My Dublin Life

I've just seen my first ever episode of Father Ted, round at a friend's place.

Oh my gosh, I can't believe I've been in Ireland all this time without having seen it until now. Honestly, it's the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life. It's hard to believe it's so old; the last one was made in 1998, apparently.

I do love the way the Irish are good at making fun of themselves. Not that I'd dare to try, of course. I'd be too scared of putting a foot wrong.

Since the Chinese New Year Festival, I'd been planning to go to this exhibition of Chinese Art in the Chester Beatty Library at Dublin Castle. It's just 2 minutes away from Trinity, so there's no reason not to. I just hadn't gotten around to it. I don't know that much about art, far from it in fact, but I can tell you that the Chinese stuff is really different to Western Art. For one thing, a lot of the pieces on show seemed to be basically very, very fancy early comic books. You could roll 'em out and see the story. Interesting. I made a resolution to find out more about Chinese history and culture -- when I have some free time, ha ha.

Honestly, I am trying to keep busy because I am still pretty sad. I keep seeing Him. I don't know if I can even refer to him as an ex-boyfriend, because I don't know any more if he ever thought of himself that way. When we were "together" I complained I didn't see him enough. Well, now I see him everywhere. And guess what. I think he's engaged to the mother of his daughter now. I saw them at college the other day, and she was definitely wearing a sparkly ring on her left finger. So what does that make me? I guess it makes me the last fling so that he can be sure she's really the Right One before settling down for good. I feel like a used Kleenex when I think about it, honestly. It's awful. I'm just hoping that the fact that St Patrick's Day is coming up and that the city is going to be mad-cram-packed with revellers will help. Although I don't feel like it, I'm gonna arrange to do as many things as possible in the hopes that being tired will make it easier to sleep!! Everyone from home's been writing enviously about how cool it must be to be in Ireland for the festivities and I suppose, yes, despite the stuff that's going on in my personal life, it is. And as there are a couple of weeks to go, I am sure it will get easier and it will be fun. I will check it all out this week, and blog on here about my plans. If anyone has any suggestions, that'd be great too.

Saturday, I took the kids I look after to St Anne's Park. Sure is pretty up there. Although there was a chill in the air, spring is definitely here. I noticed that small kids are a lot like dogs, in many ways. And I'm fond of dogs, so I'm saying that as a *good* thing. If they don't get enough exercise, they get cranky. When they've had enough, you've got to give them something to eat. So we went to the park and I threw balls for them, and then when they started fighting, I fished out the bananas and cookies their Mom had packed for them and it was all OK again. So, just like a day at the park with two labrador pups, really. I'm starting to think that this job is going to be OK!

You know, I went around all day thinking it was Thursday. But it's not; it's Friday Now, how did that happen? Since I split up with whatshisname, I've been working really, really hard, and it's true that that makes the time just fly.

Lately, I've been getting friendly with some new people. They're a couple. I'll them Tony and Liza. I like them both, a lot. They're big into jazz and I've decided to go along with them to hear some because it's not something I've ever explored. I do kind of like what I think of as the jazz esthetic: guys in black turtlenecks with those nice retro glasses and sensitive-but-strong expressions. We will see if my stereotyping has any basis in reality. Tonight I'm going to a gig in JJ Smyths bar. Apparently, that's one of the main venues for jazz in Dublin. So it'll be an evening of discovery. I won't be drinking, coz tomorrow I'm on babysitting duty again. Tomorrow night will be a different matter. After spending all that time with the kids, I'll sure as heck need a drink or three. The Mom has booked tickets for them to go to something at Collins Barracks museum so I have to take them there. She's a very organised lady. She also suggested I might like to make cookies with them in their house the rest of the time. I guess she doesn't know that my cooking only extends to soup. I didn't know how to say no, so here's hoping there's a recipe book in their house that I can actually understand.

The next big thing in Dublin is St Patrick's Day, or Paddy's Day. I missed it last year and I have to say I am sorry I won't have visitors from home for it this year and it sounds like that sort of thing that's fun in a crowd. I was talking to my pal the local greengrocer and he said "I always go to Courttown for it because I don't like the crowds." I am not sure if Courttown is a place or a state of mind. But I LOVE crowds and I am really looking forward to it!!!

Finally, a piece of intriguing news. I was talking to my contact at Dublin Tourism, the one who organises putting this blog on their site, and she told me that a man from Irish Ferries has been in touch with her and wants to get in touch with ME. I don't want to get overexcited but...maybe he wants me to go on one of his ships and write about it here!!??!! Could it be possible?!? That would be so much fun!

That's what they're not. Kids I mean. They may look like regular people, only smaller, but I found out one thing this weekend, and that's that they are NOT regular people. They're little weirdos. In a cute, nice way... but weirdos all the same.

So I called around to this Mom's house. She lives in Kilmainham, a cool area to live, because the houses are old and pretty, and you're near downtown and the Museum of Modern Art, which has a big, huge park all round it. I would go to that park ALL THE TIME if I lived around there. You don't have to go to the museum to go in, it's just a big old patch of green in the middle city, and there's even one of those fancy French-style gardens. Not sure of the technical term.

Anything. The kids are there waiting for me. We'll call the girl "Emma" and the boy "Albert". Albert goes, "I made a picture for you" and shows it to me. It's of my tombstone with "Died 2010" written on it in squiggly crayon writing. As a student of gothic literature, I think this is kind of a nice touch, but the Mom gets all embarrassed and grabs it and makes him apologise. So we maybe didn't get off to the best of starts. Better that than the silent hostility emanating from Emma. Which I pretend I don't notice. I can understand that they are a little resentful because they're obviously used to having their Mom to themselves all Saturday and now that she's started a new business she's not going to be around weekends for a while. For me, that's 70 Euros I wouldn't have otherwise had. But for the kids, it's something they're not so happy about. And believe me, I'm gonna be earning those Euros. Fortunately, the Mom is one of those Supermoms, so every week she'll more or less tell me what she wants the kids to do, and we'll do it. My job is to be nice, stop Albert and Emma from killing each other, and get them there and back in one piece. Then I heat up the meal their Mom has left in the fridge, we all eat it and by the time I've put the plates in the dishwasher, the Mom comes back and I've got money to go out for the evening. This weekend, we went to a storytelling in the National Art Gallery. I even enjoyed it too! Although there were so many kids there, I've probably got cooties or something.

After the show, Albert looks at me really seriously and goes, "If I don't have ice cream I'll probably die, and then you'll be in trouble with my mother."

Soooo... I have never been a very patient person, but I am going to have to start channeling it now, that's for sure.


Anyway, flush with cash, I met up with Saoirse and some other friends and we went to The Church. That place is amazing! It actually used to be a church, so there's always a moment when you think, "Maybe I shouldn't be knocking back the beers in here.." A cute guy bought me a drink. There were no sparks and nothing happened, but still. Thanks, cute guy. That was just what my ego needed right then, after taking quite the bruising a week ago.

Another weekend! I'm perking up! So what if I'm single again; the only way to deal with this is to be positive. And I'm starting a new job tomorrow, so I'll have some €€€

Starting tomorrow night, I'm gonna hit the Film Festival in a big way. Yeah!

I got an email from Dublin Tourism today telling me that they've scored me two free tickets to the opera next weekend, in the Gaiety Theatre. Well, that's going to be an interesting experience for me, because it's not the sort of music I usually listen to. I do love the theatre, though, so I am feeling pretty optimistic. Bepe, my housemate, has been a great friend for me over the last few days, as I've been really sad and gloomy, so I thought he might like to come. The thinking was, well, he's Italian, Italians invented opera, obviously he's gonna like that sort of thing.

Sadly, however, he's going to be otherwise occupied. Like, watching football on Sky TV or something. Sigh, he's a lovely guy but he's not the most culturally adventurous.

In other news, my brand-new part time job kicks in this weekend. The lady from the Irish Countrywoman's Association who I met last week hooked me up with a friend of hers who was looking for someone to take care of her kids on Saturdays, as she's opened a new business in town. I met her yesterday, and we're starting on a trial basis.

I may have, ahem, slightly overstated my experience with children. The two girls I mentioned having spent a lot of time with? Actually my sister and me, growing up. But I will do my absolute best and I think it will be OK. They are an 8-year-old girl, and a 6.5-year-old boy, and she wants me to take them to things, like workshops in the museum or events in The Ark. Which will also be good for this blog, I guess. Another good thing, apart from the fact that I will be earning a little money, is that my Saturdays are now going to be very full, which means that it's going to be harder to sit about moping, which is what I'm doing most of the time since the worst weekend I've ever had. Huh. Well, at least the Russian Culture Festival is going on. Tomorrow I am going to see a "series of short informational films" in Meeting House Square in Temple Bar. Which sounds curious. And once again, I love the way the Irish just think "what the heck" and organised outdoors events all year round. It makes sense. Life is too short to worry about the things we can't change.
Right?

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.