More like a swimming pool. That's heated. And outside. In the middle of a city.
I got the cheap session, which means no fancy things like steam rooms or roof baths; instead I got a little round bath across the road. I was the only one in it.
Swam in circles for about an hour. Felt very silly, because it was just me and the lifeguard in the entryway.
I'm a bit of a raisin now.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Bath, day 2 (incomplete)
I say incomplete because it's only like 1:00 in the afternoon and I've already done everything I wanted to do in Bath and now I'm not sure what to do with myself.
I went to this really cool old book store
and then the roman baths
the cathedral
lunch at Sally Lunn's (apparently historic)
walked around a bit
(chocolate boobs)
and the postal museum.
I think I'll go check out the bath spa thermae thingy. I've heard it's pretty cheap. Just hope they don't notice I'll be wearing my underwear since I don't have a bathing suit..
I went to this really cool old book store
and then the roman baths
the cathedral
lunch at Sally Lunn's (apparently historic)
walked around a bit
(chocolate boobs)
and the postal museum.
I think I'll go check out the bath spa thermae thingy. I've heard it's pretty cheap. Just hope they don't notice I'll be wearing my underwear since I don't have a bathing suit..
Bath, day 1
Slept in a bit, forgot what time breakfast was and missed it. Got dressed and strolled out on the streets without my map, just for fun. Bath is a really cute town, with a downtown feel only you can walk from one end to the other in about 5 minutes. I like it.
Followed the signs to the Jane Austen Center, where a scary mannequin of a lady in period dress and a not scary real life man in period clothes guarded the doorway. Got my ticket and went upstairs to the info speech from the guide lady. Learned all about Jane's family and where and when she stayed in Bath.
(this blurry picture was her house for a while.)
The museum was mostly little displays of costumes and writing desks and plaques about 19th century Christmas games. At the end was a letter from Emma Thompson to the museum giving them a few exclusive pictures from Sense and Sensibility. Emma Thompson is funny. Her p.s. was longer than her letter.
I made the assumption I couldn't take photos, but now that I think of it I never saw any signs, so that's my fault.
I was hoping the gift shop had a Jane cameo or something, but no such luck (which was probably good so I didn't buy anything). Did have lots of I <3 Darcy things. :3
Wandered out of the center and towards a fruit and veggie stall, and bought 3 apples since I decided I was very hungry after not eating for about 29 hours. Best apple of my life.
Then my stomach was like, oh yeah, food! so I had to stop for a warm Danish pastry sandwichy thingy, but it was kinda messy so I couldn't eat much on the go.
Found my way up to the bus stop for Stonehenge, arrived just a few minutes before they left. I hadn't made a reservation and they said they were full, but I stood around a bit and turned out they had one extra seat so I took it.
Could only view S.H. from one side, as path around was all snowed up.
It was awfully cold. Went back to the bus early.
One of the other people on the bus was from Oregon. That was cool.
Everyone else on the bus was asian. In fact, most the people I see around town are asian. The other tenants in my hostel room are asian. Why are they all in Bath? It's a bit weird and confusing.
But I digress.
After S.H. we went to a small town (name forgotten) which was cool because it's where they've filmed some Harry Potter, a bit of the BBC Pride and Prejudice, and even some other not important stuff.
Then we came back. Ate the rest of my cold danish in bed, updated the blog, talked to Maggie on facebook chat, realized the girls in the room were never going to shut up and go to sleep, so dived under the covers around 11.
I remember waking up around 3:30 and being amazed that it was so quiet in the room. Not sure if that's really when they went to sleep or if that's just when I noticed it, though.
Followed the signs to the Jane Austen Center, where a scary mannequin of a lady in period dress and a not scary real life man in period clothes guarded the doorway. Got my ticket and went upstairs to the info speech from the guide lady. Learned all about Jane's family and where and when she stayed in Bath.
(this blurry picture was her house for a while.)
The museum was mostly little displays of costumes and writing desks and plaques about 19th century Christmas games. At the end was a letter from Emma Thompson to the museum giving them a few exclusive pictures from Sense and Sensibility. Emma Thompson is funny. Her p.s. was longer than her letter.
I made the assumption I couldn't take photos, but now that I think of it I never saw any signs, so that's my fault.
I was hoping the gift shop had a Jane cameo or something, but no such luck (which was probably good so I didn't buy anything). Did have lots of I <3 Darcy things. :3
Wandered out of the center and towards a fruit and veggie stall, and bought 3 apples since I decided I was very hungry after not eating for about 29 hours. Best apple of my life.
Then my stomach was like, oh yeah, food! so I had to stop for a warm Danish pastry sandwichy thingy, but it was kinda messy so I couldn't eat much on the go.
Found my way up to the bus stop for Stonehenge, arrived just a few minutes before they left. I hadn't made a reservation and they said they were full, but I stood around a bit and turned out they had one extra seat so I took it.
Could only view S.H. from one side, as path around was all snowed up.
It was awfully cold. Went back to the bus early.
One of the other people on the bus was from Oregon. That was cool.
Everyone else on the bus was asian. In fact, most the people I see around town are asian. The other tenants in my hostel room are asian. Why are they all in Bath? It's a bit weird and confusing.
But I digress.
After S.H. we went to a small town (name forgotten) which was cool because it's where they've filmed some Harry Potter, a bit of the BBC Pride and Prejudice, and even some other not important stuff.
Then we came back. Ate the rest of my cold danish in bed, updated the blog, talked to Maggie on facebook chat, realized the girls in the room were never going to shut up and go to sleep, so dived under the covers around 11.
I remember waking up around 3:30 and being amazed that it was so quiet in the room. Not sure if that's really when they went to sleep or if that's just when I noticed it, though.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Trains.
I like trains. I just hate them when they are late, cancelled, cold, overcrowded, end their line early, or when I have 2 large suitcases with me and am alone. So I've decided to punctuate this exhausting day with the pictures I took out the window of the second train I was on, just to cheer things up a bit.
My day of horribleness started the night before, actually, when I found out via note on envelope that I had not, as I had thought, paid for the room online, and that I was to leave the sum of 60 quid in cash, as they did not have any sort of card machine. 60 pounds was about all I had left, so after a major stress attack, I managed to get to sleep since I knew I was going to be getting up at 5:20. Did I say 6:30 in my previous post? See, now I didn't have money for a taxi so I had to walk to town, which meant I needed an hour to get there instead of 10 minutes.
So there I was, up 4 hours later and very sad to be leaving so early, as I would not get a lift again nor even breakfast. But I was sadder still as I discovered it is extremely difficult and tiring to drag two suitcases weighing somewhere around 40-50 pounds through a centimeter of snow on a road with many little hills. And you know what? There was significantly more traffic than I anticipated for that hour (the hour being 5:40) and not a single one of those jerks who passed me offered to give me a lift.
I mean, I know I looked helpless and pathetic. I had to stop every 15 feet to catch my breath, for God's sake. My hands were shaking the rest of the day and I had trouble forming fists.
It was a good thing I left even earlier than was needed, because the walk/drag took about an hour and 45 minutes to the train station, where I think I was too late to get on the train I was supposed to (there were specific departure times on my tickets). Not that that would have mattered, because the lad working there was a ditz and most misleading. I asked him to help me figure out which tain I was supposed to be on; he looked at my tickets and told me I was going to Hayfield, and to look for the train going there; I said, "the train that says Hayfield"; and he said "yes"; and I stood there and watched 2 trains to Edinburgh: Waverly Place go by before becoming suspicious, as I seemed to recall Edinburgh being the first scheduled train transfer; another chat with the worker confirmed that I was, indeed, supposed to get on one of those, and that the next one has been cancelled, so wait another 30 minutes pleaseandthankyou; except, no, there are so many people on the train now and on the platform that you will physically not be able to get on the next 3 trains but if you're a jerk and shove your way to the front you can push on the 4th with your suitcases.
And so, 15 minutes later we arrive at Edinburgh, where I stalk a conductor to ask which platform for the train to Manchester Piccadilly, please, and that's platform 4. So from platform 2 I lug my suitcases up a very large staircase (thankfully, people in Edinburgh are nicer than people in Linlithgow cars, because, on my stair excursions I was offered a much-needed help. Arms had been worked too much already and so I had the strength of a 12-year-old the rest of the day) and down the hall and then down the next staircase (they seriously need a lift there) to platform 4, where all the trains seemed to be running to Glasgow and the north.
As I was trying to go south, and as I stood there for about 45 minutes, and as I had gotten crap information from the previous guy I asked, I decided to double-check with a different worker (back up the stairs). He said platform 4, too. I asked him if he was sure. He said yes, so I went back down the stairs and stood for another 10 minutes and miraculously my train showed up.
Now, my tickets were supposed to be specific times with reserved seats, and this whole adventure I was very scared that they would come and check my ticket, see that I was not on the correct train, and kick me off or make me buy a new ticket or something. BUT, for once, the weather worked in my favor, because all reserved seats were cancelled and since everything was delayed all over, I don't think they gave a crap.
This train was the least crowed of all the ones I rode that day, and as I was the first major station to get on, I managed to get a seat (if backwards) and thus was able to take a few pictures out the window until the next station.
Which didn't come, because our train terminated early, and we were all forced off 5 stops early to switch to a different train that was on a platform another staircase away. (Well, it was a ramp bridge, but like I said, no arm strength made it very difficult.) We waited a bit there while they found a new driver to take us, and actually I was sitting down then too but not by the window.
Then at Manchester Pic. I asked where to go to Bristol, and was told platform 6; then a different train came to platform 6, and Bristol had no platform; then it was platform 2, but then a different train came in again, but it still said platform 2, so we milled about in confusion until the Bristol trian came in on top of the other train and we ran to the end to get on and I think they stuck the trains together.
There was no more room on the luggage rack thing when I got on, so me and my trusty suitcases (now slightly more battered and with sticky wheels thanks to this morning) stood in the space between the doors and the bathroom, which sort of worked until we got to one station where everyone and their mother got on, and people kept asking me if this was the train to _____ and I would say, no, it's to Paignton, and then they would ask me if it stopped at ______ and I would say I don't know, do I look like a train person?
We were at that station for an hour before leaving (so the aboved sentences kept up for the whole time). I picked up a (my guess) Chinese girl who was also going to Bath who stood next to me to Bristol and who followed me as I searched for the train to Bath, and who kept trying to get off at each stop because she wasn't listening to what station it was.
Then I pulled a really sketch move.
Since I had no cash left, and since I did not want to bank on my hostel or the train to London taking credit cards, and since there in front of me was a nice enough girl, and since I needed cash, I proposed to take her to dinner, pay with my card, and have her give me the cash. Only thing is, I needed like 40 pounds, which is more than one dinner. But, she was meeting 2 friends at the hotel, so I tagged along and re-explained the situation to them, and after making me try to use the cash machine, we settled on the original girl getting the money out and me then paying for 40 pounds worth of food from the grocery store. I thought it worked out splendidly, and I don't think the girl minded at all, although I'm pretty sure her one friend thought I was the creepiest thing ever.
So, armed with enough money to pay the hostel, at least, I headed there (thankfully, pretty much around the corner), and checked in at the bar counter (which is apparently owned by the hostel?) where the guy said I had a slight Irish sound in my accent, which sounded nice but he's Australian so what does he know.
People in England are apparently against elevators, because the hostel didn't have one either, just about 40 staircases up to my room, which was mostly empty except for anther chatty Australian and, for about 10 minutes, an Englishman who works for PC World.
I went to bed at like 8:30. At one point some more asian girls came in but most of the beds were missing blankets so they moved to a different room for the night. (They're back in here now.)
My day of horribleness started the night before, actually, when I found out via note on envelope that I had not, as I had thought, paid for the room online, and that I was to leave the sum of 60 quid in cash, as they did not have any sort of card machine. 60 pounds was about all I had left, so after a major stress attack, I managed to get to sleep since I knew I was going to be getting up at 5:20. Did I say 6:30 in my previous post? See, now I didn't have money for a taxi so I had to walk to town, which meant I needed an hour to get there instead of 10 minutes.
So there I was, up 4 hours later and very sad to be leaving so early, as I would not get a lift again nor even breakfast. But I was sadder still as I discovered it is extremely difficult and tiring to drag two suitcases weighing somewhere around 40-50 pounds through a centimeter of snow on a road with many little hills. And you know what? There was significantly more traffic than I anticipated for that hour (the hour being 5:40) and not a single one of those jerks who passed me offered to give me a lift.
I mean, I know I looked helpless and pathetic. I had to stop every 15 feet to catch my breath, for God's sake. My hands were shaking the rest of the day and I had trouble forming fists.
It was a good thing I left even earlier than was needed, because the walk/drag took about an hour and 45 minutes to the train station, where I think I was too late to get on the train I was supposed to (there were specific departure times on my tickets). Not that that would have mattered, because the lad working there was a ditz and most misleading. I asked him to help me figure out which tain I was supposed to be on; he looked at my tickets and told me I was going to Hayfield, and to look for the train going there; I said, "the train that says Hayfield"; and he said "yes"; and I stood there and watched 2 trains to Edinburgh: Waverly Place go by before becoming suspicious, as I seemed to recall Edinburgh being the first scheduled train transfer; another chat with the worker confirmed that I was, indeed, supposed to get on one of those, and that the next one has been cancelled, so wait another 30 minutes pleaseandthankyou; except, no, there are so many people on the train now and on the platform that you will physically not be able to get on the next 3 trains but if you're a jerk and shove your way to the front you can push on the 4th with your suitcases.
And so, 15 minutes later we arrive at Edinburgh, where I stalk a conductor to ask which platform for the train to Manchester Piccadilly, please, and that's platform 4. So from platform 2 I lug my suitcases up a very large staircase (thankfully, people in Edinburgh are nicer than people in Linlithgow cars, because, on my stair excursions I was offered a much-needed help. Arms had been worked too much already and so I had the strength of a 12-year-old the rest of the day) and down the hall and then down the next staircase (they seriously need a lift there) to platform 4, where all the trains seemed to be running to Glasgow and the north.
As I was trying to go south, and as I stood there for about 45 minutes, and as I had gotten crap information from the previous guy I asked, I decided to double-check with a different worker (back up the stairs). He said platform 4, too. I asked him if he was sure. He said yes, so I went back down the stairs and stood for another 10 minutes and miraculously my train showed up.
Now, my tickets were supposed to be specific times with reserved seats, and this whole adventure I was very scared that they would come and check my ticket, see that I was not on the correct train, and kick me off or make me buy a new ticket or something. BUT, for once, the weather worked in my favor, because all reserved seats were cancelled and since everything was delayed all over, I don't think they gave a crap.
This train was the least crowed of all the ones I rode that day, and as I was the first major station to get on, I managed to get a seat (if backwards) and thus was able to take a few pictures out the window until the next station.
Which didn't come, because our train terminated early, and we were all forced off 5 stops early to switch to a different train that was on a platform another staircase away. (Well, it was a ramp bridge, but like I said, no arm strength made it very difficult.) We waited a bit there while they found a new driver to take us, and actually I was sitting down then too but not by the window.
Then at Manchester Pic. I asked where to go to Bristol, and was told platform 6; then a different train came to platform 6, and Bristol had no platform; then it was platform 2, but then a different train came in again, but it still said platform 2, so we milled about in confusion until the Bristol trian came in on top of the other train and we ran to the end to get on and I think they stuck the trains together.
There was no more room on the luggage rack thing when I got on, so me and my trusty suitcases (now slightly more battered and with sticky wheels thanks to this morning) stood in the space between the doors and the bathroom, which sort of worked until we got to one station where everyone and their mother got on, and people kept asking me if this was the train to _____ and I would say, no, it's to Paignton, and then they would ask me if it stopped at ______ and I would say I don't know, do I look like a train person?
We were at that station for an hour before leaving (so the aboved sentences kept up for the whole time). I picked up a (my guess) Chinese girl who was also going to Bath who stood next to me to Bristol and who followed me as I searched for the train to Bath, and who kept trying to get off at each stop because she wasn't listening to what station it was.
Then I pulled a really sketch move.
Since I had no cash left, and since I did not want to bank on my hostel or the train to London taking credit cards, and since there in front of me was a nice enough girl, and since I needed cash, I proposed to take her to dinner, pay with my card, and have her give me the cash. Only thing is, I needed like 40 pounds, which is more than one dinner. But, she was meeting 2 friends at the hotel, so I tagged along and re-explained the situation to them, and after making me try to use the cash machine, we settled on the original girl getting the money out and me then paying for 40 pounds worth of food from the grocery store. I thought it worked out splendidly, and I don't think the girl minded at all, although I'm pretty sure her one friend thought I was the creepiest thing ever.
So, armed with enough money to pay the hostel, at least, I headed there (thankfully, pretty much around the corner), and checked in at the bar counter (which is apparently owned by the hostel?) where the guy said I had a slight Irish sound in my accent, which sounded nice but he's Australian so what does he know.
People in England are apparently against elevators, because the hostel didn't have one either, just about 40 staircases up to my room, which was mostly empty except for anther chatty Australian and, for about 10 minutes, an Englishman who works for PC World.
I went to bed at like 8:30. At one point some more asian girls came in but most of the beds were missing blankets so they moved to a different room for the night. (They're back in here now.)
Scotland
is full of cold! And yet, there are no wool socks to be found...
Leaving Ireland (in the most ghetto plane ever):
Entering Scotland:
Got into Linlithgow later than expected. Dropped stuff off at Chelsea's B&B (super cute) and went to dinner.
Ate dinner at the Old Post Office
Creeped on a really, really cute guy
(we very "subtly" took some pictures. and some video.)
Discovered sticky toffee pudding. Might be the best dessert ever invented. At least top 10. Mom should figure out how to make this for Christmas.
(not my picture but you need something for reference. Just picture it with more caramel sauce and ice cream.)
My sleep-place not nearly as cute. Much older and colder. Couldn't figure out how to turn the shower on. (You pull a string on the ceiling, THEN push the on button.)
Felt awkward being the only guest. Had way too much food and tea at breakfast because Scottish old ladies think people eat a lot.
Hitched a ride (from the lady, not a stranger) back to town, picked up Chelsea, went to church then Linlithgow Palace. Or Pastle, as it's really a castle, not a palace, but I was willing to compromise.
Lost Chelsea for about 15 minutes. Or maybe I was lost. It's hard to tell.
Ate lunch.
Tried to find an event going on in town that night. Discovered another American from Portland, Maine, and her Scottish friend who misunderstood my inquiry as to where to buy wool socks and tried to lend me hers.
Walked around town, went down to the frozen loch with the enormous swans who chased us down for food, etc.
That's me standing on the edge of the lake.
Ate dinner at the Four Marys. Forgot when I ordered lentil soup that no matter what, soups get blended after they're made in the UK/Ireland, thus making them all the same, boring texture. Sticky toffee pudding again.
Found something on at the church called 9 Lessons and Caroling, which turned out to be a lot of unfamiliar carols sung every verse and a bunch of bible readings. So, verily like Christmas mass. We had to stay the whole time just so we could sing Angels We Have Heard on High (that having been brought up previously in the evening, and therefore seemed important).
Then one last Bulmers (though, here, called Magners) Pear and I taxied back, where the driver had no idea where to go and I had to try and direct him. (Although, I guess that was better than the first taxi driver who took me to the wrong place.)
I think Magner's tastes a bit more pear-like, actually. And we can't figure out why in England they have Magner's, the "Irish cider", and in Ireland they have Bulmer's, the "English cider". Seriously, islands. doublyew tee haitch.
Leaving Ireland (in the most ghetto plane ever):
Entering Scotland:
Got into Linlithgow later than expected. Dropped stuff off at Chelsea's B&B (super cute) and went to dinner.
Ate dinner at the Old Post Office
Creeped on a really, really cute guy
(we very "subtly" took some pictures. and some video.)
Discovered sticky toffee pudding. Might be the best dessert ever invented. At least top 10. Mom should figure out how to make this for Christmas.
(not my picture but you need something for reference. Just picture it with more caramel sauce and ice cream.)
My sleep-place not nearly as cute. Much older and colder. Couldn't figure out how to turn the shower on. (You pull a string on the ceiling, THEN push the on button.)
Felt awkward being the only guest. Had way too much food and tea at breakfast because Scottish old ladies think people eat a lot.
Hitched a ride (from the lady, not a stranger) back to town, picked up Chelsea, went to church then Linlithgow Palace. Or Pastle, as it's really a castle, not a palace, but I was willing to compromise.
Lost Chelsea for about 15 minutes. Or maybe I was lost. It's hard to tell.
Ate lunch.
Tried to find an event going on in town that night. Discovered another American from Portland, Maine, and her Scottish friend who misunderstood my inquiry as to where to buy wool socks and tried to lend me hers.
Walked around town, went down to the frozen loch with the enormous swans who chased us down for food, etc.
That's me standing on the edge of the lake.
Ate dinner at the Four Marys. Forgot when I ordered lentil soup that no matter what, soups get blended after they're made in the UK/Ireland, thus making them all the same, boring texture. Sticky toffee pudding again.
Found something on at the church called 9 Lessons and Caroling, which turned out to be a lot of unfamiliar carols sung every verse and a bunch of bible readings. So, verily like Christmas mass. We had to stay the whole time just so we could sing Angels We Have Heard on High (that having been brought up previously in the evening, and therefore seemed important).
Then one last Bulmers (though, here, called Magners) Pear and I taxied back, where the driver had no idea where to go and I had to try and direct him. (Although, I guess that was better than the first taxi driver who took me to the wrong place.)
I think Magner's tastes a bit more pear-like, actually. And we can't figure out why in England they have Magner's, the "Irish cider", and in Ireland they have Bulmer's, the "English cider". Seriously, islands. doublyew tee haitch.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Bye bye Burren
I'm all cleaned up and packed up liquored up to leave, and as I sit here on the couch at 2:22 am waiting for 5 to roll around, I find myself thinking nothing as sappy as you thought I was going with this sentence.
the big USA is going to be very boring looking after here. Also, a little teensy weensy bit frustrating because it'll be another 8 months before I can legally drink again.
Here's a list some nummy alcohols I decided I liked while here:
-Bulmer's pear (not available in US. that sucks.)
-hot whiskey
-Jameson and ginger ale
-Kir
Other things I learned:
-Guiness is disgusting, always.
-Don't try ordering Bailey's and cream because it's not an actual drink and will get you a confused bartender.
-Bulmer's original is not as good and Bulmer's berry is just gross
-It's common to steal pint cups from pubs?
-No food is served after 8:30
the big USA is going to be very boring looking after here. Also, a little teensy weensy bit frustrating because it'll be another 8 months before I can legally drink again.
Here's a list some nummy alcohols I decided I liked while here:
-Bulmer's pear (not available in US. that sucks.)
-hot whiskey
-Jameson and ginger ale
-Kir
Other things I learned:
-Guiness is disgusting, always.
-Don't try ordering Bailey's and cream because it's not an actual drink and will get you a confused bartender.
-Bulmer's original is not as good and Bulmer's berry is just gross
-It's common to steal pint cups from pubs?
-No food is served after 8:30
It's really late and I couldn't think up a title
Still Friday, but now we're on Thursday.
Bused to Galway in the afternoon with Chelsea, Andrew, Kim, and Arianna, who then left us to go back home for the holidays. Went in search of wool socks and celtic knots, and didn't find either. Instead, found banana-chocolate crepe and a soap+water+blow dryer sink contraption. All in one! It was magical.
In other words, it was kind of a waste of expensive bus ticket money, plus I used the wrong ATM and, as I discovered later, it charged a lot more to use than normal. Angryface.
Then it was the end of semester partay at Logues! Dinner and dessert plus DJ, and fun party hats.
After we stuffed our faces we had to have about half and hour of lolling around because we were so utterly full. Then the DJ set up and played a bunch of Christmas songs, which were appropriate to the season but nearly impossible to dance to, so for a bit we didn't do much until he figured it out and played other stuff.
He even played Cotton-eyed Joe! Which was grand, but really, he was kind of a shit DJ.
And a couple of the faculty got totally wasted! It was hilarious! (I'm talking to you, Martina, Anne and Tim)
The Logue's party ended about 1, which was too early, so we moved it to Maurice's house, which had bad dancing music too (all techno. Simon's music.)
You'd think it'd've ended back at Logue's when Emily Kaelin threw up on Emerson, but it didn't. Then it didn't end when it ended. It didn't even end when Maggie lined up an Irishman, and Englishman, and a Frenchman to kiss me all in a row. (Yeah, you're jealous.) Or when I got a piggybackride back to our house by a chatty, drunk Stewart.
It probably ended around when we watched the last half hour of the harry potter movie Emily Day had running, and then the next movie after that. I say probably because God only knows what time the people still at Maurice's stopped. It's now 7 in the morning. I can't go to sleep because I have so many chores to do today and I know if I sleep I won't get up and they won't get done.
Meh.
Bused to Galway in the afternoon with Chelsea, Andrew, Kim, and Arianna, who then left us to go back home for the holidays. Went in search of wool socks and celtic knots, and didn't find either. Instead, found banana-chocolate crepe and a soap+water+blow dryer sink contraption. All in one! It was magical.
In other words, it was kind of a waste of expensive bus ticket money, plus I used the wrong ATM and, as I discovered later, it charged a lot more to use than normal. Angryface.
Then it was the end of semester partay at Logues! Dinner and dessert plus DJ, and fun party hats.
After we stuffed our faces we had to have about half and hour of lolling around because we were so utterly full. Then the DJ set up and played a bunch of Christmas songs, which were appropriate to the season but nearly impossible to dance to, so for a bit we didn't do much until he figured it out and played other stuff.
He even played Cotton-eyed Joe! Which was grand, but really, he was kind of a shit DJ.
And a couple of the faculty got totally wasted! It was hilarious! (I'm talking to you, Martina, Anne and Tim)
The Logue's party ended about 1, which was too early, so we moved it to Maurice's house, which had bad dancing music too (all techno. Simon's music.)
You'd think it'd've ended back at Logue's when Emily Kaelin threw up on Emerson, but it didn't. Then it didn't end when it ended. It didn't even end when Maggie lined up an Irishman, and Englishman, and a Frenchman to kiss me all in a row. (Yeah, you're jealous.) Or when I got a piggybackride back to our house by a chatty, drunk Stewart.
It probably ended around when we watched the last half hour of the harry potter movie Emily Day had running, and then the next movie after that. I say probably because God only knows what time the people still at Maurice's stopped. It's now 7 in the morning. I can't go to sleep because I have so many chores to do today and I know if I sleep I won't get up and they won't get done.
Meh.
Wednesday (updated!*)
I know, it's really Friday, but this is about Wednesday.
Last offical day of the semester! Robert made pizzas
to entice us to actually come to school. Apparently he was a pizza-maker once. In some non-Irish European country. Don't remember where.
That night was ceili dancing night, so we bopped over to Logue's around 10 and danced a bunch. I didn't bring my camera that night so I don't have any pictures to show, but Chelsea and Emily Croll took pics and video and once I discover where they've got to, I'll post some links.
*Huzzah! Facebook stole some photos of the dancing from Emily.
Last offical day of the semester! Robert made pizzas
to entice us to actually come to school. Apparently he was a pizza-maker once. In some non-Irish European country. Don't remember where.
That night was ceili dancing night, so we bopped over to Logue's around 10 and danced a bunch. I didn't bring my camera that night so I don't have any pictures to show, but Chelsea and Emily Croll took pics and video and once I discover where they've got to, I'll post some links.
*Huzzah! Facebook stole some photos of the dancing from Emily.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
107
end of semester exhibition!
mine!
(I had Christmas music playing in my space)
d'aww, lookit all us
And later- Sarah, getting her hair braided while she sleeps
(She had it pretty light; Steph slipped on some soap and bruised up the side of her face, and Kim fell out of a moving vehicle. I watched a cartoon until bedtime. Bwahaha.)
mine!
(I had Christmas music playing in my space)
d'aww, lookit all us
And later- Sarah, getting her hair braided while she sleeps
(She had it pretty light; Steph slipped on some soap and bruised up the side of her face, and Kim fell out of a moving vehicle. I watched a cartoon until bedtime. Bwahaha.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)