loving every second of it. We finally started descending, and dropped below the clouds, and my feet started sinking into moss again, and I learned that walking downhill at sharp inclines, gravity riding on my shoulders, meant that I would fall a lot, and get mud all over myself, but at that point I could care less. I had climbed mountains, in Ireland, with the coolest group of people I have met in a long while. I have found a new love here, and cannot wait until next Sunday to don my adventure gear, hop on the bus, and climb some more.

Diggnacíon

2008-10-13T13:41:00.015-04:00

London was a blast! Dan and I woke up at 4:30 Friday morning, got to the bus station in Galway by 6, and arrived in Dublin around 9:30. And by 12:30 we were at Stansted Airport in London! For those of you have to travel through/to London anytime, use Stansted. Stansted would be the midway of London whereas Heathrow would be like O'hare - o so I've heard. From this point on in the trip, nothing was scripted except we knew when had to be at the ExCel center by 7:30 for the live Diggnation (see below).

Diggnation is a weekly podcast that is done by the founders of the site Digg.com. The two guys were previously part of TechTV, so they are easily recognized around the tech community, plus they put on a hell of a show - drinking beer and talking about anything and everything. Fun stuff, really

Anywho we took a train to the Tottenham-Hale spot and figured we could save money by just walkin the rest of the trip - we THOUGHT we knew where this place was. From Tottenham we walked south for about 3-4 hrs to the city center.

I have to say that of all the cities I have been in, I could see myself living in London. It had such a nice feel to it. It had the history and sites of a big city but also had the hominess and culture that would make comfortable living. The areas we passed through had included some African and Acidic Jewish communities - pretty neat.

When we finally got downtown it was pretty neat as everyone was gettin off of work for the week. We kept passing a lot of classy pubs where all the businessmen/women hung out, and there were a TON of them, old and young. I couldn't help thinkin that for some, this was the most important time of the week - networking. Seemed like such classy way to go about it.

As we hunted down ExCel we ran into some pretty cool sites. Small coves that came into the cities with amazing boats, cute walkways, the Tower Bridge, and the Tower of London. For weekend, we were very fortunate to have such good weather. Couldn't have asked for anything better.

We never did find the place on our own and ended up just asking someone where it was (I know, pissed). Turns out ExCel was part of a new development that didn't even appear on a map of London because it was so far East. So being 7 already, we took a taxi for about 20 pounds.

As expected, the show was a blast!!! I'm amazed at how the crew that runs the show are so chill. Super famous in the tech crowd, doing pretty well, but they were cool, real people who didn't take themselves too seriously. No wonder the show does so well, huh? Before the show, Google was giving out free beers, Dan and I grabbing a couple handfuls each. So class. After the hour long show, everyone went to a nearby bar where more free beer was at for some thanks to facebook (not us, though) and we could meet other nerds and the cast too.

That night/next morning we headed back up to Stansted, crashing for a while. We couldn't have asked for better weather for that weekend - it was absolutely beautiful out. It was a helluva time! Trips like these are what I came to Europe for. Can't wait for some of you to come out and experience it!

Incoming! London

2008-10-09T18:41:00.002-04:00

Hey all. We're heading outa here to catch a 6am bus to dublin airport for our flight over to London. Friday night there is a Diggnation get together followed by an afterparty/open bar so it should be a pretty sweet time. Just got my new camera charger, with extra battery, so there will definately be some pics coming soon.

On a side note, just got back from playing our first basketball since coming over and it feels good to have gotten back on the court to say the least. It's such a pain though, as you have to pay for EVERYTHING over here. 2 Euro to sign up with the bball club, 2 euro for each session, 2 euro for water fountain priveleges...ok, not true for the last one, but i wouldn't be suprised if they started charging for it. I definately took all the open hoops in Indiana for granted - along with not having to pay something for everything.

Big post coming up soon!

Following Bar

2008-10-07T08:48:00.002-04:00

I added a follower's bar because I think it looks cool, and because I'd like to know who's reading/read this thing.

PS: It might require that you be a Google/Gmail registered user, so not all of you will be able to use it. But, Google's products are free and highly useful...

Charm

2008-10-05T13:16:00.004-04:00

I'd like to say sorry for not posting for a while--to be honest, we just haven't done much that's been postworthy lately. Besides the habitual pub crawling or club crawling, Chris and I have been pretty boring. We have some great stuff planned for this month (a trip to London, me buying some hiking boots and joining the mountaineer club, somehow getting a fishing rod, etc), so maybe the posts will increase. Anyways, today I was charmed by Ireland.

We had left the house and headed into town around 3 o'clock looking for some used clothes shoppes (all of which were closed), and generally explored some less known streets until we finally winded things up at a burrito place. At one point in the midst of this, though, we happened to come across a corner of Eyre Square, a large park located in the middle of town, surrounded by clubs, pubs, and hotels, and generally the center of the city's social circle. Well, as we approach, we hear some kind of childish, soft music, like a Disney movie, coming from a large crowd of people. The closer we got, the scene's detail improved...the music was coming from speakers mounted on top of a small car...there was a lot of dogs barking...several balding men were dressed in plain brown cloth robes...the majority of the people gathered were older women, with leashed dogs. I was pretty confused but really intrigued at this point, and around the time we got to within twenty-five yards, one of the cloth'd men stopped the music and started praying. "Our father..." he began, and I turned to Chris and said that I assumed it was some sort of out-door service. As the old monk went on we turned around to leave, but something he said caught my attention. "...You have blessed us with these pets, Lord, and we ask that You grant us the wisdom to properly care for them...". They were having a public prayer for their pets. This was a fellowship of pet owners, gathered in the city-centre to discuss pets. The monk went on, his prayer interrupted here and there by a belligerent dog (leashed by one of the monks), and though Chris turned to walked away, I just couldn't. How cute can you get? He finished his speech, and I caught up to Chris, but before we left earshot they started the music again..."Here I Am, Lord". My heart melted. I love that song. Only in Ireland, I think. That, at least, was worthy of a long awaited blog post.

Edit: Because I'm in a posting mood, here are some new pictures of me and my current favorite hike spot.

Castlebar - Mayo

2008-09-21T12:44:00.002-04:00

Off For the Weekend

2008-09-19T12:31:00.002-04:00

We found out an hour ago that we would be picked up in an hour (now!) for our "Family Visit" up in county Mayo. We will take pictures and report back on Sunday. This should be interesting.

I found some really cool used/new bookstores in town, and have been spending all my time between classes biking/hiking up and down the canal to browse. It looks like I'll be able to get most of my school books in there, so that's a bit of luck.

Down By the Bay

2008-09-14T21:58:00.002-04:00

First off, happy shout-out to zach and his 21st! We did our best to make it a good one for ya. Today was a laid back day. Got some movies in, got the bikes up and running, and leftovers for meals. Dan and I thought we'd make something of the day and took off on the inaugral trip with the bikes!

We rode through downtown, going by the cathedral, past our usual startoff pub-Bierhaus, and down to the water. Here the lighted paths ended and we started our night ride to some special rock monument out on a mini-peninsula (possibly the Columbus rock, where he stopped before cross the atlantic). We stopped here and just chilled for about an hour. I thought it to be a good spot to have my first cuban! O boy, wat a cigar haha. I know I haven't had a cigar in a bit but this one was one to be remember between being down by the bay and enjoying the thrill of a cuban. At the point we were at Galway was on our left, Salthill on the right so we were in somewhat of an isolated spot to help us enjoy the night. For little while we crawled down the seabed from the point we left our bikes - about 15-20ft. We were surrounded by tons of little clams/oysters and between them all it sounded like we were in a bowl of rice krispies! From this point we went back up to the bikes and enjoyed the view as a full moon almost found clear sky. It amazes me still how when looking at a map of Ireland the bay seems so big but sitting there, it didn't look as big as I orignally thought. But seriously, good times for sure. I love Galway, Ireland!

Incoming: Lots of Updates, Keep Scrolling Down!

2008-09-14T20:41:00.003-04:00

Chris and I had a busy weekend full of interesting local shenanigans. We took it pretty easy on the bar/club scene and decided, somewhat on a whim, to attend Friday's Galway United soccer match. The home stadium, Terryland, is literally a mile from our apartment, so after getting comfortably buzzed and recruiting a friend to join us, we set off. Galway is in last place in their league, but they played like champs for us, prompting us to shell out some serious cash for replica jerseys and scarves! I have to say that after spending almost three years watching soccer on rare satellite showings and grainy youtube highlight reels, seeing a game played live, among the home fans, was brilliant. We shouted (I shouted, Chris had drank considerably less and kept laughing at me, ass), cheered, and jeered with the rest of the crowd, and decided pretty easily that at some point we'd been won over and became fans!

The next morning (well, morning for Chris, I needed more sleep so went later in the afternoon) was the Galway Market. Set in the middle of town, between streets and beside a beautiful church, the Galway Market market is where local vendors and organic farmers sell their stuff. Every week. For relatively cheap. You can imagine how excited this all makes me. After checking it out for a while and chatting a little with some of the vendors, I came back home for a fairly relaxed evening and rest of weekend. Chris will fill you in on what we did tonight...

Edit: We also got bikes. For free. So excited to not walk. That sounds sad. So excited to not have to walk.

Music To Break A Man's Heart

2008-09-11T18:16:00.003-04:00

"On Raglan Road of an autumn day

I saw her first and knew

That her dark hair would weave a snare

That I might one day rue

I saw the danger and I passed

Along the enchanted way

And said let grief be like a fallen leaf

At the dawning of the day"

That is just the first verse of the prettiest song I have heard in a long while. If you have the will, download the Dubliner's version. The soft mandolin/banjo in the background makes the song wonderful and enchanting. Call me girly, call me a "sensy", but I'm man enough to admit when music breaks my heart.

Cool But Admittedly Sad Travel Tip

2008-09-11T09:36:00.002-04:00

When at the pub, and especially if somewhat buzzed, one often drops coins from their pocket or their hand. I am one of these people, as my hands get more and more buttery the more that I drink. What is interesting, though, is that the difference between myself and other droppers is that I lack the pride which might keep me from dropping down and searching for my displaced coin. I have found, on my numerous trips to the floor, that most people don't even realize they have dropped anything/don't care enough to pick it up. Bottom line: there is a lot of money to be found on pub floors, especially near the bar. Jesus, that's sad.

What a Walk Home Alone Can Do

2008-09-09T20:39:00.002-04:00

Walked home from the pubs alone tonight (Chris left early on because he has some early classes tomorrow), and after finally making it (it was not a straight line in any sense), I felt a good deal more confident about being alone, at 1:30am, in Galway. Since I left Roisin Dubh with basically no idea where in the city I was, I decided to follow the river-stream north until I got to the Coiribe river proper, at which point it would be easy. Well, I found the river, decided which was it was flowing, and set off...out of town and into the neighborhoods. Long story short, I was in some pretty shady areas before I found "the church" and knew where I was. I have to say, I got a certain swagger in my step at this point...I had traversed a European city alone through unknown territory, and made it through. It feels pretty good, and my ridiculously comfortable bed beside me looks all the more wonderful for having made it so smoothly. What a cool place!

Pub reviews tonight will be short, because I am suuuper sleepy. Chris forgot to do yesterdays!

Foxes - Again, great music and super cheap beer. Still a bit thin crowd-wise, but it remains the best starter pub we've had yet. A

Bierhaus - Also revisited (the Belgians love it), it remains a great, chill pub. Tried some new beers (Galway Hooker and a dutch/Belgian brew), and was again charmed. Stole some posters for our room, as well :) B+

Roisin Dubh - New one, pretty crowded (especially the outdoor smoking section aka the Roof), good selection of beers, tho. Tried "Bavarian", which tasted exactly like any other ale to me, but was fairly cheap. They had some cool thing where they play a movie on a projector screen while playing music, often house or techno, to match the scene. I liked it, overall, but my memory is marred by the fact that three of my friends are leaving the country for home (their holiday is over). See you guys in Belgium, maybe? Anyways, the pub. B-

Cheers!

A Wondrous Dash of America for My Rice

2008-09-08T13:07:00.006-04:00

I love Ireland, but I feel like there are some nights, where I sit chomping monotonously on my boiled, albeit salted, but otherwise flavorless rice, that something is missing. I found that something today.

Tabasco sauce. So pumped for tonight. Also, cheap choc chip cookies.

Pub Review: Bierhaus and Massimo's

2008-09-06T22:01:00.002-04:00

Gonna be a short one, because I am tired and have a big day tomorrow. Met up with Jasper and some friends at Bierhaus and it was very pleasant. Not too crowded, not too loud, but also quite small, it was a pretty cool, German-feeling (Austrian, for Theresa!) experience. We moved on to Massimo's when our group got bigger, and although it was absolutely packed (luck got us our seats), the cheap beer kept us around until the end of the night. We MIGHT have stolen the table of a birthday party, who knows. Until next time, Cheer!

Bierhous: B

Massimo's: B+

Cliffhanger

2008-09-06T15:47:00.006-04:00

Got up (very fuzzy) at around 10 and head to the school for a "Historical Tour" of Galway. It was an immense crowd, so since I was feeling tourist-y enough (brought my camera), we and a small group of fellow dissidents decided to make our own route. We headed towards the waterfront, promenading along the promenade and generally enjoying the sea breeze. Well, once we go a certain distance, I see way, way, way off into the horizon some cliffs, like the kind you see in Ireland brochures. I tell myself, and the guys I was with, that I had to conquer them. Chris was the only one willing to join me, so we began our trek. We must have walked about 6 miles before the path stopped, forcing us to hop onto the beach and navigate the tidal pools/seaweed for another half mile or so. When we got there, though, it was entirely and overwhelmingly worth it. A small island hill rising more than 100 feet out of the sea then ending abruptly in a sheer cliff, reachable only during low tide, covered in tall, soft grass and wild flowers, this was a landform of absolute beauty. We passed a couple backpackers on the way, and traveled across the island and up the hill along foot-trodden paths, but besides that it was extremely remote. How wonderful. After exploring and enjoying the breeze and the view for a while, we started the long trip home. Tomorrow, we may be mountaineering!

Pub Review: 1!

2008-09-05T21:24:00.002-04:00

Chris and I just returned from our first pub outing into Galway, and it was brilliant. We met Jasper at some cathedreal near the university and proceeded to scour the downtown for some promising looking places. After having cold feet at like 5 different spots, we chose the famous "King's Head" pub, and were swiftly dissapointed. Crowded, loud, and cheesy music-filled, we stayed only for the 4 euro Guinness (cheap compared to Limerick's 4.80 shit). After two pints (and a solid buzz on my half), we chose to depart. Walking a ways, my bladder became the deciding factor and we chose a fairly calm pub, aptly named "The Bar", for our resting place. Three of perhaps 30 patrons, we experienced a quiet scene, and enjoyed several pints before the band took stage. WHAT A BAND. Their specialty was classic rock, and between CCR and Jimmy Buffet and The Doors, they rocked the house. We proceeded to get solidly drunk before peacing out and walking Jasper halfway home. His Belgian pride wouldn't let us go all the way, so we departed at St. Christopher's Catherdral (maybe, it was a big church anyway) before staggering home. Good times. Spelling errors should be excused, because I'm still drunk, and cant catch them all! Cheers!

King's Head: C+

The Bar: B

Pics #1

2008-09-05T13:50:00.011-04:00

Here's a quick post of pictures I've snapped so far just to give you all a taste of what we're up against!

We went to a Bunratty's Castle for a night of traditional food and entertainment. An Irish guy in our group explained to us that these dancers weren't good at all, but what would a tourist know, right?

View of Limerick, near the river.

Quick shot of Dolan's, everyones watchin the musicians.

Here's some of the countryside north of the apartment.

Cathedral in Galway

And finally, inside the quadrangle on campus.

First Taste

2008-09-05T13:24:00.003-04:00

Well we've almost made it through the first week in Ireland! Still no regrets haha. We've settled into the new apartment and are getting our crap together as far as phones, banking, registrations, etc and finally the time has come to post something!

So far, Ireland has been a blast - surpassing expectations that I had before. The first three nights in Limerick Dan and I managed to hit several pubs. Experiences ranged from just the two of us sitting in on traditional music to a bunch of americans in a bar to a combination of the first two. Hands down the first experience was the best. Roaming around last Sunday, we found a small pub around 7:30 in which only a family sat with a couple guys at the bar. Ya it was awkard at first but as we got the first couple of Guiness pints down we realized what a gem we had found. For the whole night the family would take turns singing one by one, and occasionally as a group, irish songs from who knows when. They even managed to squeeze some Johnny Cash towards the end before a band came in and crowds grew. Between amazing voices, passion, and drink it was one night I will never forget. Awesome, awesome, awesome. The biggest paranoia I have is beign accepted by the people i meet here, since its obvious I'm an american - although I do my best to appear otherwise. This first night did a lot to ease that feeling, you just have to be respectful to the people here - show them that americans can really be easy to get along with!

A Wet and Mellow Irish Day

2008-09-05T12:30:00.003-04:00

Today Iron and Wine was on the musical menu. Walking through the wind and the rain back to our apartment, across a river and along a lane, his cool voice and soft guitar tunes matched perfectly with my warm, warm jacket. I suppose this is the kind of weather we'll need to get used too, and it really isn't so bad at the outset.

Chris and I are all settled in and learning quick how to eat on a budget, organize finances, etc...it feels pretty good, actually. Today I attended some introductory lectures about the english and history courses, then explored the school some more to get my bearings. The school itself is like a mix of modern and medieval, aesthetically. It has brand new looking buildings, but also some that look to be a part of some ancient estate. I like it. It also has a pub with very, very cheap beer. Speaking of beer, we're planning on hitting up the pubs tonight, so watch for our first pub review! I still haven't gotten much of a chance to explore the countryside, besides that very first day, and judging by the weather outside, this will not be my chance, either. I think Chris will try posting some pictures, later, so stick around!

An Update, A Short Update, For There Is Much to Do

2008-09-03T19:21:00.002-04:00

We're here, and very happy, and Ireland is, in a word, wonderful. I really don't have much energy to type out too much more now, because the sights and song and beer here leave me pretty drained! Needless to say, we plan to keep you posted on pubs visited and treks into the countryside made. Stay tuned!

A Goodbye

2008-08-28T10:19:00.002-04:00

Over the last two weeks I have made a tour of all the things I love most about home. My family in the south, my family in the north; the people who make leaving so bittersweet. I love you all. You all make my life so much more wonderful, and as I go off on my greatest adventure yet, I realize at the last how much I will leave behind. And I know we'll talk, and I know we'll think of each other a lot, but I'll miss having you nearby, having a face to look at or a body to be next to. There is a Cloud Cult song that took me off-guard yesterday, driving back from Bloomington, trying to listen to the happiest music I had to stem the tide of emotion. It came on, and I sang along, and before I could finish the first verse I had lost all resistance. It's a simple song, one sentence repeated:

"I love my mother

I love my father

And when it's my time to go, I need you to know

I love you all."

I'll see you in nine months, maybe sooner. Keep an open ear on the phone, and a lucky thought over the Atlantic. Goodbye.

Jet-skis and Blue, Blue Moons

2008-08-18T21:40:00.002-04:00

This really is a perfect place. It keeps hitting me, laying out at the waterfront, getting schwasted-faced around the campfire with some of my favorite people on the planet, beating Chris (again) with the Mighty Blues in Fifa, reminiscing over the last few months of camp, home, and the people I've shared them with, or cruising along at a solid 55 under the bluest skies I can remember: this has been a great summer. I really can't thank my aunt and uncle enough for letting us crash here for however long we end up crashing here. But, since I know they'll read this: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR BEING SO WONDERFUL TO ME!

IFSA Butler, the organization Chris and I are going to Ireland through, sends out "Pre-Departure" emails once or twice a month, giving us tips or instructions on getting over there and dealing with the culture or whatnot. Well, today, we got about 7 of these emails in the course of ten minutes, warning us about Anti-Americanism and security and electronic issues and whatnot and generally painting a fairly dark picture about studying abroad. Anti-Americanism doesn't bother me at all; I've been abroad, to England specifically, made friends and hung out with old friends (Andy, that's you), and know that most people aren't "anti" in the militant sense, and if so are certainly not out to make you feel bad or to show any animosity. Most are simply curious about the American worldview on an individual basis, and are more about dialogue and discussion than hardcore debate or argument. I'll be honest though, when it comes to the detailed list of documents and registrations and things of that sort, my stomach tenses all up. I am not a detailed list of documents kind of guy...I like to deal with things as they come and not do a whole lot of preparation. This will not cut it in international travel, and I hate the fact that I'm going to have to not be my laid-back self or face the consequence of awkward foreign bureaucracy. Bummer. Time to (actually) read these "pre-departure" things.

Well Worth The Wait

2008-08-17T16:24:00.008-04:00

We finally made it out of B-town around 10:30 last night and pulled into Dan's Uncle Alan and Aunt Lynn's house around 7:30. Zach was quite the trooper cheering Dan and I on while we drove, supplying the dj skills. (We'll have to show him how manual transmissions work if we're to have anymore roadtrips.) After a quick breakfast and a 15 min. power nap, that i coulda swore was several hours, we all headed down to the water. I am pretty stoked about the 2 jet ski's we will be able to use this week, and on top of everything else down here, it's lookin to be a well needed week of R&R.

I had driven a jet ski before for several summers and was expecting about the same thing but these things are nuts - 55 mph top speed and get there pretty dam fast. I still have yet to remaster the skills of old but I'll get it, or I'm not a Durkin. Dan needs some encouragement to get on the back of mine while I try to throw him off, and vic versa, but hopefully zach will be game now that he is up and recovered from the previous night.

Roadtrip Thus Far

2008-08-16T15:21:00.005-04:00

So, I just googled "hotwire car". We are hot-wiring my car. Bloomington is gorgeous and I can't wait to go to school here, though. I'm sure Chris, who was very pleased with the circumstances, will fill you in on the rest. I at least saw the happenings as an adventure and good story, so he'd better make it a good one. Here's some pics of the kid doing his thing.

Alteration, Nation

2008-08-14T21:52:00.002-04:00

Chris and I have decided to use this site to record our travel adventures and to keep friends and family posted on our goings-on. He'll start posting for himself, so make sure and watch who the author is on various posts!

We leave for Ireland August 30th, but are making a road trip to my homeland, South Carolina, this coming Friday!

Gluey Feathers on the Flume

2008-08-10T20:00:00.002-04:00

Some summer days are perfect for autumn music.

Euchre Is An Annoying Paradox

2008-07-30T13:47:00.004-04:00

Seriously. Why would anyone ever play it? It doesn't even sound fun. Fun card games have fun names. War. Bullshit. Hearts. Poker. Rummy. Euchre? It's not even spelled to be user friendly. I tried to learn it once -- correction: it was forced upon me for a while once. Junior year of high school, first semester, I sat at a table with some buddies who would play it every day.

They'd ask me to play and I'd be all, "Sure, hmmmm, I don't know how."

"Oh don't worry," they said the first couple of times, "you'll pick it up."

I did not. I'd play a card and immediately be corrected. "That doesn't work, Daniel. Wrong suit," or some crap like that. It got to the point where I didn't even look at the card when I put it down. I'd watch my partner's eyes, nervously and slowly lowering my card until some reaction would tell me what to do next. It was like playing Operation, waiting for the horrible buzz to sound. I'd watch for the disgust when I did it wrong, quickly smiling and claiming "psyche!" to save grace before awkwardly selecting my next move and repeating the process. Did they believe that I was joking? No.

It's not like they didn't try to teach me. They did. These were good, patient guys. Honestly, I would have given up before they did. There's only so many school lunches you can waste before it's just not worth it any more. Eventually we all started pretending that I knew what I was doing, if only to save face. I don't remember a damned thing about Euchre. There is a void, a fuzzy void, where the mismatched and weblike knowledge of Euchre used to exist in my brain. I don't want to learn it. Right now, I can exist under the assumption that Euchre is just a giant, worldwide prank against me, and that it would actually be impossible for me to learn it. At least that way, I don't have to admit that I just don't get it. Screw you, Euchre.

A Change, A Nice Change

2008-07-25T14:12:00.002-04:00

So, when I last talked about books I was reading I had Hemingway on the mind. After writing that, I continued to blow through his stuff, reading and rereading a couple novels and short story compilations. One night, in camp, after an especially late night reading, I tossed down The Sun Also Rises, inhaled some good clean air, and decided to keep reading. Well, funny story, the only other book I happened to have on me was Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, a book I didn't even pretend to try to read in high school English. Hm, I thought. Hmmmmmmm. After like five minutes of silent but intense consideration I picked it up started. It was long, and a solid ten percent of the middle was basically an uncut pulpit raging, but I really did like it. I finished it with a great feeling in my heart and a new flavor of thought speaking in my head. I guess it might be odd to follow Ernest with James, like gravel with silt, but it worked for me. I might make another pass at the Ulysses summit before the summer's over.

Part Two: Where Was I?

2008-07-22T13:52:00.003-04:00

When I left off, Kelsey and I had just climbed out of the lake onto a friendly family's dock. They ran out to meet us, and Kelsey and I asked them how we should go about getting back to her cottage. With the storm still raging around us and the rain really starting to get serious, the kind lady of the house instructed us that, to get back, we needed to climb what seemed like a series of a hundred or so steps, circle around the top of the "Crow's Nest" and then climb down on the other side. Kelsey seemed to know what she meant and took off, me jogging doggedly behind her. We hit the steps and started climbing.

It's called the Crow's nest for two reasons. One: it is higher up than much of the surrounding lake shore, and atop the hill is a house. Two: Al Capone used to hide out on the lake at this exact spot, which is also why the lake itself has such a morbid moniker ("Gun").

The higher up we get, the more I feel the force of the wind at my back and the sting of the rain on my exposed skin. I thought to myself, with what little lightning knowledge that I have, that perhaps we had just left the most hazardous location and were now climbing into the second most hazardous location: atop a hill, tall trees cresting its heights. We reach the top, and I am pretty dang tired but I still don't fully realize it. We walk what must have been 20 yards or so towards a house, the path down resting on the other side. Kelsey gets a puzzled look on her face, and I follow her eyes towards a tall, gate-less fence blocking the path.

Choice words were said, and we started looking for an escape until I suggested we hop it. Kelsey wisely withheld the knowledge that the owner, a kook, was a gun-nut and notorious crusty old man. Using my leg as a stepping stool, she climbed the fence easily enough, and I followed. We climbed down from the Crow's Nest, with, for all I know, the crusty old guy shaking his fist behind us between missed shots, and reached her cottage. As we walked in to her extremely relieved parents, we could see the storm we had just escaped ravaging the lake behind her house. I think this is when the adrenaline stopped flowing. I was all of the sudden a little shocked and shaken. We sat in her house, drying off, recounting the story, and generally cooling down. A couple of times during the interval we would catch each other's eye and smile. A sense of peace and euphoria took over, and I was loving the moment. I kept repeating in my head what had happened, what we had done and how calmly we had done it. Between her mother's hugs she'd tell me how glad she was that I could swim, and I'd tell her how pumped I was to make this a journal entry. Most of all, I think, we were just happy to be inside, with towels around us and all the popsicles we could eat cooling our bellies.

"I'm so sorry, Daniel," she'd say, a laugh escaping before she could finish.

"Are you kidding?" I'd return. "This beats Euchre any day." I meant it, and that made the red and gold sunset slowly spreading across the calming lake all the more wonderful to look at.

My Brush With Danger, And Why I Loved It (Afterwards)

2008-07-17T13:45:00.002-04:00

There have been three moments in my life where I was afraid, spooked, or my nerves were shot; three moments when I felt that my control over the situation was limited and the outcome could have proven disastrous or even fatal. And yet, while the first was pretty much an example of man losing out to a scary part of nature, I think that the second two are also two of my proudest moments.

The first would be my encounter with a bobcat on some isolated Appalachian mountain trail. Although I later learned that the actual danger wasn't that great, the cat's piercing cry and the tense moments following burned their way into my memory. There's nothing I'm necessatily proud of in this memory -- I was scared shitless, straight up. Had my aunt not played it cool, I might have run down the mountain in girlish horror.

The second would be my first fight. I was in a club listening to a band with some friends, when I saw a buddy of mine cheap-shotted on the other side of the room. For some reason I didn't hesitate to wade across the room, dark and thickly packed with dancers and onlookers, and punch the guy who had wronged my friend in the face with all the momentum my 175 lb frame could carry. By the time the bouncers had separated the tussle, I learned that this guy I had punched actually had me severely out-gunned, not by strength or toughness necessarily, but most certainly in willingness to hurt and number of allies nearby. As more and more people warned me and encouraged me to getthefuckout, I realized that the situation could very well spiral into a place I wouldn't like. I stuck around for a while and was able to eventually make it out with all of my friends, but that was also a pretty tense moment...but it was also one in which I defended a friend without giving myself a chance to talk myself out of it. I saw him being wronged and immediately defended him. I know that my friends would do the same for me, but I guess in that moment, I proved to myself that chivalry wasn't just a fun ideal that I can toss around when I'm bored or feeling full of myself. It was there when I didn't have time to think of anything else.

The purpose of this post, though, is to write down last night's adventure before I forget how good it felt after it was all over.

I left camp last night at around 6 and drove to a friend of mine, Kelsey's, lake cottage. We sat talking with her family for a while, and it was nice because her family happens to be hilarious. After a short while Kelsey asked me if I'd like to go out onto the lake. Gun Lake is a pretty big place (larger that Birch Lake, Kelsey), shaped like a pair of lungs, and a former hideout of Al Capone. Last night was balmy and cloudy, but seemed harmless as we said our fair-wells, agreed to a later Euchre game, and walked down the drive to rent a canoe.

"Actually, I'm feeling more like a paddleboat ride," I said like an idiot as we reached the owner's cottage. I'll be honest, I had spent all day doing counselor duties and was feeling lazy, so I thought that a gentle paddleboat ride would be fitting.

We tried the front door. No answer. We walked around back and climbed the stairs to their back door. While Kelsey knocked on the door, I couldn't help but notice the owner's television through their back window. A severe thunderstorm warning over what looked like Lake Michigan menaced on the screen.

"Is that us?" I asked.

"I have no clue," laughed Kelsey. Can you taste the foreshadowing, reader?

The back door proved equally fruitless, so we decided to take the boat on trust, Kelsey promising to herself to pay the man later. As we launched from the shore, the lake looked calm and cloudy still, but other people were out and about on boats and skis, so we thought nothing of the weather.

It was a nice, relaxed, slow ride. We stayed fairly near to the shore, never more than fifty yards or beyond shouting distance from the nearby docks. As we rounded her family's corner we all waved at each other. We passed several other houses before we came across one whose inhabitants were lounging on their dock. They called to us, beckoning us to turn around and look out over the far side of the lake. We did, and were treated to sparse flashes of lightning. Gun Lake is big, though, as I said, and so Kelsey and I, both romantics (you are), ignored the danger and enjoyed the show. We continued for another fifteen minutes or so on our route before the rapidly encroaching dark clouds convinced us to turn around.

It's as though the storm was waiting for our will to break. As we turned, it charged from across the lake, moving far too quickly to our starboard. God bless her, but Kelsey was a champ.

"Look at the cloud formations!" she said, smiling. "That is cumulonimbus, that one stratus, and you can see where the storm head is right above us." It really wasn't scary at this point, even as the wind steadily began to pick up and the light all but died as the almost black clouds moved directly above us. Although we were not afraid, still laughing at each others corny jokes, we found our legs moving quicker at the paddles. Then the front hit us like a cannonade. The wind's fury surprised us and shocked us into concern.

"We need to get back, quickly," I said to an already agreeing Kelsey. The lightning flashed around us, on every side. A nearby flash momentarily took my attention, reminding me of a recent time that my father and I sat watching a storm pass over our house.

"I've been pretty lucky with lightning," my dad says. "There've been times when the hair stood up on the back of my neck." I asked him what that meant as the storm cracked and rumbled around us. "You've never heard this? They say that if you are ever in a storm, a bad one, and your skin starts tingling and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, you need to curl up on the ground in a ball and start hoping. It's about to get bad."

This is what I think about, as the storm gets more and more powerful above us. "You know, Kels, if your hair starts to stand up --" I stopped here. We were in a boat, a plexiglass boat, on a lake, thirty yards from shore. There was nowhere to curl up, no dry spot to huddle together in. We couldn't do a damn thing. "It's about to get bad."

I think this is when I got scared. It all got pretty hectic all of the sudden, but it got smoother too. I asked Kelsey to stop paddling and started really going at it myself, giving her the chance to concentrate on steering. I saw her family run out onto their dock, waving their arms and shouting at us in the distance. Other famillies had run out onto their docks, shouting encouragement or just hoping or praying for us. They all watched as we basically stopped moving for a brief moment, and then were torn the other direction as the wind hit us for real. We lost all control of the boat.

"Kels," I said, "we need to get out. Now."

Like I said, Kelsey is a champ. She jumped in immediately, leaving me standing in the boat, oddly taking the time to calmly remove my flip flops and start removing my shirt before I realized what an idiotic thing this actually was. I jumped and and surfaced to find Kelsey, the bravest girl I know, trying to pull the boat towards shore. Here we were, in deep water, waves going nuts around us, and the girl wanted to make sure that the boat was okay. I joined her for a second, before looking up to see her family, and all the other people watching, screaming at us to leave the boat. I didn't actually hear them, but could tell from their frantic hand motions that they thought we were doing it all wrong.

"Leave it!" I shouted, and we swam. When we got near to shore, I spied a nearby ladder and showed Kelsey where it was. By the time she had gotten out and it was my turn, I realized how tired I was. My legs were completely shot. Paddle-boating in a storm is serious business.

For now, reader, I have to go. My break is over and the campers are calling. TO BE CONTINUED!

Adventure, Booked!

2008-07-08T21:32:00.002-04:00

Chris and I just bought our tickets to Ireland! We leave August 30th and are set to return the following May. This whole set of shenanigans is seeming more and more real daily.