Rome ('Cause We Wanted To)

With the state of the world economy being as it is, it only makes sense that I do my part to bring it back up again. And so while my father will want to pretend he didn't read the next sentence, I followed the advice of my economics professor and decided to pump money back into the economy...aka I hopped a plane to Rome for the weekend. 

Now although my Google travels have taken me around the world and back again for the last year and a half, I have never been to Western Europe except for the U.K. I meant to visit my sister Mary in Italy when she studied abroad back in 2006, but the timing didn't work out and I have wanted to go ever since. Let me just say that Rome didn't disappoint. 

From the very moment I stepped off the plane until the time we (finally!!!) made it back to Dublin, I was in love. Around every single corner, it seemed, was another piece of history. I was fascinated by the way a walk down a single street could be a literal time trip through centuries. I spent so much time holding back from saying "wow, this is amazing" every 5 seconds so as to pull off some semblance of maturity and culture :) I was in awe.

My friend Whitney met me in the Dublin airport and, having been to Rome twice before, was the best tour guide anyone could ever ask for. She put up with my not speaking a world of Italian, getting lost and only being oriented when we were next to the Wedding Cake (aka Vittoriano), and basically becoming a mute after walking around for too many hours without having any caffeine. She didn't even bat an eye when I started stressing out big time about not making it back to work and having to answer emails via Blackberry for a good number of hours...but more on that story later. Needless to say, I would have been literally and figuratively lost without her and never would have gotten to see so many sights in such a short visit. 

We hit up all the big stuff, which would take hours upon hours for me to recap here, so I'll just give you some highlights:

Highlight #1: Twenty-nine: That is the number of nuns we saw on Sunday...yes, I counted. Granted, we spent a chunk of our day in and around Vatican City, but the city just seemed to be teeming with religious life everywhere you looked. Having never been a favorite amongst nuns back in high school (I don't understand why Sr. Rosalie didn't like all my questions or my taking notes in the pages of the Bible...), I tried to redeem myself by being on my best behavior and not pointing & shouting too loudly when counting each nun.  Oh, and I don't know where they all went after the weekend, but we only saw 10 on Monday and a single nun in the airport on Tuesday. They must've partied too hard or something? 

Highlight #2: His Holiness: In planning what we wanted to do for the day, we read in one of the guidebooks the Pope appears every Sunday at noon and gives a blessing over the people gathered in St. Peter's Square. Unsure of how many people would show up, etc., we arrived in Vatican City just before 11a.m. and joined the line to tour St. Peter's Basilica. I don't know how they did it, but the Italians have the queue-ing thing figured out. We spent more time walking back along the line trying to find the end than we did in the line weaving our way to the front. While I also noticed that it's no big deal for Italians to not bother with the line at all and just jump in wherever they pleased, everyone was quite pleasant and we were inside in no time. I have never been so impressed by anything in my life as the Basilica, and if you know me at all, that is a pretty big statement (reread above my penchant for pointing and exclaiming "wow" about absolutely everything...I grew up in Iowa, gimme a break). I couldn't help myself from feeling so unbelievably in awe of the detail that went into the design of this church...I had goosebumps the whole time (okay, I always have goosebumps) but I couldn't really talk. I think I finally understand what people say when a piece of art moves them to tears. It was incredible. 

After we were done wandering back and forth amongst the chapels and wings of the Basilica, we went outside and were greeted by a MASS of people in the Square. Where before there had been just a handful of people hanging out that weren't in the queue, it seemed every square inch was covered with life. This turned out to actually be lucky for us since we got to stay in the area reserved for seating in front of the Basilica and had a front row view of the study window. Pope Benedict XVI appeared at noon on the dot and spoke in Italian for 15-20 minutes. I recognized a few words (ciao, Padre, gloria, Spirito Santo) and noted speranza (hope) said with a great deal of frequency. I can only conclude that his words were a religious spin on what I've been hearing from Obama over the past several months :) But then he amazed me, greeting the crowd with a 5 minute blessing in SIX different languages. It was incredible and I felt incredibly humbled by my own lack of linguistics in addition to being in the presence of His Holiness. I guess I should have saved this part for last, but it was the best part of the whole trip! 

Highlight #3: Cutting with confidence: As I mentioned above, it is customary in Italy to ignore the fact that there are lines for things. One of our guidebooks advised us that, when in Rome...cutting with confidence is an art form. So, Whit and I decided to try our hand at it. We had a recommendation for a cafe and after a long day of wandering the city, I was ready for some coffee to get me through the next few hours. We found our way there almost by accident! and stood in the corner for a few moments, utterly perplexed by the scene around us. Two walls of the cafe were ensconced by a massive coffee bar,  another with a register and the fourth hidden amongst piles of coffee beans. And people were everywhere...the logistics made absolutely no sense at all. The lone menu on the wall was in 2pt font, hard enough to read if held in one's own hands, and took us a long while to even find. So...we ignored it, took the recommendation and cut our way (confidently of course) to the front of the cafe counter. After being ignored for several minutes, we finally caught the attention of a barista who informed us we needed to have cut with confidence to the register first. Back at the coffee bar, armed with receipt in hand, we received our miniscule shot of coffee precariously balanced on a plate, and asked if we could sit outside at the tables and chairs scattered out front. No, we were told, that would have cost us more. So...we stood at the countertop, sipping on our very strong coffee, and made it that much more difficult for anyone else trying to cut with confidence to the front. 

Highlight #4: Giuseppe & Giancarlo: Now wired from our shot of coffee, Whitney and I went to one of her favorite places in Rome, Piazza Navona, and people-watched while figuring out where we wanted to go to dinner. Luckily, we were given a GREAT recommendation by two locals who decided to come practice their English with us. Or, with Whit, actually, since once they found out she was an architecture student, they had 101 questions and tips for her.  When they learned I was a super-cool accountant, somehow the reaction wasn't quite the same :) But regardless, we were really excited to actually meet some Italians and after the hour-long conversation about life, love, penthouse apartments and everything in between, considered them our bffs for life...although after walking away, we realized how rude we were in that we didn't even know their names! So, we christened them Giuseppe and Giancarlo and think they'd be pretty okay with that. 

Highlight #5: Vomiting, fornication & bird dance-offs: after trying on Sunday but arriving just after it closed, we went back to the Colosseum on Monday. It is even more fascinating than the pictures and (I hate to say it) its replica in L.A. that I hold near and dear to my Trojan-loving heart. Whitney and I spent a long time staring out across the ruins, trying to remember our own Coliseum and trying to figure out what this one must have been like back in its heyday.  It blows your mind. I kept saying how much I wanted to see "before and after" pictures...why oh why no one invented the camera earlier, I will never understand!

But I also learned that both the word "vomit" and "fornication" come from the Colosseum. Apparently, the building was designed so that it could be filled in 15 minutes and evacuated in less than 5. Its exit routes, known as vomitoria, were also designed so that none of the classes had to see each other until they had been spewed onto the streets :) Apparently, the Colosseum was also a hot prostitute hang-out. These ladies would hang out after hours under the arches (aka fornices) and that is where the word 'fornicate' took its origins. There will be no charge for this history lesson :)

But the #1 thing that took my breath away in Rome was the sight we met when we left the Colosseum. I swear on all 29 nuns that there were a million birds in the sky, performing some sort of complicated dance-off. Weaving in and out, back and forth, all (human) necks were bent at the awkward angle usually reserved for the Sistene Chapel, witnessing whatever it was for 10 minutes or more. You could not tell where the mass of birds began or ended, there were that many. This sight is now my 2nd favorite part of creation, hands down. 

Highlight #6: Gelato: Oh, and how could I forget the gelato...I can't even talk about it, I already miss it so much!

The whole trip was amazing...until we got to the airport.  Apparently a landing jet ran into a flock of birds the morning before, hitting several and trapping others inside one of its engines. It had to make an emergency landing and, although no one was seriously injured, 8 people were sent to the hospital for treatment.  This minor incident shut the airport down for two whole days, so we spent a fair number of hours with the most irritable, frustrated Dubliner and his ex-girlfriend (although they kept kissing...even though her current boyfriend was there...even though he kept talking to us about getting home and going with him to some gay bars...? confused? we were!!!) and then were finally bussed over to another airport, waited for several more hours and made it back by 10pm. So, the rest of this week has been stressful getting caught up with work and sleep but it was worth it for the best Roman Holiday since Audrey Hepburn.

I'm Only Happy When It Rains

When it rains, it pours. Except, of course, when it doesn't...and is instead a torrential downpour, hold on to your britches, this storm is going to blow you over...or into a building. And then it is going to stop 5 seconds later.

I think you get the picture; the Dublin rain and I have not been playing nice. You would think with the utter tragedy I experienced in my pinkie debaucle, that the Good Lord Above would see fit to exempt me from all other woes for at least a week. Well, apparently the Big Guy has other plans (or more important things to worry about???). 

Round One of Anne versus RainStorms went a little something like this: Anne leaves apartment. Anne smiles because it is raining and she was brilliant enough to remember her umbrella. Anne pops the sucker open and turns the corner. Wind blows rain under umbrella and into Anne's face. Anne moves closer to the buildings to avoid the puddles and hide from the Wind. Wind doesn't like this. Wind picks it up a notch. Wind blows Anne into the building. Anne is WET.

Rain 1, Anne 0

Round Two: Anne leaves apartment for Mass dressed in boots, tights, dress and long pea coat (Anne looks very cute...and even did her hair!). Anne looks up and sees that it is starting to sprinkle. Anne runs back up 4 flights of stairs and grabs umbrella. Anne gets 30 steps away from her door, holding on tight (avoiding the buildings), and umbrella gets blown out backwards. Anne stands there stupified for a few seconds, then runs back 30 steps and up 4 flights of stairs and changes her entire outfit to jeans, walking shoes, zip-up jacket with hood. Anne thinks she is quite smart, holds hood over her head, walks about 1/2 a block....and the storm is over, clouds part, sun is shining and, I swear, a snotty little bird or 2 starts singing "na na nana na!"

Rain 2, Anne 0

Anne stays inside the rest of her stay in Dublin.

Okay, so the last statement isn't entirely true, but the weather has put a bit of a damper (pun intended) on the outdoor exploring.  After Round 2 (which occurred last Sunday), I had already sloshed through the rain all the day before, wandering through the city centre searching for a fancy dress for Halloween, and then spent the better part of the afternoon in Ireland's National Gallery. I only made it through the bottom floor which houses entirely Irish and European art and has a huge portrait gallery of famous Irishmen & women who have made significant contributions to the cultural, social & political life of the country. While I definitely beefed up on my Irish history, I learned that "significant" contribution doesn't have to mean you are a revolutionary politician or an tireless worker for Irish social welfare. It more than likely instead means that you have a made a significant monetary contribution, were so pretty that lords from other countries fought to marry you, or that you are Bono.  Or (my favorite) you were so vain that you had an oil portrait made of yourself and then donated it to the gallery. 

But regardless, most of the art was fantastic and I will absolutely be back to explore their Millennium Wing, especially because it is home to works by some of my favorite impressionist artists.  What's more, despite its loose definition of 'significant contribution,' the portrait gallery piqued my interest in Irish history and so I spent the next day, post-rain battle, at the Dublin Writers' Museum.  

Now, I will be honest here and tell you that if you come to Dublin, unless you have 3-4 hours on your hands and are REEEEEEEEEEEEEALLY interested in writing, Irish authors, or looking at old books and writing memorabilia, this can be dropped off your list of things to do. But, seeing as I am pretty much a dork no matter how you spin it, I loved this place. I found it interesting that, being a haven for book-lovers, their 40-some-odd panels of history about each author was in maybe 18pt font and had definite potential to render you blind by the time you left. However, they also had some interesting hand-written notes by some of the authors, giving you insight as to their loyalties to each other, the validity of their "autobiographical" works, and their penchant for alchohol. Brendan Behan, in particular, was an entertaining name-dropper in his letters to his brother while in Hollywood. Apparently he hobnobbed with Groucho Marx, Frank Sinatra, Fred Astaire...and made some observations of the Hollywood crowd that, after living in L.A. for 7 years, I would have to say still hold true today :)

After all of my indoor activities, I was starting to go a bit nuts and so was beyond delighted to see a few rays of sunshine this weekend. It poured through the night, but today was gorgeous and actually warm. I used the great weather as a chance to inflict a little bit of self-torture and walked about 2 1/2 hours each way to Phoenix Park. This is one of the oldest parks in all of Europe (#5 I think?) and dwarfs NY's Central Park, no contest. They say it's even bigger than all of the parks in London put together. Well, I believe it, and have the blisters on my heels to prove it.  Luckily, the walk was not in vain; the park is incredibly gorgeous, and well it should be since it is home to not only the Irish President but the U.S. Ambassador and Farmleigh (the official Irish State Guest House), which was my main destination.

My friend at work in Mountain View just actually moved to the States from Dublin, and he highly recommended that I visit Farmleigh on the first Sunday of the month, when it holds a farmers market. I absolutely LOVE the SF farmers market and usually trek there every Saturday, so Brian knew I would miss it while I was here. Well...no disrespect, but for all the Irish farmland, there were only about 5 stalls all together, one of which sold coffee and bottled water...the same brand that is sold next door to my apt about 2 1/2 minutes away, rather than hours. Not really what I expected,  but I did make it home with some incredible pear & walnut soda bread which definitely won't last the week. And the sun shone every painful step of the way :)

They say the nice weather won't even last through the night, but I say bring it on. Me versus the rain, no problem...I'm calling a comeback!

Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen...

So after a stressful day at the office and not coping with it very well (translation: I ate a lot of chocolate), I took myself to the gym, hopped on the treadmill, and I was off. 

Picture me, sweat dripping down my face (does it count that it had only been 2 minutes?), running faster than a speeding bullet (if that bullet were in slo-mo), craning my neck in an awkwardly extreme-upward-right position to watch the news (okay, it was a Beyonce music video) on the flatscreen, my arms pumping to the rhythm and BAM!...slamming my pinky finger right into the treadmill handle bars. 

Like any outstanding athlete, I pick myself up and get right back on the horse, going steady for another 25 mins or so and BAM! the handlebars jump out and attack my pinky finger again. I power through the end of my run and then hop off, look down...and realize my pinky finger is now severly dislocated from where God intended it to be. At least I'm hoping it's dislocated; my roommate is convinced it may be broken.

Some of us were meant to be cheerleaders........

Please send all thoughts, prayers and care packages to Anne's Pinky Finger, Apt. 20, Home of the Severly Uncoordinated :(

Story-telling

If some stories are better left untold, then they never happened to an Irishman. After spending Friday night out with a few co-workers until the wee hours of the morning, I could probably tell you their favorite color, how many brothers and sisters they ever had, and (of course) their favorite drink. 

Dan, for example, drinks ONLY Guinness, has lived his entire life in Dublin, and yet has never seen anything on my "list of things to do before going home." Dave, on the other hand, likes to support his hometown's Kilkenny ale, thinks Frenchwomen should NEVER wear berets and takes it as a severe offense against the entire country if you don't think the Irish are a miserable, pessimistic bunch. Elaine has an affinity for baby Guinness shots, prefers "old men" pubs and supported the local radio station last year on it's quest to put Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing' back on the top of the charts in Ireland by ringing every day and requesting it to be played (she succeeded). Needless to say, after hearing their life stories and more, I think I made some friends.

We started off the night at Google's TGIF, which takes place at 5pm or so in every office around the world. Whereas in Mountain View we enjoy some appetizers and listen to the founders speak on upcoming business decisions, Dublin's TGIF consists of quiz games, karaoke and alcohol consumption. Within an hour, all the beer points were empty, with everyone blaming the credit crunch for why there wasn't a back-up supply. So off to the pub down the street we went. 

I, being the party pooper that I am, assumed this was an hour excursion before everyone took off for home & their "real" friends, and so left everything in the office upstairs, minus my coat, Google badge and a handful of Euros. I could not have been more mistaken. 

Starting off as a party of 6, we shivered outside the pub at picnic tables where they taught me the only way to drink cider was over ice and to order a ha' pint was a waste of time because you'll only have to go back up to the bar later. When the requisite hour was up, I hadn't finished half my drink (whereas my co-workers each had downed about 3) and they didn't understand why I didn't want them to wait for me to finish. Already down a few points in their books, they shoved me into a cab and off we went to O'Donahue's...the former epicenter of Irish traditional music. It was a crazy labyrinth of rooms intersparsed with an outdoor (but somehow also indoor) beer garden. I can't explain it; even after only half my cider, I kept getting lost amongst the rooms. You walk into a traditional long, narrow barroom, filled with beer-bellied, gray-whiskered men drinking Guinness and watching football news on the tvs. Take a right turn at the end of the bar and you're in an overcrowded room the size of a swimming pool with benches and low tables about 2 feet off the ground (please forgive my inability to use the metric system yet!) where no one seems to mind that you keep bumping into them, spilling their beers and generally leaving a trail of dishevelment in your wake. Take another right and you're outside on a cement patio filled with the simultaneous-drinkers-and-smokers crowd...or so you think. You look up, you're not outside, you're in some sort of atrium and there are vines growing along the also-cement ceiling overhead; absolutely no clue how this foliage growth is possible. But, if you manage to not get cigarette ash burning through your coat, you've made it to the pink bar...a smaller room with about 20 high bar tables but only 10 stools total and which all seem to be reserved per the bartender. Only no one is at them. So the entire center of the room is jam packed with those "not in the reservation party" surrounded by an empty perimeter, save for the tables.

Anyhow, despite my confusion, we had a good time, their stories started flowing faster than the pints and we eventually headed off to a birthday party for another Googler...whose name I could not tell you. Only Dave knew him but everyone had seen him before...he is a GIANT. I am serious. I know I am of the shorter persuasion but he really is huge. They told me his height in meters so I went home and used Google to convert that to feet and learned he is over 7 feet tall. That's like Chris-Mihm-sized...who I also think is a giant :) Needless to say, it was pretty easy to spot the birthday boy, so everyone kept buying him drinks and he considered us best friends (along with everyone else) by the end of the night.

Now I usually adhere to the early-to-bed-early-to-rise adage, so I was ready to go home by the time we got to the party. My co-workers were having none of it. They used the excuse that since Howl at the Moon (the venue) had floors for all types of Irish drinking establishments (pub, bar, club and beer garden), I needed to experience them all...probably so I would stop asking them what was the difference :) The most memorable part was dancing in the club and being completely confused as to what kind of music people here like to listen to. I am not kidding, the DJ played Britney's latest release, followed immediately by the cheesy Italian restaurant classic "That's Amore" with absolutely no segue at all. No wonder no one seemed to know how to dance very well!  Anyhow, I'm happy I stayed, although the 3:30am visit to the office to get my apartment keys and computer made me a little self-conscious, even though I had purposefully stopped drinking about 3 hours before. Lucky for me, though, this is not a rare occurrence here and I ran into several other Googlers collecting their belongings as well.

Don't despair, Mom, I spent the rest of the weekend enriching my mind rather than ruining my liver :)

I woke up Saturday morning...rolled back over...and then met Dave at noon. Dan was supposed to join us, but he found another party during his cab ride home that kept him out until 7am. Elaine had the foresight to know she wasn't going to make it, so we never expected her. So the 2 of us, extra strong lattes in hand, set off for Trinity College for an older type of story-telling. 

This trip is my 4th time in Dublin just over the past year, and everytime my grandmother tells me I have to see the Book of Kells. For those of you who haven't heard of it, the Book of Kells is a lavishly decorated Latin translation of the 4 gospels, written by Irish monks over 1000 years ago, sometime around 800 A.D. The Book is in 2 volumes made entirely of calfskin and using dyes from such interesting sources as impregnated Mediteranean insects and they turn the page once a day (or so I've been told...disclaimer: this fact was neither confirmed nor denied by anything I read in Trinity's exhibition). It was bequeathed to Trinity in the 1600's for safekeeping, which was pretty ironic seeing as the Catholic Church considered it a mortal sin to attend Trinity until about the 1960's. 

Anyhoooooooooow, enough of my excited history sharing that none of you are probably interested in :) We had to queue for almost an hour to get into the bookshop alone and then forked over 8 Euro to see the 2 pages. It was the best-spent money of my whole trip. I was completely and utterly fascinated by not only the Book (where I made hung-over Dave read every single wall description, watch 2 silent videos on 12x12-inch screens showing how the book was created and the decorations done, and basically listen to me go "wow...read this!" for about an hour), but the Long Room upstairs as well. Trinity has the right to the very first edition of every British and Irish publication (for free!) and houses all 3 million of them in about 8 buildings. It's most rare and precious collection is stored in the Long Room, which also contains the oldest surviving Irish harp that appears on the back of Irish euros and an original 1916 Proclamation of the Irish Republic. They had to expand the building upward in 1860 to add more bookcases, this place is so huge and full. The room just smells old and being a reading/writing dork, I seriously could have sat there all day. 

Fortunately (or unfortunately for him), Dave was along and wouldn't let me waste my Saturday indoors. We watched 2 football teams (one from Northern Ireland we assume according to their accents and one from Dublin) play for awhile on the field inside Trinity until one player's nose sounded like it got broken and a fight seemed to be on the edge of breaking out. As the only spectators, we chose that moment to leave and avoid any fault by association (we were cheering for the team who seemed most likely to start the fight). We ate a very late lunch and then I went home to nap and try to figure out why my Chase United Visa won't allow me to take money out of the ATMs and all customer service numbers on the website are "no longer in service" (turns out I have to enter a + sign when dialing from my blackberry....). I wandered out a bit later to buy some birthday cards, look for a gift, and get some groceries (where I again had trouble "fitting in" when I asked if the store sold egg whites...I could have been speaking another language for all it mattered...they asked if I meant cheese!).

Today I went again to ChristChurch Cathedral where the Deacon almost didn't let me in b/c I referred to the service as a Mass. It's an Anglican-Episcopal church and the seat of the Church of Ireland. I know it's not a Catholic church, but the service is almost identical (and the wine tastes better! haha). But what really made me come back after visiting last week was the choir; it will absolutely take your breath away. I read today that this was the first choir to sing Handel's Messiah in Dublin in 1742 (not the same choir members, obviously) and I only wish I could have listened to that performance. Anyhow, I acted as pious as I could and didn't make any more faux pas and they didn't kick me out :) 

Spent the rest of the day just walking all over Dublin and had my first wanderings north of the Liffey. If you stick to the main street and 2 of its off-shoots you will be bombarded by every department store known to man...on this side of the Atlantic anyways, sadly no Nordy's over here :( I hear if you decide to get adventurous, the northern half of town can get a bit rough and was warned by co-workers to mind my bag should I go off the beaten path. Well...I didn't mean to be such a daredevil, but I took a wrong turn and got myself lost. Fortunately, I ran into Heuston Station, which I've been meaning to find for the out-of-Dublin day trips I want to take, and didn't run into any shady characters. Thankfully, no real story here :) 

By this time, it was 4pm and I was starving, so I headed back south, grabbed a coffee, and went home to make dinner. Full and exhausted, I will go to bed early tonight and promise to dream a little dream of you all. Hope this finds you happy, healthy, and enjoying the onset of fall as much as I am. My 4 sisters spent the weekend together in Chicago carving pumpkins and my kickball team is now league Champions :) Glad to hear that life continues on just fine without me....

Sending a hug to you all!

Howth Love

Just 30 minutes away on the DART lies one of the most wonderful fishing villages you could ever imagine. The day trip to Howth was recommended to me by one of my E&Y coworkers, Billy, and I can't thank him enough for giving me the suggestion (thanks WRH III!). We were again blessed with a rare beautiful day here and so Whitney, Julian and I decided this is where we would spend the afternoon:

The first thing we did when we arrived was stop for lunch at The Bloody Stream. Yes, not my first choice for a restaurant name, either, but after downing the seafood chowder, I was reminded again to not judge a book by its cover (or a pub by its name). I have never had anything more delicious...other than, of course, anything my mother has ever made for me :)

Having properly eaten more than our fill and not at all hungry, we immediately headed to the Sunday market and beelined for the tent selling fudge. Now, I have always been greeted by looks of shock and even some verbal cries of envy for my father (or is it pity??? nah...) when people find out that I have 4 sisters. I never thought it was that remarkable since my neighbors growing up had 10 children, but I must admit I gave the man selling the fudge the same look of disbelief when he told us he had 7 daughters, 3 sons and planned on evening the score....he wasn't kidding either! So my "little" family was put back in the category of normalcy (haha, imagine that!) and we bought some fudge only, of course, to help ease his financial burden. I learned that malt balls = malteezers = amazing inside fudge and happily ruined my diet once again.

We then walked out to the edge of the pier, but stopped first to watch some seals at play...and then battle the seagulls for bread other gazers had thrown.

You can see in the pics above that one had the most beautiful blue eyes ever...he was most likely blind...but he was my favorite! And not just b/c he just kept staring up at me and none of the other tourists :) I think he was the smartest seal of all, haha.

At the edge of the pier, we climbed up onto the wall to take pictures of Ireland's Eye - an old monestary and current avian sanctuary. 

We could have taken a ferry out there as well, but it didn't seem like anyone else was partaking & hadn't heard it really recommended by anyone, so we turned back towards the village & trekked up to the Abbey, which was built in the 12th century and still had graves from that era. 

I am an absolute history dork and just love reading the plaques on the side of these ruins and examining the graves for family names. There were tons of McLoughlins and Fitzpatricks and Bennetts, but it seems my ancestors either lived forever or weren't from anywhere near Howth :) My favorite pic is the 2nd from the bottom here, the cross that was so old the stones from the 2 sides had worn off. There were graves from the early 1800's that still had fresh flowers around them, and some from only a few years ago. It was pretty cool to see the contrast between them all. 

We then kept hiking out towards Howth Castle, taking a few wrong turns, asking an old man in wellies with his dog where to go, crossing the golf course, and sloshing through the mud, but it was well worth the stains on my boots (I keep telling myself, haha). 

As you can see above, we even ran into some of my fellow Sioux Citizans (the cows) but they didn't want to play, no matter how loud we moo'ed at them. They clearly weren't feeling well otherwise I'm sure I would have a picture of more then just their backsides :) 

There was more we intended to see but couldn't find and so we decided to head back to the city for the traditional Temple Bar experience. We wandered around the area and checked out no less than 1 million different restaurants haha before deciding on Fitzer's for dinner and then went across the street for some live music and more cider. Whitney and I have both noticed that boys in Europe really would rather dance with each other than stand against the wall and look cool in order to pick up girls per usual in the States. We were entertained less by the musicians than by a group of Irish boys who knew the words to every song, danced modern-day versions of Riverdance with bar stools, and eventually were escorted out :)

I can't tell you enough how great it was to have Whit and Julian with me during my first weekend here in Dublin. I miss their company tons already, especially since my roommate for the week never showed up. Thankfully, I am kept busy by work, washing my clothes literally 4 times today b/c I can't figure out how to get the dryer to work and instead keep doing the rinse cycle (waiting and wishing right now that the 4th time is a charm!), and creatively thinking of ways to avoid the rain without using an umbrella.

Sending you all a great big hug! Oh, and apparently my sister Mary isn't getting enough attention in Chicago b/c she asked for a shout-out :) If you have nothing better to do, tell her hi!

xoxo, me 

Faffing About Dublin

I want to first and foremost assure you all that I am still alive and well. I hadn't realized that this blog was more than an update of my random thoughts and whereabouts, but instead my lifeline to the world and, if not updated more frequently, it would be assumed that I was either (a) dead, (b) sick, (c) unbearably homesick, or (d) had drunk far too many pints and was asleep in the Liffey.  In reality, I just hadn't done anything noteworthy last week to write about and then was so busy faffing about this weekend that I hadn't been on the computer.

That's right, I have worked my first new phrase into my vernacular and plan to use it until everyone is pretty much sick of hearing it. I tried on a few others, but none seemed to fit. Craic...pronounced like crack...has too many uses ('what's the craic?' or 'that was good craic' or 'tonight will be loads of craic!' - interpret as you will...), deadly as an adjective is apparently a good thing, and my mother would not approve of 'Póg ma thoin.' 

But to the point...faffing about was brought to me all the way from Scotland in the form of 2 visitors for the weekend - my college roommate, Whitney, and her current roommate in Edinburgh, Julian. Whitters had only been to Dublin on a short stopover flight last year and this was Julian's first time, so we spent the weekend immersing them in the Dublin experience. If you don't believe me, this picture should be all the evidence you need:

I ended up having to work pretty far into the evening all last week, although I did escape for a few hours in between meetings to join some co-workers for a Pub Quiz!, so hadn't gotten to see much of the city yet. Well, except for Tuesday night when I went for a walk and, taking the advice of my sister Susie, didn't bring a map. I saw loads of the one area of town that it turns out you don't want to see...especially by yourself, at night, obviously sticking out like a sore thumb among the bums and the drunks sleeping on the benches. Oh Sooz...thanks for the advice :) 

But thankfully, I survived, and this weekend was the perfect time to do some official Dublin exploring (read: touristy shenanigans). We started our Saturday morning walking towards the City Centre, where we stopped into Trinity College. After snapping some photos and making a mental note to come back to see the Book of Kells, we kept going until we hit Odessa, an amazing restaurant my co-worker Aoife had recommended for bruncheon. 

SIDENOTE: That's another thing I have learned....lunch is short for luncheon and so every time you have brunch, it's really bruncheon. Phrase #2 that I love and you will soon be sick of hearing :)

After filling up on potatoes and a croissant (note, I ordered scrambled egg whites...received about a spoonful of them...apparently the "main" dish doesn't mean that is the "main" thing you will be eating...just how they justify charging 15 euro for potatoes and a slice of tomato that are probably worth less than 1euro!), we took off for the Dublin Castle and hit up the Chester Beatty Library. After that educational experience, we evened the score by walking down the most expensive shopping street in the country, Grafton Street, through St. Stephen's Green and over to....THE GUINESS EXPERIENCE. Yes, obnoxiously touristy, but I have to say this was one of the greatest tours ever, and no, not just b/c of the free beverage at the end (either Guinness or a soda....it was a tough choice...)

The storehouse is 7 stories high, and totally interactive. We were too late for the 5th floor where they teach you how to properly pour your own pint of Guinness (did you know you have to leave it standing for exactly 119.5 seconds before topping it off? you do now!), but still got to spend almost an hour in the top-level Gravity Bar with 360-degree views of Dublin and the Wicklow Mountains. We were lucky and caught it on a rare beautifully clear day and I fell in love with every last degree...even the street where we encountered "the locals."

Let's just say, they are pretty much the polar opposites of the crowd that I work with each day at the GOOG. We're walking along the street, convincing ourselves that we can smell the hops and are surely headed in the right direction for the Storehouse, when suddenly it becomes overrun with women way too young to be mothers, sidewalk hawkers, raw meat hanging from the ceiling of every shop, and a noticeable lack of teeth.  While fighting the urge to run my tongue over my own teeth and thank God (and the orthodonist) for every one of them, I am cut off by a woman pushing a stroller. She yells to her son to come along, and he responds by pushing the cart of a very elderly lady and telling her "you go back!" The formerly sweet looking old lady yells "no, YOU go back!" and tells the mother her son is "very bold" to which the mother laughs and fake-scolds her son for being so cheeky. Ever humble and repenant, he hawks a big one on the books for sale on the sidewalk and this prompts a blow hard enough to make me gasp. This apparently does the trick - the son laughs, they hold hands, and off they go inside to the chipper.

So while I don't think I will be picking up any childrearing hints from my Irish counterparts, I now feel that I could wander around the main parts of the city without getting lost. We ate dinner that night at Market Bar with some traditional (seafood pie) and not-so-traditional (nachos!) tapas. Of course, we grabbed some ha'pints of cider afterwards, too and then returned home just before midnight in order to rest up for our next day of adventures. I'll put that in a separate post b/c I think this one is already far too long - I never claimed brevity as one of my strong suits.... 

P.S. I am having some trouble getting my pictures uploaded to picasa. Once I do, I'll send out the links and update this blog post with them, too. Sorry for all the trouble! Stay tuned for part 2 - Howth Love :)

Pictures Update!

Randomly Faffing About:

The Dublin Experience: 

First Day in Dublin

After one wedding, three flights and (several) tissues from the kind Sacramento airport security team, I managed to arrive safely in Dublin today! 

The last leg of my flight landed about 3pm local time (fyi, it's 5 hrs different from East Coast time...) and the best part of all was that my bags were the first two off the baggage carousel. THE FIRST TWO! That never happens to me, so needless to say, I was stoked.  I hauled my 2 roller bags, duffel and computer backpack out to the taxi queue and was greeted by the tiniest cab driver ever. We are talking leprechaun-size, put-him-in-your-pocket-and-forget-he's-there miniature. I thought about offering to wait for the next cab but, afraid of insulting his manliness, hesitantly turned over my bags to be lifted into his trunk. The poor man (pushing 60, fyi) smiled and only let out one little groan while shoving the ridiculously overpacked bags into the trunk. I sunk guiltily into the backseat hoping I wasn't furthering the selfish/spoiled American image. 

Now usually the Irish cab drivers are my soulmates, having also been given the gift of gab. My kindred jabberwockys, I adore them and we usually talk each others ears off and I am actually sad when the ride comes to a stop. I learn more from these fellows than anyone else I've ever met in Dublin; they can yap for hours about global warming, politics, Irish history and even their own genetics (don't ask...that was a loooooooong and awkward cab ride last March). But this one didn't have anything to say except that "we're almost there!" whenever traffic brought us to a dead stop. I was a little disappointed but rest assured that his more colorful counterparts will find me eventually over the next few weeks.  Moreso, having already suffered enough physical exertion for one day, I was willing to give him a break and didn't chat much either. 

We made it to Google without a hitch and he even waited outside while I checked out my apartment keys from the security desk. I think his motivation lay more in the fact that my fare was 19.80 and I only had either a 20 euro note or a 50, he didn't have change and we both knew I wasn't giving him the 50 :) So, low and behold, I got some change from security, got my keys and said sayonara (or whatever the Gaelic equivalent is) and hauled my bags down the alley between our 2 Google buildings to The Clayton apartments.

 

My first adventure was finding the right door...the security folks told me my apt was on the 1st floor. Definitely not so since it only went from #1-5 and I am in #20. I spent a good deal of time running back and forth between doors, up flights of stairs, moving my suitcases one by one through the abismally small doorways until I finally found #20...which was where it should have been...up on the 4th floor. 

I'm trying to attach pics here of the apt - disclaimer, I am not a good photographer of anything but especially not the interiors of homes so bear with me. Also, I'm not sure if these will come through the email feed. If not, go to http://AnneAndTheIrish.blogspot.com. 

It's small but nice and I'm excited to have the bedroom with attached bath rather than the other bedroom whose bathroom is in the hall. Please note in the first picture that the kind Irish folks before me left a few beers in the otherwise empty fridge. I guess they didn't want me to have to wait a minute before embracing the culture? 

Anyhow, there was no one here when I arrived so I dropped off my stuff, found my computer and headed out the door to the office.

First packing mistake (I'm sure there will be more)....I brought the computer cord meant for Asian plugs. Thankfully the GOOG is pretty generous and the tech stop guys hooked me up with one that would work in European circuits. Spent the next few hours working (that's boring, I won't blog on that) and then decided 830 was a good time to go and walked down the street to the SPAR market for some food to make dinner.

I want to preface this next segment by saying I haven't eaten much while traveling and I was/am a bit out of sorts still. And, I didn't know what I wanted for dinner. So, while I ended up with a good little bag (lettuce, tomato, cucumber, rice, chicken, hummus, frozen veggies, wine & hand soap)....it took me over an hour to get through the store which is about the size of 1/4 a football field. NOT LARGE. I made about 18 laps, was one of maybe 5 people there, and royally confused the stock guy by asking where I could find salsa. Do you know how to explain salsa? B/c I ended up getting directed towards spicy Indian sauces for rice dishes. Yes, they had tomatoes in them and yes, they had spices and you could probably dip chips in them (mistake #2, I forget that chips here = french fries NOT baked tortillas), but not exactly what I was looking for. If you re-read shopping list above, you will notice that I gave up. I will work on finding salsa for my salads another day. 

But the best part of the story was my encounter with the checkout guy. He was really nice, didn't comment on how they all watched me take my 18 laps and couldn't figure out why I was still there, and he didn't even charge me for my tomato (somehow I messed up and was supposed to have weighed it like you do at the meat counter. sigh.....). But then came the kicker..."are you from Brazil?" UMM WHAT?!?!? I happen to think I am the most white-washed, average-looking American girl you can come by. Everyone tells me I look like "someone they know" (a nice way of saying there's nothing special about your looks haha) and I was wearing blue jeans, sneakers and a black Gap t-shirt. Nothing about me screams, or even hints for that matter, Brazilian. Anyhow, the fact that I wasn't from Brazil didn't seem to deter the guy and he ended up awkwardly keeping me at the till for about 5 extra minutes commenting on how much he's loved Brazil since he was younger and really wants to go back. I didn't have much to say (but please note my use of the word till =) I'm like, totally euro already!). 

So, a bit bewildered and still not sure what I was having for dinner, I walked back to my new apt and met my roommate for the week. Joanne is from our Krakow office and is only here until Friday morning. Her Dublin friend, Magda, was over and I chatted with them for a bit. Then went to prepare my dinner (I decided on a salad) and started, of course, by pouring a glass of wine. Which, 5 mins later, ended up all over the counter and the edge of Magda's cloth bag before I even had a sip. Not my best first impression but she laughed at my over-apologizing and said she thought it would survive. 

So, folks, not the most exciting first day but that was it. I promise to work on livening things up a bit so that you have some entertainment. Oh, and since everyone keeps asking, the weather here was great today. A bit gloomy as always but the temp was nice and cool. I didn't even need to wear a coat on my late night grocery store excursion. Although I did hear that yesterday was a little brutal so maybe it won't stay this way. Keep your fingers crossed!

Bye Bye San Fran

If you haven't been watching the gChat countdown, today is my last day in SF before I take off for Ireland. Surprisingly, I'm not going too insane. I usually stress out big time before major events since I am a chronic OCD/perfectionist/everything-needs-to-be-organized-and-on-a-list crazy person. But for some reason, I haven't been too stressed out about this one. Dun dun dunnnnn...that probably means I'm going to have a major breakdown tonight :)

The packing has been a bit chaotic....I've loaded up my biggest suitcase with the sweaters and coats and whatnot, but still have shoes, jeans, socks, underwear, makeup, etc etc etc to go (the list gets longer every day!!!!). But I figure it will all get done or....it won't and I'm off tomorrow morning either way. 

I've spent a great deal of time preparing with the stuff that probably could have been alright if I didn't get to it (hello, this blog!), but I sleep great knowing that my Sex in the City dvd is back at blockbuster and my plant has been watered one last time before moving to its new home at Chris's apartment, haha. There are a lot of things I meant to do before I took off and that I can't remember what they were, so if they involved any of you....I'm really really sorry :)

Anyhow, this was just meant to be an intro for you all to my biggest adventure to date and see if this blog feed thing actually works! Hope all is well with you in your neck of the woods! Whether I'll see you tonight or it's been a few months, I'll miss you while I'm gone and can't wait to see you again soon!

Things I'll Miss:

1. text messaging
2. PST time zone
3. football season (and maybe USC if they get their act together...)
4. sushi (i hear it's quite awful over there)
5. smoke-free restaurants & bars
6. Thanksgiving
7. all my favorite tv shows
8. Saturday morning at the farmer's market
9. my dentist appointment...oops!

...and YOU! (duh)

Things I won't Miss:

1. commuting & waking up between 4 & 6a.m.
2. San Francisco fog
3. bringing my laundry to work
4. my upstairs neighbors moving furniture EVERY NIGHT at midnight
5. the gym haha
6. being so far away from & hardly able to talk to my friends in Euro