My Dublin Life

It's a beautiful, gorgeous spring day and ordinarily I would be hugely happy to walk about Dublin enjoying the sunshine but today it's not helping overmuch. As well as sad I feel incomparably stupid. Like a kid who used to believe in Santa Claus and has just found out that Mom and Dad have been deceiving him all this while. It sucks. I saw Him today, walking across the cobble stones at Trinity College. He's evil, but still beautiful, and I would take him back in a heartbeat. He didn't see me though, because I scurried away and lurked in a doorway pretending to check my texts.

I have decided to go out every night until I feel better. I don't even care if I have to go out alone. There's a film festival on and at least in the dark nobody can see that you've been crying. I know that I look awful. To make matters worse, I haven't stopped eating since the weekend, and it's already starting to show.

This week, there's a Festival of Russian Culture on in Temple Bar, just across the river from my apartment, and I am hoping that it's gonna involve some suitably gloomy Russian art or something. I haven't really checked it out yet, but I have read quite a lot of Russian novels, and I've seen some plays, and if there's one thing the Russian really do with style (and I'm sure there's a lot more than one thing), it's melancholy. I don't care; I am not going to try to cheer up. I'm miserable, and if I have to be miserable I might as well do it properly. I'm going to check out the festival after college today and here's hoping that there will be some soulful movies about love gone wrong and stuff. Because that's what seems to be the flavour of the month around here.

[sniff]

The one good thing is, college is going well and I think I'm really beginning to focus on the idea of doing more research next year. This isn't the best time in the world to find a good "career" job, so I'm thinking a couple more years of study would be not a bad idea.

Dublin was alive with colour and spring light and men carrying bouquets of flowers this weekend, and I hated it.

Saturday night, as planned, I met That Guy at Fallon and Byrne's Wine Bar. I was dressed up. I had even, unusually for me, put on a pair of shoes with heels. I'm tall, so I usually don't bother. I gave him his present; Le Fanu's Carmilla, all wrapped up in stupid shiny paper and I note I'd made about le Fanu being one of Ireland's best and most unappreciated writers. You know, I was so excited, because I had been planning this for ages, and I'd hardly seen him over the last couple of weeks, even though we go to the same college.

I feel like such an idiot now.

He opened the book, said, "Uh yeah, thanks." (Uh, yeah, thanks???? I put a load of thought into that!!) and then he goes, "Uh, we gotta talk." And I sat there with the nice wine that I had thought he'd like as he tells me that he's gotten back together with his girlfriend, the mother of his daughter. When? Well, there's a thing. Four weeks ago. FOUR WEEKS AGO! Yes, we've been out in that time. We've been together. And he was already back with her.

I felt as though someone had stuck a knife in my gut, twisted it and then walked away. Laughing. I just got up, pushed the chair back and left. He's sent me a few texts, but I haven't answered them. I went straight home. Saturday night, I felt so bad, I just sat at my table in my room and looked at flights back home. I was seriously thinking maybe I'd just abandon the masters and leave. Then Bepe got back. Fabia hasn't been around since her last trip over, so he was on his own at the weekend too. He knocked on my door to see if I wanted a coffee, and when he saw that I'd been crying (embarrassing; I am not usually a weepy person) he made me take off those stupid high heels ("You look like you're going to fall over") and go out with him for a pint. I told him I was thinking of leaving, and he said not to be stupid, it's not Dublin's fault that I had the bad luck to hook up with such a jerk. He pointed out that things are going well: the course is going well, I've even got a part-time job to start soon (hopefully) and I am thinking of staying on to do more research. It's not worth throwing away all that because of this guy.

But oh, I am so sad. I really liked him. I really like him. And if he rang and said it was all a horrible mistake, I would go straight back. I can't believe that this has happened. Saturday, I was so upset, I didn't even want to sleep in my room, so I crashed out on the sofa in front of some rubbish on the television and woke up feeling even worse, because now I had a hangover, too. Bepe could not have been nicer. He ordered me into the shower, took me for breakfast at a local pub, Smyths on Jervis Street and basically forced me to go out and about with him to check out the Chinese New Year stuff. I did feel better after the breakfast. I guess there's nothing like a plate of greasy, salty food to give you a boost--even if it's not the healthiest start to the day.

It's funny, because I'd have thought that the first person I'd want to call would be a girlfriend, but Bepe was perfect.

I've got to stay busy, because whenever I'm idling I just start thinking about the whole thing and getting so upset. I'm gonna work harder than ever, and I'm going to go out every night until I'm so tired I just fall asleep without thinking. Is this going to make me feel better? I sure hope so, because I can't imagine feeling worse.

To my horror, round at my friend's house last night, I stood on the weighing scales in the bathroom and found that I've gained weight. And just before Valentine's weekend, too!! I guess it's just easier to tuck in to fish and chips when it's winter and the weather is cold (see, I've gone native, thinking that this is cold!)

To cut myself some slack, I should point out that I had a huge and delicious meal yesterday at lunch, and so will assume that at least half the weight gain was down to that. Still: the healthy eating starts next week. I'm not gonna start a diet on Valentine's weekend. No siree.

So, yesterday, I met the lady from the Irish Countrywomen's Association. She was a lot younger than I'd expected, and very friendly. And that's not all: she also bought me lunch. She said she wasn't expecting to get out for Valentine's because she has two kids, so this would be her treat. Nice place, Roly's. If it was up to me, I'd maybe rethink the name, which sounds like a bit of a euphemism for "fat", but I've no complaints about the food, which was sort of "down home cooking gone fancy" style. She said she'd certainly be prepared to help me to meet people around the countryside if I do decide to go down the research route, which is good to know. I haven't even talked about it with any of the professors, though, so it's all still very what-if-ish for the moment. She also told me that she has a friend who's looking for someone to take care of her kids on Saturdays, as she has a new boutique in town somewhere, and I said I'd maybe be interested. I don't know a lot about kids, but I'd like to give it a try. Especially if I do stay on to do more research, I'll need an income source.

I'm very excited about tomorrow night. I've found the perfect present for my Boyfriend. It didn't cost a lot -- it's a more symbolic gift than anything: the collected works of Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu. Everyone knows that Ireland is a land of writers and poets and, believe me, in Dublin you can't forget it, as every second pub claims to be the place where Brendan Behan used to hang out. But, in my opinion, the Irish don't make enough of a fuss about le Fanu. He PRACTICALLY INVENTED the ghost story in serious literature FFS! So where are the le Fanu postcards? Pub portraits? Come on, guys; he's one of our -- I mean your -- own!! I'm going to give it to him when we go out for wine and a snack at Fallon & Byrnes on Saturday evening- my treat. I've seen him very little the last few weeks because he's so busy with his thesis and I think it's going to be fabulous.

[Contented sigh]

Today it's like the seasons are battling in the sky over Dublin for supremacy. One minute, it's all big, black clouds and threatening to rain, and then the sun bursts through and everything is bathed in yellow sunlight. You can tell that warmer weather is around the corner and while I quite like winters, it's good to know that soon I'll be able to put away my heavy coat.

But the scary thing is that spring also means that I do need to start thinking about what to do next and, honestly, I don't feel ready to leave. That means either getting a job or starting a PhD or, perhaps, both. And should that be here, or somewhere else? There are so many reasons to stay. I've hardly seen the rest of the country. I really feel positive about my new relationship, and I've had some interesting ideas for research. Plus, although as a student I'm fairly protected from the wider world and all its problems, I do know it's not the easiest time in the world to find work. All of that is making me think that maybe I'll try to stay on and do some postgraduate work, and hopefully find a way to make a few bucks, even if it is by waiting tables. At least, as long as I have this blog, I'll get a few free tickets to things!!!

So yesterday, feeling thoughtful, I took a walk about. Near the Jervis Centre, they seem to be getting things ready for the Chinese New Year Festival this weekend. That put me in an Asian frame of mind so I went to a Filipino place I've often thought about going into, because it always seems to be full of Filipinos, and I think that's a good sign. It's called Cafe Manila and they have an all-you-can-eat deal at lunch time. I picked up a paperback in the discount book store on the same street and went on my own. How much did I eat? You don't want to know. I'd never had Filipino food before, but it's pretty good.

I'd bought a book but I didn't read. I really thought hard about things and then, out of nowhere, I had a really great idea for a research topic: Exploring links between Irish folklore and nineteenth century Gothic literature in Ireland. I mean, for instance, Bram Stoker's Dracula was set in London and elsewhere-not-Ireland, but he was Irish, right? Who knows where he found his inspiration. Last night I was at Saoirse's place, and her Mom suggested that I get in touch with an organisation called the ICA -- The Irish Countrywomen's Association. She said it's the sort of grassroots organisation that would help me do my own fieldwork easily. Sounding out the idea, I rang them up. I'm usually pretty awkward on the phone but I lucked out and got talking to a friendly lady who invited me to meet her for lunch at a place called Rolys. I've looked it up. It seems lovely, but out of my bracket, especially as I am taking my Boyfriend out Saturday for Valentine's. So it'll be a glass of water and the cheapest side salad for me. But how nice of her to not only meet me but spare her lunch time, and just because there's a small possibility that I might want to contact the members of her organisation. Really.

Am I getting excited about the weekend? Absolutely. And not just because of the Hallmark-greeting-card festival; I also haven't seen my Boyfriend that much the last couple of weeks, coz he's been so busy. I'm just really looking forward to a long evening with him over a bottle (or two) of the sort of wine I can't usually afford.

February in Dublin, and flowers are everywhere. Firstly, the real thing in the form of snowdrops and crocuses and early cherry blossom is beginning to appear in the parks, months before spring appears back home. Sure, the days are still often grey and it's not yet time to take off the winter coat, but these little flowers are so pretty in the wet winter lawns, it's almost enough to make this goth girl want to change out of her black clothes and into something a bit more summery. And that's not all. Because Valentine's Day is coming up, the stores and street vendors have gone all-out with window displays and shows of flowers and, know what? I know it's hokey and commercial and what-have-you, but who cares...it's pretty, even if you don't buy anything, it's good to see the city looking so bright and it's a welcome reminder that winter is nearly over. So there.

While we're on the topic of Valentine's Day, I've decided what to do. I'm going to take Himself (this is how the Irish refer to someone's Significant Other) out to Fallon and Byrnes Wine Bar, not on the 14th, when everything will be crazy, but on the 13th. It's great there. I can afford it (once in a while) and it somehow manages to feel both very Irish and sort of Left Bank Paris-ish all at the same time. Last time I went it was with a bunch of people from college, as a sort of informal continuation of a tutorial session. We drank a bottle of wine, solved the problems of the nineteenth-century-literature universe and hungrily watched other people eating. At the table on the left, a girl with bright pink hair and a leopard-print dress was having a mild argument with her boyfriend (didn't seem too serious) and on the right, two grey-haired ladies were planning a holiday. I love places that are for everyone.

So that's what I'm planning. Wonder what he'll do for me????

I mentioned it before, but Dublin Tourism asked me to point out again that the Chinese New Year is going to be celebrated here in a big way. I love Chinese food so I'm hoping that it's going to involve dim sum being distributed for free on Dublin's streets (although I should mention that I haven't heard that anything of the sort is happening). I do know that there are going to be street markets and concerts and all sorts of events around the city.

Just found out this weekend on a wander about the city that there are often concerts and things in Dublin Castle. I've never been, but I like the idea of a show in the castle!! Sounds fancy. :-)

Ireland won in the rugby this weekend against Italy, so things are predictably gloomy back home with Bepe, my room mate although everyone says that everyone knew what was going to happen in that match beforehand. He spend Sunday slouched miserably on the coach in a tracksuit, groaning. A sort of horrible mixture between disappointment and the associated hangover. Did I feel sorry for him? Well, not much. Just a little. I made him soup, but he didn't eat it. It's not clear if that's because the soup was a tad burned, or because of the heartache. But it's the thought that counts, right?

I thought we'd seen the last of Fabia, Bepe's on/girlfriend and then I come home last night and what do I find? Fabia! All 35 kilos of her. She's come over for the Rugby match!! I mean, come on, does the girl even like rubgy? Not that I care, but I've heard that Ireland is a sure thing for winning, so maybe the idea is that she's come over to console him? Match is on Saturday; I don't know how long she's staying. But once again our tiny bathroom is full of her lingerie, which needs to be handwashed, and drip-dried.

I raised my brows meaningfully at Bepe when she left the room at one stage last night, and he whispered that they are not back together it's just "a thing" so whatever that means...

Sure am glad I have a Boyfriend now; at least I can go out every evenng she's here, or at least the evenings he's not with his daughter.

So it's February in Dublin and of course the average visitor is thinking of...what? St.Bridget's day? Saint Valentine? The first dusting of snowdrops and crocuses in the city's parks? Well, sure. All of the above. But also, I've found out Chinese New Year! Obviously! Well, there are Chinese people all over the world, and Dublin is no exception. In the neighbourhood where I live, there are some fantastic Chinese supermarkets and just around the corner, the cutest family: Irish Mom, Chinese Dad and a pretty little girl with long jet-black hair, dark eyes and those resilient Irish freckles.

As Dublin is the sort of place where everyone jumps on the slightest excuse to have a party or go to the pub, Chinese New Year has joined the roster of festivals. As a lot of it is going to be taking place near my apartment, I'm in.

Well...I should get back to work. I want to finish early today. I've invited a few people over to my apartment for dinner (yes, it's crowded enough at the moment, but the only way I can deal with Fabia is to retaliate and bump up the numbers of not-annoying people around me) and as cooking is a major hassle for me, I need a lot of time to sort it out. No idea what to make. There's a butcher on Moore Street who sells pigs heads which, OK, look kind of disgusting but I've read are traditional and as I'm not a vegetarian, seems picky to eat one bit and not another of an animal. No idea how to cook one though.

I had a great weekend. After saving my cents every day this week, I managed to get to a couple of ticketed events at the Traditional Music Festival in Temple Bar. They were great, don't get me wrong, but what surprised me was that the highlights, at least for me, were the free events. Sunday afternoon, there was Ceili dancing on in Meeting House Square. The band was called the Kilfenora Ceili Band and they rocked. I grew up with quite a lot of similar music around me but these guys were among the best I've heard. Well, they started, and you could see everyone WANTING to dance but being shy to start. Then a young guy and a young girl did some free style Irish dancing. "Shan Nose" I think they called it. I don't know what that means.

Here's the funny thing. I think a lot of people don't realise how sexy Irish dancing can be. The guy was a skinny, fairly ordinary nice looking man maybe in his early 20s. I mean, he looked fine, but you wouldn't necessarily notice him on the street. Then he started to dance and suddenly he was all you could see. The girl danced second and then they danced together. She was gorgeous. Wish I could dance like her. Wish I looked like her. Heck, I wish I was her.

Anyway, after a while everyone was dancing and although I have two left feet, I even dragged my Boyfriend up to try.

Something you gotta love about the Dubliners is that they like their outdoors festivals, all year round. It's like they're saying: "OK, so it's northern Europe and it's cold, but we're not gonna let that stop us having a good time." After the Ceili on my way to a hot whiskey, I passed a Punch and Judy show with live music and a children's playground.

Back home, I am living in a sea of green, white and red. Why? you ask. Well, the Ireland v. Italy rugby match is coming up and I live with one of the biggest rugby fans from Italy, apparently. Bepe has tickets.

Nightmare. I'm expecting to come every night this week to a teeny-tiny living room crammed to the rafters with over-excited Italian boys discussing the match. And it hasn't even happened yet. I can't imagine how bad it's going to be if they win. Or lose.

It's February. That means Valentine's Day. I've always been one of those lame people who says she hates Valentine's Day while secretly hoping that someone will do somethind wildly romantic for her. You know the type.

Hilarious and rather Gothic Valentine factoid: Dublin is actually home to some of the body parts of the original St Valentine!!! Too cool. Check it out.

What I'm thinking though is that maybe it's time I was a liberated gal and organised something for my man, instead of waiting for him to thrill me...you know? But I don't want to be hokey, and I can't spend a lot of money.

Last of all, something odd and unexpected: My Uncle Joey is moving to Ireland. Not Dublin, for which I am slightly grateful. I love him and all, but...

No, he is moving to stay with his buddy in Wexford. He says the fishing industry may have its problems in Ireland but it's sure as heck better than back home. But the oddest thing of all was that I think he's actually moving IN with his buddy. As in, going all Brokeback Moutain on us.

Maybe I am jumping to conclusions and putting two and two together and getting five, but it all came to me in a flash. And you know, he never did get along with that ex-wife.