My Dublin Life

Wow, what a gorgeous weekend. Yesterday, I met up with my galpal Saoirse and a couple of her friends, and we went for a hike in the Wicklow mountains. It's ironic, because I actually love Dublin, but one of the things I really appreciate about it is the fact that you can leave it so quickly. Well, at least you can outside of the commuting rush. And the mountains are, like, right there. You can see 'em from the city, but at a distance they don't look so special and there's no way to know just how beautiful and wild and extraordinary they really are.

We hiked around a lake -- two lakes, actually -- Lough Dan and Lough Bray. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and from the top of the mountain we could see all the way to the sea and the girls told me that on a *really* clear day, you can see to Wales. I couldn't believe just how gorgeous it all was -- and it was also hard to understand how come the place wasn't just full of people (tho' it's definitely best like that -- you can pretend you're totally in the middle of nowhere). While it wasn't exactly rock climbin (I actually saw a little boy doing the walk) we felt very exercised afterwards, and all the way back into town I kept thinking: "This is it! I'm going to move to the countryside and raise chickens and cows!"

Then we got back and reality sank in. But still, to know that when I need a fix of the wilderness, it's just half an hour away is good. Honestly, I think a lot of Dubliners just don't appreciate what they've got right there, on their doorstep.

There's a neat place out there, too, called the Glencree Reconciliation Centre. All I can see is, if anything's gonna put your mind on reconciliation, it's being in such a beautiful spot.

Or it was last night, at the London gay men's choir's production of Oklahomo! (sic) I don't remember when I've laughed so much. Hilarious!! I love that venue, too. It's called Smock Alley.

Ooooh! I just googled Smock Alley so that I could post a hyperlink and found out that it's actually an old, 17th century theatre was was dug up and reopened! Amazing. Read all about it. Ha, but I bet the original founders back 16-whenever wouldn't have envisioned last night's show; about 20 gay men acting out Oklahoma! the musical, along with some more modern numbers. Fantastic. I laughed until I cried, literally. Also lost my heart to the DEVASTATINGLY HANDSOME dark-haired man showing everyone to their seats. Is there any chance he's not gay? Any? None? Shucks.

Anyway. I handed in my dissertation today. I thought I would be exhausted/relieved but I just feel a bit confused. No doubt I'll still be asked for some revisions and changes, but most of the work has been done. Saoirse, my best Irish galpal took me out for lunch to celebrate. It's a bit premature, but as she insisted....

We went to a place called "Green Nineteen" on Camden Street, about a 15 minute walk from college. I had homemade gingerbeer! Now that's pretty fancy. Nice place. When I have a little cash to spend, I'm gonna go back and treat myself to a cocktail!

Tonight though, I'm going to bed. This whole handing-in-the-dissertation business has me worn out and I'm watching a couple of kids tomorrow so I'll need my wits about me.

I can cook!!! The hard-hearted might suggest that I'm stretching the truth a little here, but so far as I'm concerned, getting dinner right three nights in a row without burning anything is a major achievement. When Bepe first suggested I pick up some work in his restaurant, I felt as though he might as well have proposed I go out and become an astronaut or something, but now I think I might be in with a chance to score a... well, a minimum wage job!

Joking aside, my head is just so full of facts and literature right now I think a spell working in the real world and getting my hands dirty is just what I need.

I wanted to say "thanks" to Bepe for all the time he's been spending helping me learn how to cook, so I was thinking I might take him to this. It's a show in the Dublin Dance Festival which is starting soon, and it's an Irish-Italian collaboration so I think it's apt for an Italian guy living in Dublin. It's true that he's more into sports and stuff than this sort of thing but we all need to try new stuff, right?

I've already talked on here about the Gay Theatre festival that started yesterday. I'm ashamed to say that I actually dropped into The Dragon on George's Street last night to see if it was full of gay theatrical types. I'm going to stop going in there, although I do love the decor. It's just too sad sitting among some of the handsomest men in Dublin and not being chatted up by any of 'em!!!

Anyway, I got text from my Uncle Joey who tells me that he's coming up to see a show with his, eh, buddy,this weekend and can they stay in my apartment. I'm really glad the whole out-of-the-closet thing is working out well for him, but when he originally came over what now seems like ages ago, he stayed in a hotel, but now that he's actually living in Ireland, seems he wants to stay in this EXTREMELY TINY apartment. Meanwhile, he's asked me not to tell anyone back home that he's living with another man, in case they "jump to conclusions".

[Rolls eyes]

Anyway, the prize for the best-named show in the Gay Theatre Festival has just got to be Oklahomo from the London Gay Men's Chorus, and I've just gotta go.

Interesting news: My greengrocer, fount of all useful information about Dublin, is going to a show starring a close friend of his daughter, a successful milliner. "I got an awful shock when he came out of the closet," he said, "but I'm after getting used to it now, and I always tell him whatever anyone does, so long as they don't do it on the streets and scare the horses, it's none of my business."

I so love that guy, and I would so miss him if I ever leave Dublin. He's such a poet!

Got to run -- my flatmate is teaching me how to make "osso buco" (spelling?) tonight.

Cloudy skies are back! And just before the weekend, too! However, I'm choosing to see this as a good thing; I've got loads of work to do in the final stretch of my masters degree plus, even if the sun doesn't decide to break through this weekend, there's actually a lot going on. Anyway, it's been so nice and sunny lately, there's really nothing to complain about.

Now that summer's coming, I'm hoping to spend a little more time in the Wicklow Mountains and maybe the Mournes. It's so beautiful there. But this weekend I'm staying right in the city. I went on camping trip last summer, and it was fantastic!

This weekend, though, I'm staying right here. There are posters up all over the city centre advertising a festival in "SoGo" -- the South Great George's Street area. That's one of the main areas where I go out anyway, so I think it'll be fun moseying about over there. Also, and I feel a little shy mentioning this, I've started writing some poetry. Although literature is my subject, I'd never been a big poetry person. Maybe it's being here that's got me started, but I've written a few things. I bet they're actually awful, but there's a pub in Wicklow Street that has a poetry evening on Mondays and I was going to try and get some courage together and check it out.

So far as picking up work, any work, to keep me here a bit longer when I've finished my MA goes, I've got some inside information re. my flatmate Bepe's restaurant. There's going to be an opening for an assistant chef in a couple of months as one of the boys is going back to Italy. When Bepe told me that, my reaction was "But I can't cook." It's true; all I really know how to make is soup. So he's teaching me all the basics of Italian cooking one recipe at a time!! Last night we did carbonara, and I burned it, so fingers crossed that tonight's puttanesca works out better. Even if I don't get the job, at least I'll have learned a few recipes.

The first one, the "puppet ballerina" actually was mesmerising in real life. This photo doesn't really do the show justice.

These other guys are puppets "waiting in the wings." The one with the beard is looking very patient!

Almost despite myself, I'm actually getting quite fond of the little urchins I've been taking care of on Saturdays. I'd never go into child care professionally, and the jury's still out on whether I'd ever actually want a rugrat of my own but, like moss, these two grow on you. And that's not all. This weekend the annual national puppet festival was on. Now, I'd almost certainly never have gone to anything (maybe one of the adult shows, but maybe not) in this, because I'm not so much the demographic they're going for. But wow! Puppet shows are fun! It's amazing how easy it is for us to suspend our disbelief. I mean, we go to the cinema and watch things in 3D and yet, although we know there's a man behind the curtain with his hand inside the puppet, we find ourselves caring about the characters. I went to a "paid" show with the kids, but there were also a lot of free shows. Sweetest scene of the weekend -- two very menacing looking teenage boys with scary hair and scowls breaking into enraptured smiles as they watched an Italian puppetteer. At the end they sloped off telling each other, "That was f****g brilliant!" "Yeah, f*****g deadly, man!"

Maybe they weren't the demographic the puppet show was going for either, but, aw, they loved it.

If you're coming next year, check it out.

On a completely different note, once I'd given the kids back to their Mom, I met my New Friend and went to the National Photographic Archive in Temple Bar. Despite the great location, this place is quite discreet about what it does, but it shouldn't be. Once, for college, I had to read Susan Sontag on photography. Seeing the current exhibition, which is about the Irish Civil War . Seeing images of actual people makes it all so different than just reading about it.

Today, I'm telling my folks that I'm not coming back to Newfoundland or even Canada when I'm done with this course. I just don't feel ready to go. It's as though there's something that's keeping me here and I'm going to have to stay until I find out what it is.