I was born a ramblin' (wo)man...

Yesterday, I CLIMBED A MOUNTAIN. I don't necessarily know which one it was, but it was one of the Wicklow Mountains in the Glendalough region of Wicklow National Park. (For those of you who've seen P.S. I Love You, this is where the couple first meet. Not that I've gotten around to seeing it myself yet, but you get to know these types of things when you have to describe obscure Irish locations often). JJ, Sarah's best friend from Wisconsin is visiting, and she's really sportsy, so we thought we'd humor her and do something athletic. JJ and I were researching trails, and decided upon one that was labeled "Ramble" grade. Neither of us knew what that could mean, so JJ looked it up, and the first thing she got was a picture of a woman scaling a cliff, icepick in hand. Further investigation described rambling as walking at a leisurely pace. Our trail was more of the latter, paved with blacktop or gravel the whole length, but it was still SO hardcore. We diverged from the trail often as well, scaling a huge hill to investigate a cave and forging a stream by hopping from rock to rock. I fell into the stream, so my foot was soggy for the rest of the venture, but it was still a rollicking good time. Plus, I got to wear my real athletic shoes for the second time in these five months, which was a major plus.

At the Wicklow giftshop, I came across something that changed my life forever. There was a little rack of Winnie-the-Pooh stickers with names on them, so that children might pick out their own name and be able to slather all of their belongings with Tiggers and "This Belongs To ___" inscriptions. At any rate, while browsing through the R's I found MY OWN NAME! "This Belongs To RORY"! For those who have known me for a long time, this is a very big deal, because my whole childhood I was depressed because I could never find Rory pencils or notepads at Target or Meijers. Obviously I bought said stickers, though I don't imagine I'll be sticking them onto anything that isn't hugely important to me.

Other than mountain climbing, I've really been following through on getting in all the Dublin and Ireland culture I can muster. This week I visited the National Gallery, which actually had some really fascinating 20th century Irish art and a whole gallery devoted to Jack B. Yeats's paintings (Jack Butler was the brother of William Butler, obvi). Monday I visited the botanic gardens, which were very lovely and very free. On the way home from the gardens, I found a Polish grocery store, so I decided to go in and pick up some frozen perogies. When I went to the check-out, the woman at the counter gave me the price IN POLISH--she thought I was a real-life Polish person! Of course, as awkward as I am, I asked for the price in English, right before I realized it was displayed on the cash register screen in front of me. I think I'll go back and fake it a little better sometime soon.

Another cultural accomplishment of this week was breaking into the Irish theatre scene--as a part of the two week Oscar Wilde Gay Theatre Festival, me and some of the Iveagh Court girls went to see a three-person performance of The Picture (Of Dorian Grey). I was a little skeptical, as the show was a little kitschily designed: for instance, each character was signifed by a specific pair of sunglasses, which the three actors handed off as they switched around characters. Additionally, they did little supplimentary skits between chapters, which included an imagined conversation between Brittany Spears and Kevin Federline, and at one point posed one of the most hillarious similies I've heard in quite some time: in a dialogue about how the last man (or woman) on earth would probably do very well for him or herself, one character said that in this way, sex is exactly like pizza (because the last slice of pizza, however undesirablely cold and gross it is, always is eaten). However, the actors really pulled it off, and I enjoyed the production immensely.

I was planning on going on a James Joyce Centre walking tour today, but the weather isn't cooperating, so I might be stuck indoors, studying all day. Which needed to happen sometime. I'm sorry I never gave a full account of Belgium or Paris, but honestly, I'm so burnt out from travelling that revisiting these trips would be more trouble than it's worth. I did have a fantastic time on both excursions, and you can see the pictures on facebook if you don't believe me. As for now, I'm out.