Week 1: Pictures and Things

Here's a link to the Flickr page that I'm trying to set up, so I can share a few more photos with everybody. There doesn't seem to be any great way to do this, but I'll keep working on it. 

My classes are great craic and the other people in my program are very fun, energetic folks. It's a nice diverse group to be exploring, studying, and pub-hopping with. 

Five Random Samplings From The Week, As They Come To Me:

1. I am eating way too many corn flakes. Dublin is many things, but cheap is not one of them. In an attempt to be able to try several new places without going broke in the first week, I decided to eliminate paying for breakfast by buying the largest box of generic-brand cornflakes I have ever seen, on sale for less than two euro. I have them with yogurt to make them taste differently from day to day. I'll keep you posted as to when I finally get sick of them.
2. I cannot wait to have children and use them as collateral. A man -- let's face it, a crazy man -- had parked a child's stroller (with one of his children in it)  in front of a double-decker bus, in the middle of fairly heavy traffic, in order to get the bus driver to listen to him. He would bang on the window opposite the driver and, in between cuss-filled rantings, shout out his catch-phrase, "OPEN THE DOOOOOOR! OPEN THE DOOOOOOR!" in his thick Irish brogue. Now, I'm no specialist in human relations, but I feel that this was a battle that not only could never be won, but could be lost terribly in several ways. Personally, I just loved watching it, though; the horrific exploitation of his child (only one of them, he was holding the other one) was completely transcended by how entertaining I found him. I mean, that's the peak of dramatic tension. I think it would make a great play. We left before I got to see who won the battle of wills; they might still be there now, for all I know. But now every time we come close to a double-decker, we shout at them in his honor.
3. My friend Olga was willing to pay for syphilis. Okay, so I'm really making that sound worse than it was -- but oh, how I love giving Olga a hard time. We went to a place that was recommended to us called Dice Bar on the north side of the Liffey. It was great: a total hole-in-the-wall playing 1960s folk rock and red lights giving a hellish quality to the jet-black walls and ceiling. Two locals were sitting at the bar, and the reoccurring bit was that one of them had to go out to catch a train, and every time he'd work himself up to leave, a train would whizz by, so he would sit down and have another pint. Anyway -- one of the taps was written on a napkin and read "syphilis". Olga thought that must make for an interesting beer, and had an excruciatingly awkward time attempting to order syphilis from this bartender. Because she knew nothing about the beer, she just kept repeating the word "syphilis" and holding out her money to him. Apparently, that napkin was only on one side of the tap, so this guy had no idea what she was talking about. Finally he caught on and told her that the tap was empty, with a look that read why the hell would anyone want to drink syphilis? 
4. It's a small world after all. I found out that I had seen my playwriting teacher's translation of "Tartuffe" when I had auditioned for Marquette's theater program. That same teacher, Michael West, had gotten one of his first playwriting jobs at the Gaiety Theater School while it was still run by Joe Dowling, now head of the Guthrie in Minnesota, who I had met just the week before through my lovely aunt Kathleen. Kevin Bacon's involved somehow too, I just haven't figured it out yet. 
5. Our washer is also a dryer. I'll let you guys digest that at your own rate. I'm still a little weirded out by it. These things take time. 

Let me know how you all are doing! My NYU email still works, or dylanindublin@gmail.com. It all goes to the same place, so either one. 

Until next time (I'm going to think of a better sign-off; maybe "OPEN THE DOOOOOR"? I'll work on it). XO.