Does that make me a stalker?

My dashing PhD student and new crush was walking down Dame Street yesterday. I spotted him while I was waiting to cross the road, and all of a sudden realise that I had to go the same way.

I'm so ashamed. I followed him down the road and into Dublin Castle. I saw him meet up with a smartly dressed older lady (his mom? His Mrs Robinson) at the cafe of the Chester Beatty library.

At that point, I sorta shook myself and realised that I had just FOLLOWED HIM DOWN THE ROAD like a stalker or something and hastily rushed upstairs to examine the manuscripts on display to retrospectively justify my excursion into creepiness by turning it into a trip to the museum.

"Ancient Middle Eastern Manuscripts" are likely not the first words to spring to mind when you think of Dublin, but they sure have loads of them here. I spend an hour there to confirm, at least to myself, that I am not a creepy stalker but actually a serious person and a scholar.

Know what I'm thinking? I need some exercise and fresh air. So my mission this weekend is going to be to go blackberry picking in Phoenix Park. that will also have the added bonus of getting me out of the house and away from Bepe's girlfriend who is coming over. I might rent a bike as it's a big space and I don't have one right now. I was thinking of getting one but I'm not sure how confident I feel about riding after all these years (it's been a while) so an hour or so on a bike might help me to make up my mind.


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