Oh, here it goes, here it goes, here it goes again.....

Alas, dear readers, it is time for yet another semester. This semester, I've loaded myself with four undergrad classes, two grad classes, an internship, a job, a varsity sport, RA, student ambassador, a capella, and AIAS. Overloaded? Me thinks no. 


I hope you're all excited for a new semester of complaints and sarcastic remarks! If I had something more exciting to say, I would.


On a side note, check out http://www.travelbloggingireland.com/ for some amazing blogs from my classmates and I during our Dublin Trip.


Peace out, boy-and-girl scouts.

Why I Came to Ireland

I now empathized with the wretched, green Grinch when his heart swells three, or as the Irish say, “tr-hee,” times its original size as he stands triumphant on top of Mount Krumpet. Ironically, my epiphany occurred not on a mountain, but within the depths of an ancient tomb. Engulfed by loud silence and gentle breaths, my heart expanded as my eyes trailed the thin, moving light within the tomb. Surrounded by my classmates and the ceaseless labor of my ancestors, every freckle and pore of my pale skin absorbed air rich in knowledge and moisture. Though my nostrils yearned for the crisp, light air of the luscious, rolling hills behind Newgrange, my stubborn mind decidedly ignored them in order to appease my eager soul.

As the bus pulled into the visitors’ lot at Newgrange, I thought I was at a botanical garden, not an ancient tomb. But after a stroll along a lattice-covered walkway, an expedient tour of the museum, and a stomach-wrenching bus ride down a narrow country road, I stood facing an immense mound of earth covered in stone. Following the excited tour guide, I clambered up the hill, regretting my early morning decision to don skimpy black ballet flats instead of boots. Thinking back, the skirt wasn’t my best choice, either. Regardless, I eventually found myself adjacent to the tomb, marvelling at both the structure and the picturesque countryside extending far past the tomb in every direction. After the tour guide gave a brief overview of the known facts about the site, my classmates andA I crawled down a narrow passageway to the center of the tomb. It was there that we were immersed in darkness and shown the path of sunlight that would occur each year at the winter equinox. As the dainty light fell upon the damp rock and travelled its way across the time, I wondered how such a simple civilization managed to accomplish such a feat.
  
As cliché as it may sound, this is what I live to do. Standing in near-darkness in a 5,000 year old tomb, I was overwhelmed by love and appreciation for my field of study, art history. I finally understood why my professors have claimed that art history can’t be studied from books. How can mere words and a grainy image possible compare to full immersion in the place? Simply put: it can’t.

The rocks on the side of the tomb are all indigenous

"I'll follow you into the dark. . . "

Have you ever had the urge to follow a portly, eccentric Irish actor into dark alleys and unknown pubs?

On a very basic level, it sounds like a terrible idea, especially for a gullible, young American woman. To be honest, I’d never thought of this question before last night. Upon entering a small room full of foreigners, Dubliners, and a motley crew of students, I barely noticed two men casually standing along the back wall. But, then, they spoke. However, spoke may very well be a terrible understatement. They performed. They preached. They grabbed each audience member by the soul and took a tango down a dance floor of Joyce, Wilde, and Shaw. And they had a pint or two along the way.

The Duke’s Literary Pub Crawl takes its naive, anxious volunteers on an alcoholic adventure to pubs and scenic spots that have particular value to famous Irish authors. Over the course of three hours, my intellectual comrades and I ventured down the streets of Dublin and into four pubs (the Duke, M.J. O’Neills, Davy Byrnes, and The Old Stand) listening to a middle-aged Irishman excitedly recall lines, bellow ballads, and discuss the importance of characters over pints of Guinness and tipsy smiles. By the end of the evening, I was sure that I was sitting alongside James Joyce, not my roommate.

As if the evening wasn’t invigorating enough, at each stop, we were asked trivia questions that would be combined for a competition at the end of the night. My not-so-secret inner nerd was overjoyed, as was my disturbingly-competitive inner athlete. Suffice to say that I was thrilled. As we ended the evening outside the Duke, my cider-hazy mind was still trying to maintain an air of composure for the competition. As the questions started, I found myself becoming increasingly excited as I managed to answer a few correctly. Five quick minutes, several unintentionally loud screams, and a happy dance later, I found myself finishing in second-place as my classmates hugged and high-fived me. My professors laughed as I was presented with my prize, a small bottle of Bushmills’ whiskey. Their faces went from happy to slightly concerned as I toasted my friends and took a long pull from the bottle. Oh, what a night to follow an old irish actor into the dark depths of Dublin. . .

It was love at first pub. . . 

Don't Cave to Beer Pressure. . . .

Well, my dear readers, I'd be lying to you if I said that Irish people drank very little and the stereotype was false. It turns out that no matter the night of the week, the pubs are full and the energy is lively. We've been out each night since we've arrived (much to the dismay of my liver), and we're never alone.

You'll never run out of beer in Dublin. . . 

I can't put into words how much I've loved the city. The culture is extremely diverse; actually, you're far more likely to find restaurants from other cultures than a traditional Irish restaurant. To be honest, I do not believe that the present day Irish culture is simply Irish. The island is now so diverse that it has become a melting pot of an innumerable amount of cultures.

City Centre. . . note the "intersection erection" statue that cost 4 million euros. .  .

We've sure had an amazing time thus far. We've nicknamed our group team swag; it just so happens that swagman is a synonym for traveler. Our motley crew of 17 has certainly embraced this. . . .

TEAM SWAG!

I will say that the only downfall of the trip thus far was my sickness today. Apparently early morning eggs were not a good idea :/ However, I'm feeling better and will be enjoying traditional Irish music and dance tonight! Until next time, dear readers, cheers!

Gotta live Bulmer's Cider. . . .

I want to be a saint, a scholar, & a sinner. . .

Hello again, dear readers! I must apologize that it has been sometime since I've last written. However, I've been rather busy doing other things. . . .such as venturing to the wonderful land of green and orange. Why, I'm in Ireland!

Dublin is covered in graffiti. Can you say contemporary art?

For the next 13 days, I'll be with fellow classmates in Dublin. We're staying at the Kinlay Hostel, which is conveniently directly across from Christ's Church Cathedral, one of the oldest in Dublin. Though I've only been here a day, I feel as though I've already learned so much about Irish culture. For instance, did you know it was considered inappropriate to leave a tip at a restaurant? I didn't. . . .suffice to say that my first meal (of an aubergine and courgette. . . .eggplant and zucchini. . .panini) didn't end as well as I'd have liked.

Halfway through the walkabout, we stopped at a local pub for a pint. Guinness in a Heineken glass?

Moving forward: today began our classes. We spent the morning at the Dublin Institute of Technology discussing ethnography and travel writing. After lunch, we spent the afternoon on a walking tour of the city. As an art history junkie and an architecture lover, I cannot adequately express in words how wonderful this was. So, why bother? Here are some images from my afternoon adventures. . .I hope you can enjoy Dublin as much as I do!

Tons of people use bikes to get around.
SUSTAINABLE!

The Liffey River runs through the heart of the city.

"Can you please give me a demonstration of a barbaric yawp?"

Oh, dear readers, I must apologize for my ridiculous absence from blogging. It appears that final exams, projects, and papers overwhelmed me to a point where I was unable to consider writing anything other than what was necessary. But, alas! I am alive and well and, thus, have returned.


However, I must say that I really do not have too much to discuss. I am grateful for the lovely (though disturbingly warm) holiday season. I am relishing the time spent with family and friends; after a difficult semester, nothing feels better than the warmth of home.


This evening, I am taking the opportunity to watch my favorite movies. First and foremost, I'm watching Dead Poets' Society, which is, without question, my favorite movie of all time. Whenever I watch this movie, I feel motivated to learn and explore and express and create! It makes me want to run a marathon (which we all know I'm physically incapable of doing) and then paint for days on end (which I am capable of doing). I can only hope that if I'm ever so fortunate to be a teacher, that I maintain the ability to inspire as Professor Keating (hollaback Robin Williams) is able to do in this movie. Hell, he is a fictional character and I'm still inspired.
Side note: This is filmed at St. Andrews' School. B-E-A-UTIFUL!


I really don't have much to share, dear, devoted readers. I hope you're all enjoying a wonderful holiday season. Oh, and do yourself (and society.....and myself) a favor, and be grateful this year. Whatever you have, I guarantee there are so many with so much less. If you're able to read this on a computer, you should be grateful. Remember, if the entire world put their problems in a pile, you'd likely take yours back.


Merry ChristmaChanuKwanzaaEid!

"And the best of your days will all vanish into haze when you're. . . . "

The end of that quote? ".....ON DRUGS." If I could replace the words "you're on drugs" with "it's finals week," then Weezer could officially sing a saga about my life. That, arguably, could be the most exciting part of the saga. . . .but that's okay.


It's no secret to any college student that it's finals time. No student can ignore that constant feeling of exhaustion as days spent within the stacks of the library blend into weeks and sleep becomes optional. Students who were once talkative and well-dressed now walk into class 10 minutes late, donning sweatpants and weary eyes. And, in case that isn't enough of a signal, here's how you know it's finals time:

• More time is spent in the library than in your room
• The length of time you spend sleeping is closer to a nap than a full night's rest
• The petty amount of money left in your bank account is spent on caffeinated beverages
• Working-out for hours on end seems like an excellent means of avoiding your homework
• You become an addict. 

Now, to some of you, the word addict may be a bit confusing, concerning, alarming even. But, if you would, allow me to explain. College finals turn students into addicts. Once-average students will cling to any attractive entity to avoid work. Some students work-out, others eat their feelings, and some spend hours on websites such as Facebook, StumbleUpon, or Pinterest. Some students may stay-up all night playing video games; others might clean their apartments obsessively because "a dirty room distracts me." Personally, I find myself to be a mix of several of these categories. Regardless, I can firmly state that these addictions provide unhealthy yet appealing ways to avoid the overwhelming amount of work assigned by our sadistic professors. 

Random tangent: Speaking of sadistic professors, have you ever considered looking at final exams from their perspective? I can't help but wonder if they feel encouraged or defeated as they look at exams. Do they focus on the group of students that have grasped the material and found new ways to examine a field? Or, do the professors look at all of the subpar grades and wonder if s/he has failed as a teacher? 

So students, as you're studying and writing and drinking questionable amounts of caffeine, I have a few final words of advice: 

1. Don't procrastinate. I know you'll avoid this idea, but I have to mention it anyway.
2. Remember to sleep! If you're tired, you won't be able to think, or perform, well.
3. HYDRATE! 'nuff said.
4. Make sure to take some time for yourself everyday to de-stress. How you de-stress. . . .well, that's up to you.
5. Remember: you owe it to yourself and to your professors to prove that you've learned this material. Don't throw away a semester's work because you've got holiday fever now. 
6. MOST IMPORTANTLY! These papers, projects, and exams. . . .well, they aren't the end of the world. If you don't do as well as you'd like, just remember that it's just one class, or one paper, of your entire college career. Rest assured knowing you tried your best. What more could anyone really ask for?

Well, I'm afraid I need to go continue studying. Good luck on finals, everyone! 

And the students think they have it rough. . . .