
St. Patrick’s Day.
Mary’s sister Tory came to visit, and Alison and I were talking about going to Munich for a beer fest the weekend of April 17th, and Alison was saying, “oh I didn’t know how interested you were in going, I know you hate beer” and Tory said, “why did you come to Ireland?!”
Good question.
Lately I’ve been thinking I should have just gone to Morocco and that that would have been better, half as expensive, more academically beneficial—especially in regards to Arabic, which I so intensely want to be fluent in.
Anyway, I’m here and I try not to dwell on anything else too much. “Be here now” and “Where ever you go there you are” as the boyfriend says. :)
But I was very excited for St Patrick’s Day. From what we had heard, Tuesday night (the night of the 16th) was the night to go out, because everyone has Wednesday off, because it’s a bank holiday, and everyone has to go back to work on the 18th.
So we went out Tuesday Night after work. Went to a pub in City Centre near Grafton Street. Alison and I talked to lots of friendly Irish and a few Americans. We were accosted by a very sweet 30 year old Irish woman who grabbed Alison and I and another American woman in the bathroom and gave us a hug while proclaiming how much she loved it when the Yanks came to town. I loved her and Alison and I were proclaiming how much we loved the Irish. All in the Ladies room.

After our prolonged pub experience, Alison, Tory and I headed to McDonalds for some Shamrock Shakes. BEST. DECISION. EVER.
Woke up yesterday morning feeling on my B game. Alison and I headed back to City Centre to see the parade. The weather was kinda shitty yesterday, I’m jealous of Minneapolis, I heard you guys had 60 and sunshine there. We ended up being submerged in a large group of people and not really being able to see the parade. Which was pretty depressing. I was bummed. Plus, poor Alison measuring in at a big 5’1” couldn’t see a thing and was feeling smushed and claustrophobic.





I’m just not one of those people that enjoys being out until three in the morning, and I cant function on less than eight hours of sleep very well. I feel like I don’t really fit in with the people around me.
But I’m glad I went in today and I’m glad I wasn’t trashed from last night. Besides, I still have a cover letter and four 2000 word papers to write before my mom gets here a week from Sunday.
Ultimately, I’m happy with my internship experience and I really hope I’ll be able to leverage it into jobs and more internships. But I cant help but feel like I made the wrong decision.
The Guinness picture and the Shamrock Shake pics are way too cute for words. How did you get to be this way?!
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