Hello again lovely people, it's been way too long. Apparently the clowns over here running this "college" program wanted us to eventually do some "schoolwork", so I've been a little tied up. I know, I'm angry too.
So, to get us all back on track, here's some of the basics:
- I'm in Ireland
- I saw my first genuine DeLorean at the Transport Museum in Belfast.
- I just performed in another music video... dressed in drag. I'll post it when it's online, but I warn you to watch at your own risk (though I got several complements on my eyeliner).
- I have had awkward exchanges with both playwrights Brian Friel and Sam Shepard, the former was in Belfast after seeing his play (he looked a little something like this), the latter was in a restaurant in Dublin on his way to use the restroom (since I could faintly hear one of my idols urinating, I probably looked something like this). I tried to slip him my script underneath the stall, but I think it actually ended up as toilet paper.
- I WENT TO PARIS, Which I think constitutes a Top 5:
- The Chocolate Cake at the Centre de Pompedu. I know, you're all like "Say what? Cake!? That stuff's all over the place!" Oh no. This was the greatest thing I have ever eaten in my life. We went for dessert one night to the restaurant looking over the city. It was the highlight of the best food weekend of my life: escargot, beef you cut like butter, banana flombe' crepes... the list goes on. Wow. I think I need a moment.
- The Louvre, and the park adjacent to it. On Saturday, it was so warm we actually got a little color on our faces -- something I wasn't expecting for another four months or so. We took a leisurely walk through the park, taking in the day. The museum itself is massive: you could spend a week in there. We did the Chris Lee version, however, and got the essentials: The Mona Lisa, Napoleon Crossing The Alps, some Italian sculpture... just enough to wet our whistle for when we come back (which I definitely hope to, if only for that cake).
- Biking! We got to see a lot of the city, and it was a great way to get around.
- The Eiffel Tower at night. Okay, so the forty thirteen-year-old girls around me in the elevator up reminded me how I had reached the lowest rung of tourism, but the view was unbeatable.
- Our hotel room... Okay, maybe not. our sheets were the same fabric as the curtains. It was quite... matching?
Honorable Mentions:
- Phillipe, the mouse who ran across our feet in a restaurant,
- Notre Dame
- The view from Mountmartre and the Church de Sacre-Coeur
- Did I say the chocolate cake?
I also found that you can survive in Paris on four phrases:
Bonjour - French 101. You've really got to sell it, though.
Merci - The most overused word of the weekend.
Pardon - Works as both an apology (mainly for being American), to get someone's attention, and to get people out of your way on the Metro or on bicycle.
Delicieux - Okay, I lied, this was the most overused word. To complement the food, and the women, as one French waiter demonstrated on Erin, to great success.
... And everything else can be sounded out, pointed at, or butchered without your knowledge. There you go, you're ready. Book your flight.
On an exciting note, I wanted to extend my CONGRATULATIONS to my cousin Ryan and his new fiancee Sari! I saw the pictures, and it looked like quite the proposal halfway down a slope while snowboarding in Utah. I thought it would've been appropriate had the ring been a Triple Black Diamond, but subtlety is key and the goal was achieved. And Ryan, just because it's your wedding doesn't mean we're not going to clear the dance floor at the reception.
Mike Plantan is currently on a flight over here for the week, he arrives at 8 in the morning. It's my spring break this week so we're looking to explore a little bit. He sent me a list of three demands:
One, that we go golfing somewhere on the Emerald Isle. We're thinking of this place back near Howth, which is great so I can visit my Selkie girlfriend.
Two, is to tour the Jameson factory, something I've been meaning to do anyway. You know, for educational purposes.
And Three, see a castle of some sort. I've fallen for this before with Mike: it usually ends with him trying to convince me that he was a king in a past life and me making terrible puns like "Serf's up" or something along those lines.
... Beyond that, the world is our oyster.
We met one of the hunger strikers in my history class this week. He was a former IRA prisoner who didn't eat for 70 days, and didn't bathe for nearly two years. In other words, he went to college.
I couldn't completely focus on what he was saying, however, because he had my uncle Robert's face. Like, it was him. I couldn't get over it. My aunt Kathleen told me that someone at my grandpa's funeral had said that when all of the male Lamb cousins stood together we looked like a bunch of IRA thugs looking to do some damage. I guess he wasn't too far off.
It was a good week for entertainment as well: saw the movie version of the Irish play Disco Pigs by Enda Walsh, and it blew me away. It's like a really messed-up Romeo & Juliet, so if you're into something a little on the fringier side it's very powerful. Cillian Murphy is in it and is as disturbed as ever. But very good. Also saw the movie "Hunger" to go along with our section on the hunger strike. A gruesome bit of Irish history, but it's well made.
Also saw the play "Woman and Scarecrow" by Marina Carr. Definitely my favorite play of hers, and probably the best play I've seen since I've been here. I could totally see Pegeen knocking it out of the park.
For those of you who haven't yet heard, my roommates and I had a bizarre / frightening arson attack on our room about three weeks ago. Someone had put a cloth doused in lighter fluid over our doorknob and had written things in chalk on our door like "Take Some Rest", among other drugged-out scribblings. Not the greatest thing to wake up to at 4:30 in the morning. Dublin, to its credit, has a noticeable heroin problem (not crippling or distracting, just noticeable), and the place we were in wasn't the most protected from some of their favorite hangout spots. We're pretty positive it wasn't anyone we knew, and the main suspect coincidentally moved out of the building the next day. Still didn't stop me from sleeping with a fire extinguisher, though.
Anyway, the Garda here are the equivalent to the Keystone Cops, so we're not expecting much more out of them. However, we were moved into a newer, much safer, much more swanky loft apartment, so we are now reaping the benefits of having a potential lawsuit go overlooked.
The best part of the whole night was calling one of the heads of the program here, scared out of our minds, telling her what happened. Her advice? "Take some rest, and we'll talk about it in the morning." It would've been a great joke, had it been a joke.
Momma's birthday is on Monday, so my thoughts are being sent her way this week. I got a great picture of two dolls that resembled my parents, which were part of the Titanic exhibit in Belfast (you know, for a boat that sank, they sure boast about building it!). Here's a picture of it:
Other than that, I'm just plugging away on my play (Poppa Lee's going to love it, I think): It's about Bernie Madoff's last night under house arrest before he goes to jail, and he's visited (a la "A Christmas Carol") by some of his victims, Carlo Ponzi (of "Ponzi scheme" fame), and maybe even his favorite musician Neil Diamond, all the while trying to plead his case to a pair of security guards that despite what he's done his life has still amounted to good, sucking them in like a Hannibal Lecter or a Richard III. It's basically two hours of the Devil incarnate playing his own advocate. It should be very fun to write, and it has been fascinating to continue to learn more and more about.
Thanks everyone for the emails and the updates. I will try to keep up more frequently but, as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder -- and I need all the help I can get!
XO
D
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