My Dublin Life

Whelan's rocks. It's a pub on Wexford Street which is a sort of shabby-chic end of town, a funny mix of fancy grocery stores and discount stores and nice looking restaurants (which I can't afford) and greasy spoons. Saoirse turned me on to it. It LOOKS like an ordinary enough pub, kinda scruffy, battered wooden floorboards and all the rest of it, and it FEELS like an ordinary pub if you go there early in the evening.

What I've found out is that if it's on in Whelan's, it's generally very good, so if you perk up in the evening, find 2o euros down the back of the sofa and want to go out, Whelan's is generally your best bet.

I took Bepe there the other day. We were going to go to the Long Hall but it was too crowded and noisy for me to listen to his tales of woe, so we went to Whelans instead. Last night. To hear this guy called Declan O'Rourke. Declan is handsome in a slightly puffy way, and when he sings... well, it's not my usual favourite style of music but he was great. Bepe liked him too.

Of course, we got chips on the way home (bad girl! no supper tonite!) and then Bepe casually laid his arm across my shoulder until we reached the flat. Is that normal? He's Italian. Maybe they all do that, all the time. Or is it meaningful? That could be awkward.

To diffuse the situation and make up my mind I started babbling about George the Librarian at the National Library and my big crush on him. Today I'm lying low for various reasons: not that much money; slight hangover; anxious feeling about Bepe; guilty feeling about badmouthing brother-in-law who sent nice email thanking me for their lovely stay and saying he really felt welcome.

I'm sure the Bepe thing is nothing--plus I don't want to have to move out. I like living on Bachelor's Walk. I think I'm going to look up my girlfriends. I'll even go shopping if they want.

Bepe and Fabia have broken up!

While I am sorry for him, OBVIOUSLY, I am not sorry to see the back of that skinny little B***.

Anyway, hilariously, she is actually having an affair with the older, married brother of the guy she's au pairing for. Apparently, he had his wife were on a "trial separation" and she pounced. Like, this is a relationship that is so going to last.

Bepe found out because she was kindly asked to leave her employment by the family who were hoping that the brother and his wife were going to sort things out. So she is on the plane back to Italy. Yay!

Of course, poor Bepe, etc. Because he was so nice to me when I had a cold, I told him that I'd take him out to drown his sorrows tonight, drinks on me. I'm thinking the Long Hall. I love it there because it's so totally old and you can really imagine Bram Stoker or Oscar Wilde or someone coming in to replenish their snuff or something. You've just got to factor out the TV and the peanuts behind the bar. There's lots of gloomy dark wood and stuff so it's just the place to be miserably style.

Seriously though he is better off without her. She is so not worth it. And I'm sure he'll find someone else really soon.

So...the family is back in town and while it is great hanging out with them and all, I am also looking forward to when they leave as balancing reading, my gradually increasing family circle and a family of sister, brother-in-law, kids and their grandma is pushing me way beyond my capacity.
They had a great time in Wexford, think they may have seen the cottage from which the ancestors of the brother-in-law left over 200 years ago and generally had fun. They stayed at a little place in the country and are now ready for dose of the city before they head home.
Although my brother in law says that they are "boring" I decided that they needed to see a bit of culture, so yesterday I traipsed them around the National Museum on Kildare Street. The kids loved it, especially the bog bodies (gruesome little brutes). Then we went over to the other section of the museum on the northside, Collins Barracks. They have a lot of cool stuff there, in no particular order, including a range of stuffed animals from the nineteeth (or eighteenth?) century. I didn't want to get too close as they looked like they might be smelly, but they went down well too.
Although the kids just loved the bog bodies, I hafta say they've been kind of haunting me. They look so vulnerable and lost and somehow as though they might even wake up, despite being squished and in pieces. And you can totally imagine how they must have looked when they were alive -- just like anyone you might see on the street. It makes the past seem a lot closer -- and it also makes me want to be cremated after I die, to avoid having my grizzled corpse giggled at by a bunch of snotty little kids

So the folks have gone down to the countryside to trace their ancestors for a few days, leaving me to think things over and attend the World Street Theatre Festival in Merrion Square, which looks like a load of fun, always assuming that it doesn't rain too much. I'll be going with my new galpal Saoirse, who says that she went last year and that it was great. I just hope I don't get dragged into any of the acts, because that's really not my kind of thing.
I'm feeling a little guilty and emotional because, as I've said before several times, I never liked my brother in law a whole lot. But when they were leaving to head down to Wexford, he gave me a big hug and said, "Thanks so much for organising things, it was great. I really appreciate it. You've been so thoughtful."
First off, that's the most I've ever heard him say to me. Then, I thought, "Well, he's always been kinda mean. Maybe he's just thanking you because of the free tickets you got from that lady in Dublin Tourism."
But then I thought, what the hey, maybe he means it. Maybe he's a stupid jock with a good heart who actually does his best. Maybe, I'm the mean one in this situation. After all, he may have got the sister knocked up and all but he does take care of his family and he did fly them all over here because it was where SHE wanted to go to see ME. So I'm left feeling a bit small and mean.
They'll be back Wednesday so I am going to make a really big effort to show them a good time and Bepe says that he will take the boys down to this place he knows to do some skateboarding.
That's another thing. Bepe likes him. He says I'm not being fair. And while Bepe is hardly the most articulate person I've ever met (plus he's speaking his second language) he's more insightful than he first appears. That's what makes it all the more surprising that he's still with Fabia. Silly cow is staying in ours tonight, and the usual mass washing of teeny undies has ensued, leaving me feeling like a big fatass. But I think there's trouble in paradise; I heard them bickering in the kitchen although I didn't understand a word, obviously.
But today is Saturday and I am going out. First to Merrion Square and the street performance, where I'll also eat, and then to a show at the Project Theatre in Temple Bar, also with Saoirse. Tomorrow, I'm gonna sit down in front of my computer and plan some really fun things for my sister and her family to do to make up for my meanness and also because I'll be spending so much money today that I won't be able to pay to do anything else!

Well, I've been entertaining the family for two days so far and it's going pretty well. First off, I was able to give them the free Dublin passes that I got in exchange for writing this blog. This made me look very generous, which was good. Then in a fit of enthusiasm I actually splashed out by myself on theatre tickets for me and my sister. We went to the Gate.
It would have been better if something Irish had been on as this was Sis's first visit to Ireland but we saw a good production of All My Sons by Arthur Miller instead. As she lives in a soulless suburb, she doesn't get out a whole lot and she really enjoyed it. We went for a Guinness afterwards and got back late to the hotel where the brother in law was not impressed, despite the fact that his lovely Mom had been taking care of the kids all evening.
He is such a jerk.
Anyway, I exerted my efforts and found a way to entertain my brother in law and get rid of him and the rug rats at the same time. I sent him to the "GAA Museum." That's the "Gaelic Athletic Museum" dedicated to all things to do with Ireland's indigenous sports. He was kinda dubious at first, but he agreed to go and take the boys, while muttering something under his breath about "pansy sports".
This is the guy who has a signed photo of Wayne Gretsky , ace ice hockey player, up over the fireplace instead of his wedding photo. I kid you not. Amazingly, assface LIKED the museum and he even said that it "wasn't their fault they didn't have ice and had to do it on the grass. "Note to the GAA. How about a promotional t-shirt: "Hurley players do it on the grass"? All the North Americans would buy totally buy it.
So that was good. And then Bepe, bless his heart, offered to take them all up to Phoenix Park to play with his remote control airplane. He really is my very own hairy angel. (That's what I've been calling him since he grew sideburns.)
That left me, Sis, and grandma-in-law free. I thought Grandma could do with some time out so persauded Sis to take her for High Tea in the Shelbourne on the recommendation of my new BGF. Expensive but very Lady Chatterly's Lover.
Now they've gone down to Wexford to see if they can find the hut that assfaces great-great grandparents emigrated from, leaving me with five days to relax until they get back. Before they left, Sis pulled me aside and said, "So what are you going to do about Bepe?"
I'm like: "What do you mean?" and she goes, "Well, he is so totally into you. It's so obvious!"
So I told her, "But he has a girlfriend?" and she said, "Oh yeah? Seen her recently?"
Well, it's true. I haven't seen her recently. The skinny cow.
Anyway, that girl I met in the library? She is really cool. We went out for a drink and I found out that she also has the biggest crush on "George" the librarian at the National Library. We love him! We are his biggest secret fan club! We are having a race to see who gets to talk to him first. I told her my fantasy about taking off his glasses and ruffling his hair and saying, "But George...you are beautiful," and she said, "No WAY, I have exactly the same fantasy!" Ha, we'll be stalking him next. George, if you are reading this, with your glasses down at the end of your nose and your subtle but devastating charm... save a smile for the tall Newfoundland girl pining at her desk, OK?
Anyway, Saoirse (as we'll call her here) is actually a biology MSc student specialising in snake venom! How cool is that! Especially as I'm studying Bram Stoker and stuff, making me an expert in, uh, vampire venom! We are going out tonight. She's taking me to "Dublin's Only Goth Club", the Dominion, and she'll come and stay over on the sofa at my place so I'll get to show her to Bepe.

I said a few entries ago I'd say what happened with the French guy, but to be honest I don't feel like going into it. He was a jerk. End of story.

I've returned to my secret obsession with one of the National Library librarians. I call him "George." Age? Hard to say. Married? I don't know. Hot? Totally--although not necessarily in an OBVIOUS way. He's the male equivalent of Melanie Griffith's mousy secretary in that film (you know the one I mean -- a golden oldie, always on TV).

We actually spoke today. He said: "No pens are allowed in here, sorry," and I said, "Uh, yeah. of course." And I looked at him yearningly, prompting him to ask me if I was OK, followed by which I coughed and examined my book.

It's a gradual sort of thing.

Anyway, yesterday my sister arrived. As this blog is anonymous, we will call her Phoebe. She's staying in a hotel not that far from my place. There's her and assface (my brother-in-law) and the smallest kid in one room and the mother-in-law and the two bigger kids in another. I booked the place for them and I was pretty nervous because the brother-in-law is one of those people who objects to most things but so far so good. They are taking it easy this morning and I will be meeting them later on. The kids are all boys and they are a bit of an unknown quantity to be as--OK I admit I've kind of been avoiding them for most of their lives as I'm not really a kid person. The mother in law is a real sweet old lady who brought her knitting and is making me a hat and has never been out of Newfoundland before. Swear to God. She's been going around exclaiming about how big everything is.

So I have to arrange everything. I'm going to get online after this post and book things up for the next four days so that they'll be having fun and not bugging me too much.

One good thing: Dublin Tourism has been able to give me some free passes so I am looking super-generous right now as that must've saved them a bunch of money. Only downside is that they expect me to arrange EVERYTHING.

It is a bit of a bummer that they will be here for the whole Bloomsday celebration. But hey--back before the first rug rat came along my sister used to be a great reader, and I'm hoping that she will come to some of the events with me while her man does something--I don't know--manly and boring. What do I care?

Finally, I promised that in the interests of impartiality I would mention three things I don't particulary like about Dublin, so here goes:

1) The weather. "What's that?" you cry. "You're from Newfoundland. You can't complain about the weather!" To which I say: It's not that it's bad, because it's really not. In fact it's been pretty pleasant a lot of the time. What cheeses me off is the unpredictability, so that you always need a plan A, a plan B and sometimes a plan C. You've got to be prepared for it to rain when you wanted a picnic, so you've always got to check what's on at the museum or the cinema too. Or on the day you planned to go to the Writer's Museum the sun shone gloriously and you just looked sadly out the window wishing you were in the park;
2) Chewing gum. What gives? How hard it is to put gum in the trash? It's all over the place--on the ground, under cinema seats. Come on guys. Dublin is a beautiful city. Stop spitting gum all over it!
3) You don't know what you've got til it's gone. How many times have I started looking for something to do only to find that there was something fabulous on--YESTERDAY! We need a better all-round entertainment site. www.entertainment.ie only has a teeny-tiny portion of the goods.

I met a girl in the National Library this morning. I haven't figured out yet if she's a potential friend or a potential rival for the heart of --sigh-- George the Librarian. But we're going out for a drink just as soon as I've offloaded the family.

Now I'm going home to plan my sister's vacation. Wish me luck.

So last night I came home and found Bepe putting together a HUGE (in comparison to our tiny living room) model airplane. The type that you have a remote control thingy for flying around in the air. I was kinda horrified, but he assured me that he'd keep it in his room. We took it out into the courtyard and horsed around it for a while until some of the other residents of the building asked us to stop. In the meantime, hilarity ensued and at one point I ended up in a bush. A thorn bush. I scratched myself pretty badly.

Then, this morning of all mornings, my alarm didn't go off, and I was nearly late for the meeting. I had to rush there without even having a shower. The Dublin Tourism office, which I had never even noticed before, is in a big converted church near the bottom of Grafton Street. It is really pretty fancy. In fact, it's almost a shame it's a tourist office instead of an art gallery or performance space. I asked, and apparently it was a Protestant church. Does that make it less sacriligious? Are the Protestants less fussy about that sort of thing?

Anyway, I found the reception and they sent me in to meet Gemma who is the lady who posted a comment here. She's the lady who is in charge of their something-or-other department. She said that one of their marketing guys found my blog and suggested using it on their site, if I said OK. That's who has been following my blog. Marketing guys. I feel so cherished.

Of course I asked, hopefully, if there was any money in it. She shuffled her papers and said, "Eh, well, times being what they are and all...recession...no extra money here." She said I might be able to make some money from Google Adwords if there's lots of extra traffic but that that's up to me. I'll have to look into it.

To cut a long story short, the answer about the money was no. BUT--and this is the good part--I will get some free Dublin Passes to use and for as long as they use the blog they'll give me some of the free event tickets that they get once in a while.

What was I going to say but yes?

When I came out, I went to Cafe Fresh for a celebratory coffee. The lady behind the counter gave me the coffee and gasped: "Oh my GOD, are you ALRIGHT?"

This is the embarrassing bit. Turns out I had scratched one of my scabs from the scratches I got falling in the bush last night and the whole time I was talking to Gemma, I had a big trail of dried blood down the side of my neck.

Oh.My.God. Dublin Tourism Lady, if you are reading this, I am actually usually quite well-presented, and I got that falling into a bush while playing with my roomie's model plane, not fighting! I'm a nice young lady from an outport!

Anyhoo, to show that I am not for buying, my next entry will be entitled: "Three Things I Do Not Like About Dublin."

And now I'm back to my books. I've found a rich seam of books on the enthralling topic of alien abductions. It's true that it's not nothing to do with my eventual dissertation, but this stuff is fabulous.