Free at last...

Wowie zowie. I turned in three of my of my five solitary assessments for classes yesterday, and let me tell you, it's a huge load-off. Five thousand words is far too much for one paper. I've got one more paper due next week, but then I'm done until the end of May, when I take my Old English exam.

I'm also feeling pretty good for a few other reasons. First, I think I'm going to go home a little bit earlier than planned. After Andrew and Ami's visits, I realized just how long I've been away, and how long I'd have to stay away in the months to come, and it made me incredibly homesick. Additionally, if I go home the day I'm scheduled to go home now, I'd be in Dublin alone for five days. And I don't do very well alone. Since my only exam is on May 27th, I'm aiming to be home in the first few days of June. Ann Arbor in June--nothing could be lovelier.

I've also been thinking about what Hamilton will be like next fall, and I can't say I'm not worried. I admittedly had a weeping fit while discussing housing with Andrew on Skype for two and a half hours, having finally realized that Hamilton next fall is going to be unlike the Hamilton I'd loved in years past. Most of this realization was that the current seniors are going to be gone, out of the Hamilton scene, forever. When Andrew and I were trying to think of a cohesive group of seniors for a suite, honestly, we couldn't think of six people who would create the same dynamic as the girls of Babbitt 32 or 34, the boys of Babbitt 21, the dwellers of Milbank 12 all those years ago... Honestly, I've been looking forward to finally pulling my weight and creating a social space my senior year, and it just doesn't look like it will work out. Maybe I'll have to inflict my party concepts on other suites.

Course selection has also been stressing me out to no end, all because of one golden, impossible course: A history seminar about the IRA (Irish Republican Army). The bulk of my program's Belfast trip concentrated on the strained relationship between the Catholics and the Protestants, synonymous with the Republicans and the loyalists. I was actually out and about in Belfast the night some IRA members shot up some members of the British army. I'm absolutely captivated, and I know I would love this class more than many I've  taken at Hamilton. HOWEVER, it is a seminar, which means it takes up all of Tuesday afternoon, conflicting with 75 percent of the upper-level English classes I wanted to take. Ironically, I can't learn about the IRA and Prison Writing during the same term, a set-up that had enormous potential. Even if I opt out of the IRA class, I'm still struggling to put together a four-class schedule. I can't take studio art or anthropology, two things I've been meaning to do my whole time at Hamilton, because I don't have any pre-requisites. I'm only really interested in two or three of the English offerings, and god knows I don't want to take Women's studies again. I have a few extra credits that would allow me to take three classes, but going into a semester without a full courseload? I'd feel like such a slacker-pants.

At any rate, I'm looking forward to the rest of my time at Trinity. Trinity Ball tickets go on sale tomorrow, and I'm super amped. The student administration group put together this really cute trailer for it, you should check it out. Very Irish humor.

April's going to be a really busy month for me. This weekend I'm home, but I'm going to London for Easter with Sally, and then back to Galway and maybe up to Sligo with Caitlin the weekend after that. The fourth weekend of April will be Belgium with Sally (resident Belgian beer expert), and then I'm hopefully going to Paris for May Day weekend. I'm trying to plan one week-long trip in May, either to Prague and Vienna or to Berlin and Poznan, the old capital of Poland.

I'll break spring break up in a few sections of the next few days, so no one gets overwhelmed by a single epic post.

I hope your Marches are going out like lambs.

Four Weeks, Four Sentences

So I went to Belfast, and then Andrew came. St. Patrick's Day came and went, then Andrew and I packed off for Edinburgh to visit Lucea Spinelli and Kevin Kerr. Ami Li arrived , Andrew left, and Ami and I went to Amsterdam. Ami and I got back from Amsterdam yesterday, and we got back from an Animal Collective show a half hour ago.


So there you have it. All of my papers are due this next week, so I can't guarentee I'll be giving you many more details before all that is out of the way. You WILL get a full account, those who want one, as soon as I'm able.

Love, Me.

Ireland: The Procrasti-Nation

I've been exhausted. All week. Do you want to know why?

THE PAVACHS ARE HERE! My mom, dad, and sister landed in Dublin on Saturday morning. They were groggier than I expected, but then, I guess I forgot how wretched the flight can be, especially if it isn't direct. They brought me a few of my dresses, my critter shorts, and a new pair of keds, so I'm completely ready for Irish spring.

So about that spring--it was a false alarm. Everyone's back in their wool coats, and we're expecting snow next week. It's been cold and rainy pretty much the whole time my parents have been here--the sun only just came out when they hopped on the train to see Caitlin in Galway. Mom and Dad have been able to roll with the punches pretty well, but Lydia seems pretty pissed about the bad weather. She refuses to go to any museums or parks--she sleeps in every day and waits to go shopping. I want to wake her up, tell her she's in Europe for the first time and she'd better appreciate it, but it's no use. She's the happiest when she's sending her boyfriend facebook messages in my apartment. Ho-hum.

I took the 'Rents to watch the Ireland v. England rugby match at the Bleeding Horse on Saturday night. They were pretty loopy off of jetlag, and I'm sure Dad's pain medication for his broken wrist didn't help matters. At any rate, they insisted upon buying every one of my friends a pint. That included myself and Lydia, my sister, who is 16 and isn't officially allowed to drink, even here (maybe in Germany?). It was really surreal, being in that type of social situation with my parents. They were mostly just nervous about my sister--my mom kept pulling me aside and telling me to watch out for her, and make sure that she eats something.

We didn't make it long at the game before the draggin' Pavachs got hungry, so we went down the road to Bobo's Burgers. I'd never been there before, and this was obviously a large oversight on my part. Bobo's made quirky, crazy burgers of all kinds (Lydia, a fake vegetarian, went for a falafel burger, and my mom had a lamb burger). I sent my parents home in a cab and took Lydia home with me.

Here's where the awkward bit about this weekend begins--all of us in the suite have our ONLY papers for most of our classes due this Friday. Technically, we could turn them in at the end of the month, but then we wouldn't be able to enjoy spring break (which, for me, consists of Andrew's and Ami's visits). So we've been on academic lockdown for the past week and a half, ever since getting home from Barcelona. Lydia was staying the night in hopes of going out to a pub or club, and there really wasn't anyone in the flat who was interested in going out. We tagged along with my friend Tara, who plays for the Trinity lacrosse team, and went to the big lacrosse party at Tripod, right across the street. However, it was pretty empty in Tripod, and thus, pretty damn lame. I was also exhausted, having woken up early to greet my parents, so we were home in bed by 12:30 a.m.

The next day my parents took my flatmates (and Caitlin, who was visiting again this weekend) out to brunch. My Dad enchanted everyone like he always does, as did my mom, and my flatmates couldn'tve been more thrilled with my family.

The week sort of went downhill from there. It was rainy and cold Sunday night, and after having a delicious meal with red wine at this Thai place called Saba (I also recommended a Chinese Fusion place called Mao, but my dad refused to eat any place named after a communist), I was out. Like a light. At 10:30 p.m. I woke up early to finish my first paper, but I was dragging through my Monday lectures. When I was out of lecture I edited my sister's English paper until dinner at a fantastic (but slow-service) Italian restaurant. I, again, didn't get home until 10 p.m. and went to bed immediately. I woke up early Tuesday to work, didn't get anything done, and fell asleep in lecture. Last night I was sure not to have any wine with dinner, but I still came home in an incredibly unproductive mood.

So now, I'm well-fed, but extremely behind. I just started writing my Irish Literature paper that's due on Friday, though I have to turn it in tomorrow because I'm going to Northern Ireland with the Butler kids this weekend. Luckily, my family took the train out to Galway this morning, and are letting me camp out in the solitude of their hotel room tonight so that I'll be able to finish my paper. I was excited at the prospect of the room's wireless not working, but lo and behold, it works for me. Perfect.

At any rate, I'm powering through because ANDREW'S COMING IN A WEEK (and a half). I'm absolutely thrilled. I took a really long route to the hotel room this afternoon so I could look for cool/romantic/cheap restaurants in my neighborhood. I really hope nothing delays him--three months apart is enough without a few hours more of a delay.

At any rate, I should get back on task. And if anyone has any questions about James Joyce's Dubliners, please send them my way.

p.s. A new revelation about Ireland: The commericals are friggin' wierd. But hysterical.