Christmas Is A Rabid Shopper

I find (and this might just be my cynical side talking...) that Christmas can really bring out the worst in people.  The the vicious tongue lashings to a sales clerk just trying to satisfy the hoard, the squinty-eyed venerable that hasn't driven in 364 days, but just has to get that last gift for little Sally, the rabid circling and defense of a particularly mouth watering sales rack.  That stress of commercialized Christmas spirit (On sale NOW!) just seems to permeate the hearts and minds of what starts out as a giving spirit, and twists it into cruelty and rage.  It's the knotted muscle in my back, the discomfort from which shortens my fuse to an intolerable length, and then the beast comes out...

This is the part where you ask yourself, "Does this guy have anything but a cynical side?"

I was walking home from work the other night, eying up the bumper-to-bumper traffic lined up in each direction (take the horrifyingly incomprehensible Dublin traffic system and just add Christmas) and I realized...

I'm not driving!

I have no car!  No white knuckled drives to the mall, or grating slags up the freeway to Fry's!  I also have very limited exposure (being thousands of miles away) to the pressures and stresses of the big, fat red-rolled, white beard pushing loads of stuff that no one wants, but will fit perfectly on my credit card.

I am divorced from Christmas!  I am the severed head of Christmas Spirit!

And then I realized...I also am thousands of miles away from all the family and friends that would normally make these stresses (almost) bearable...

Yes, this is the part where sentimentality ruins what was shaping up to be a perfectly brutal rant on all that is bad in the world.  

When I was a kid I was more than happy to reap the benefits that all that commercial spangle-wrapped goodness could offer.  I was like a race horse scrapping at the gate just before presents were opened.  These days I find that the most important part of any holiday is getting together with family, enjoying a wonderful meal, and then slipping into the food coma that is sure to follow.

Just know that we are missing all of our friends and family and we are thinking about you today as we sit around in our pajamas and watch movies, play games, and eating food.  It's just us today...

Merry Christmas!

P.S. Anyone that didn't receive a gift from me (and that is pretty much everyone), you have my permission to go buy yourself something.  Something that will bring you a little bit of joy, something you can afford, and purchased at your leisure at a time when you don't have to worry about a frothing, middle aged, red and green plaid blouse wearing, shut-in house wife clubbing you over the head with a giant plastic candy cane because you were eyeballing that 60% set of his and hers reindeer slippers...

Merry Christmas again, just for good measure!

Like Pouring Guiness

In case you hadn't heard (and how's that bomb shelter treating you, by the way?) the economy is F*CKED!  Sorry about that, but there really is no other equally appropriate descriptor.

Our relationship to this downturn is particularly acute as we are right in the heart of the industry that went down first.  Architecture, and the construction industry in general, is notoriously the first to collapse (pun intended) and the last to be built back up (again).  This time, however, the egregiously large, thin-membraned bubble that we (construction industry folk) were all happily bouncing around on was right at the heart of this plummet.  The catalyst.

This, I think, darkens our viewpoints a bit more than those outside of this industry.  I am surrounded by architects.  I have very few friends not in architecture these days, and all of them are back in the US, so all around us is doom and gloom; the status of the economy reflected painfully in the faces and conversations we see and hear every day.

Take staffing and redundancies (layoffs, for those reading at home), for example.  The most evident reflection of our economic status.  When I think about architectural staffing in Ireland I think about someone tipping out a pitcher only, instead of dark, thick Irish beer flowing out, it's people, all toppling out straight onto the sidewalk.  I'm not going to detail any specifics here, but, suffice it to say, it's not pretty...

We still have jobs!

I just thought I would throw that out there in case all of my morose harping was starting to make you nervous...

This was #1 on my list of things to be thankful for this past holiday and it looks positive that I will get to continue being thankful for it, at least for a little while.  As much as people would like to reassure us that the worst is over...they don't know sh*t!  Every partner/director is walking around with a big "?" on their forehead.  We might be OK for now, but without new work coming in we could just as easily be twiddling our thumbs (on the street) in a few months time.  We can only hope that some of the work governments are doing to try and spin things back up will take hold.

This is, by no means, to say that other industries are not feeling the crunch.  Obviously this misery is well on its way to saturating other markets, but it seems like most of the people outside of Architecture, here in Ireland at least, aren't incurring quite as many stressed induced comas as we are.

Strange Anomaly #24

It is before Halloween and they are already putting up Christmas lights?!

Return to the Sun

In late September we decided we had missed the sun for too long (though last year was said to be the worst Irish summer in 200 years, this summer may have trumped it), and with Bruno being gone we decided a trip to see him in sunny Portugal was just the right remedy. It was a collective decision with a total of nine people seeking an increase in Vitamin D and a cure to Irish pasty white, almost transparency (its the first step toward invisibility, I'm told) boarded a plane bound for Lisbon.

And now a not from the weather gods (and a statement about our weather curse). At noon Bruno called and said it was "too hot." By the time we landed we were exiting the plane under a thin skin of clouds. It was still warm, but "too hot" was no longer a worry. No rain though...yet...

Dinner in Lisbon was amazing, outdoors on the landing of a huge stair (Lisbon is very hilly). After a quick look at Bruno's new apartment we headed on to his family's beach house at praia maçã (apple beach). A simple, but wonderful beach house with one little issue: no hot water (as if we don't get enough of that at home...but that's a different story).

Sleep.

The next morning there was nothing but cloud. Pure depression. That sun we had come to worship was no where to be found. I was up early, but I was the only one.

I stewed.

By the time everyone else had gotten out of bed, however, the sun was peeking through, and by the time we hit the beach all of the clouds had been whisked away (at least away from us).

We found bliss.

Sun.

All...day...long...

Or at least the important part of the day: the daylight part. Sun, ocean, sand, sun, friends. Brilliant!

Dinner and sleep.

Rinse repeat. Morning two was cloudy as well, but by noon it had cleared away. This second round was a bit chillier, a bit windier, but still sunny. Sun, wonderful sun. It rained that night while we ate, but it wasn't much.

It was perfect. In the end we got a good patch of luck inside the bad luck of weather. The rest of Portugal got rained on the whole weekend. We can be thankful for our piece of cancer causing joy.

See all of the pictures.

Bone Wet

Heading out from Belfast (if you missed this part, please see the previous post), our course took us up along the coast for a slow, relaxed drive north and then west to our nights stay in Port Rush. The day was amazingly beautiful and we stopped here and there for pictures and to take in the wonderful ocean view. You couldn't ask for a better drive. We carried on like this, with big smiles on our naive little faces, until...dark grey blobs began to seep out of the horizon at its edges and ooze across the sky.

We headed on to our first real tourist hotspot as the grim grey slowly extracted all of the day's beautiful color. A few sprinkles fell here and there, but then subsided. The sky looked content just to stone face the sun. Perhaps that's just what we told ourselves.

Pulling into the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge parking lot, the sky looked grim. The rope bridge was a must see on this Northern Irish coastal tour, so we suited up and headed up to the entrance point. Half way the drops started falling.

"Perhaps we should head back, sit in the car, and wait this out? We're in no real hurry." I said, trying to avoid damp pants.

"Nah, this little bit of rain could go on for hours. Lets just power through!"

Mariah was insistent, and we were suited up with rain jackets. Not liking to take pictures in the rain, I was primarily trying to avoid ruining that part of my experience (photography has become on the most enjoyable piece of traveling for me), but in all likelihood this marginal kind of rain could continue indefinitely.

We continued on.

As we arrived at the ticketing booth, as small line had formed and we took our places. A few more people stacked up behind us and we progressed slowly on toward ticket freedom. Not more than five minutes into this process, but far enough that we were committed...

BUCKETS!

Buckets, and buckets, and buckets, and more buckets, and fire hose of rain descended down upon us. We scrambled to draw our bags and cameras under something waterproof. Mariah produced a half-a-person umbrella for the two of us and we huddled beneath it. The rain, seeming stored in those clouds to a bursting point, soaked us bone deep within a matter of seconds. Anything without protective cover was fully saturated. Any chink in that armor was penetrated. The "water resistant" wind breaker I was sporting was re-defined as "water resistant only until saturated with ludicrous amounts of water and then seepy wherever it has contact with something else" windbreaker.

The rain continued at full force. And we stood...in line...

Tickets purchased were immediately wet, stuffed into an already wet pocket. An extra plastic poncho was purchased for me, in hopes that the extra layer would help seal things up. It did...sort of. Everything, however, was already wet, or at some varying level of dampness. The only thing kept safe was the camera bag, shielded via life and limb.

We trudged on towards the bridge, rain beating down.

I can't really put into words how unbelievably pissed I was (the rage version, not the drinking). Shooting through my head were the first few moments of moderate rain where I had suggested we wait in the car. I had wanted to wait! And despite the completely logical decision to move on, and the incredibly unlucky timing (and lack of any proper shelter), I had been TRICKED into enduring this dousing of biblical proportions (I would envy the quantity of water in my own shower)! TRICKED!

The rain slowed...and then it stopped...mostly.

I decided that this might be my only opportunity to take any pictures before the rain beast returned, so I drug my camera out from beneath the many layers of plastic. We made it down to the bridge entrance (a good 10 minute walk from the ticket booth) where another line was forming (crossing had to be done in shifts and was slow). We waited for a bit, with rain sprinkling intermittently, a constant reminder that the beast could return.

The bridge, a rope bridge, though sturdily made and fairly modern, spanned from the mainland across a 30 foot drop over to a small island. In crossing I didn't feel one bit of un-safety, though I did make sure to keep my camera squarely in hand. Disappointing to say the least.

Once on the other side we managed our way up to the top of the small island. The only thing going through my head at this point was "It's a f***ing ROCK! we just got soaked to cross a pathetic little not-scarry rope bridge over to a rock with nothing on it!"

I took pictures as therapy...

As we felt the experience coming to an end, it was ended for us by the steady increase in spatters against the already dark stone. The rain frothed up again, no where near to its previous level, but more than enough to end my picture-taking fun. We crossed back over and headed for the car. More of the day was left than I would have liked, given the squishy sensation in my shoes, but we headed on to our next stop.

The Giant's Causeway was...more rocks. Much more interesting though, being the columnar basalt brand of rocks. The rock formations yield a step like formations that go along with a load of legends linked to the place's title that you are welcome to check out on your own. Something about giants...

It was grey and miserable, but not nearly as raining. A few shots were taken, a few incidents of almost slipping and cracking my head open, and then we headed on.

Bushmills Distillery was next on the list. Unfortunately we arrived just after the last tour at 4:00pm (nothing in any Ireland seems to stay open late...except pubs...). Fortunately we weren't far from Port Rush and our hotel for the night, so we could come back. The rest of the evening was spent drying out...

The next morning was beautiful again, a disgusting sneer on the weather beast's face. We took a tour of Dunluce Castle ruin just near Port Rush on the edge of the coast and the views were incredible. It was a great tour with some very interesting history. We moved on to tour Bushmills Distillery and Mariah had opportunity to drink a few shots of whiskey at 10:00am. An experience that shouldn't be traded by anyone.

As we drove away and it slowly approached afternoon, the sun shifted to clouds once more and left no shinny sparkle to keep our interest. We were headed back to Dublin, and besides a drive through a few not-so-noteworthy towns and villages, we took the now long road back to Dublin with limited interest.

The moral of the story...rain sucks...

See all of the pictures.

The Black Taxi

Back in August we took a road trip up North. No, no. No arctic excursions. This was just a short trip up to the disjointed Northern chunk of Ireland. Two-plus hours in the car on the M1("M" is for motor-way, for those of you not hip to the jive) and we were in Belfast. Belfast, as a city, is just not really that interesting. Beyond a few notable bits of architecture, it feels largely like a big, grey, drab city that could likely be found most anywhere in the UK.

You might note that I said "UK" there and not Ireland. This is because Northern Ireland is actually part of the UK, a fact made painfully obvious by the taxis. Northern Ireland remained part of the UK as part of the agreement that established the Republic of Ireland in 1922. This was a highly disputed decision, with animosity on both sides, and ultimately lead to what the Irish refer to as "The Troubles" (the extended conflict between the IRA and the British government, along with an bonus religious conflict between the Catholics and Protestants.

Because of this, Belfast is riddled with big, black British-styled taxis, along with a load of fairly sensitive political history and turmoil. Generally speaking, people all over Ireland are not particularly comfortable talking about this dark period in history (hence the rather soft-cornered title they have adopted). Fortunately tourism trumps all social sensitivity and we were able to take what they call a "Black Taxi Tour" focused fully on The Troubles and their local impact on the people of Belfast.

In the case of a Black Taxi Tour, you essentially get to ride around in a taxi while the driver runs down all of the political history. Our taxi driver was brilliant! Although his presentation might be a little less refined than your average scripted tour, it was thorough and very informative. More conversational in its candor. We traveled to a handful of locations within the city where significant events occurred, including segregated Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods fenced off from each other where animosity and rivalry still exists, despite the IRA disarmament.

The most significant pieces of this puzzle were the murals found in the Protestant neighborhoods, painted on the sides of houses depicting anything from nationalist events in history to commemorations for someone who had lost their life in the conflict. The cab driver relayed to us, as we sat at the edge of a green looking out at all of the different murals, that the cabs had a sort of treaty with the neighborhoods allowing them to bring their tours through no matter their personal affiliations. For someone coming through these neighborhoods with the wrong ties, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, however, they could find themselves in a lot of trouble.

Suffice it to say, if you are ever in Belfast, we highly recommend a Black Taxi Tour.

See all of the pictures.

Visage of Venice

I had been meaning to write something about Venice and...well...a lot of things...but it seems Mariah has beat me to the punch. As it turns out, my punch is that of an eighty year old man crippled with arthritis, a broken shoulder, diphtheria, and a nauseating aversion to self motivation. Hers is more like Bruce Lee...

Venice is truly unique. It has it's faults - saturation of tourists (though not nearly as bad as Florence), high prices, and rude-ish restaurant patrons (though that whole service-with-a-smile thing, otherwise known as "quality customer service," often seems unique to the US) - but as I walked along the canals of Venice, every direction I looked there was a picture waiting to be captured. As you may know, traveling really isn't my thing, but it's definitely Mariah's thing (she has travel where I have iPhone), so photography has been one way of coping for me.

Venice was a gold mine in that regard.

The colors were so rich and vivid. I'm sure it helped a great deal that we had some beautiful weather while we were there (some of our only good weather while in Italy) that made those colors reach right out of the walls. The stucco, it's aged variations and the moisture saturated edges, give the buildings a muted and varied texture that brings life to the place.

The canals reflect light in unexpected ways and allow for another level of texture with every view. The "streets" are varied by bridges cutting across at seemingly random intervals, each of unique construction. The scale is low enough to allow the sun into most everywhere, though shoulder wide alleys branch off here and there linking to other streets like veins.

It's so easy to get lost, but hard to be lost for too long. The city just isn't that big, and as long as you don't have somewhere to be, your better to let it happen and enjoy discovering each random piece. Discovery is the best part, especially with a camera.

So, in Venice...get lost.

If you haven't already, see all of the pictures.

Strange Anomaly #23

If a pregnant woman needs to use the loo, she can ask a Garda for her hat and can go in it right on the street. Strange old law, but they have to comply. Why Karen knew this, I have no idea......

Summer Wrapping up

It has been a week of good weather so of course it was bound to be a busy week! I thought after such a busy weekend of the GAA match, it would be a quiet week, boy was I in for a surprise. Monday Bruno came to town just for the day since he had a return ticket from Dublin to Lisbon. We met up for dinner and then headed to the Stags Head for a few scoops with the Portuguese group before heading to bed.

On Tuesday I headed to Karen's for a homecooked meal with her flat mates and to tuck in for the night and watch the Rose of Tralee. Since the hot water was still out back at our gaff I was also looking forward to a hot shower! Just as the Rose of Tralee started (think Rose Festival Princess but instead of High Schools, one girl will represent their county in Ireland) I got a phone call from an old collegue from back home. I knew he was going to be in Dublin at some point that weekend and early week. I left Karen's and headed to town to meet up with Erik. It was great catching up with him. Since Tuesday in the office has become the new Friday, a few workmates were also at Whelan's so when I said goodbye to Erik, I headed downstairs to meet up with Tullia, Sean, Colin and Glenn. I headed home relatively early since Frank showed up and shots were being had. I was to have none of it, since it was a school night!

Then Wednesday Joao was having a few people over. When you come back from holiday it is customary to bring back some sweets and share with your co-workers. Instead, he brought back shed loads of wine and had a wine tasting night at his house! Good stuff for sure. I just laugh since we try to branch out to make new friends, but of course at all the parties we go to, they are all full of architects. We have a tendency to stick together since everyone else who is not an architect gets tired of talking about buildings and CAD programs and other fascinating aspects of our jobs.

Thursday was to be our girlie night since A|Wear (a clothes store like Meier and Frank) was putting on a fashion show of their autumn line of clothes. All of the ticket money went to the Cancer Society and you got a goodie bag. Who does not love a goodie bag! Tullia, Karen, Catherine, Claire and myself went to the Mansion House where I had previously done my "African modeling" a year before. Our goodie bags were full of little things, but most importantly a bottle of champagne. There was free champagne after the event and you got to browse the clothes and shop a little. We had all eaten on the way after picking up a burger and chips at the chipper, but Catherine was starving so I took the girls back to our place so Catherine could eat some of Ben's yummy stir fry. We drank all our free champagnes so it ended up being quite a cheap night out.

Friday the heads were a little sore, and I should have taken Niall's advice, 'Don't drink anything with pain in the name". And there is pain in champagne. Since the layoffs at work were beginning to be told just who they were, we had to head to the pubs. Electric Picnic is a huge outdoor weekend concert that most of Dublin went out to so most of the pubs were half empty. After some food at Smyth's in the beer garden since the weather was actually quite nice, we went into Whelan's since Karen wanted to dance! Claire and I got on the shots to get our dancing skills up to mental parr to keep up with all the young kids on the dance floor. We danced the night away and at 3 when they kicked us all out we were not ready to call it a night!

Colin had promises of toast, butter and whiskey at his house, so Karen, Claire and myself headed to Colin's new apartment. He made us all toast and tea while we perused his extensive book and comic book collection. I tried some of his random whiskeys as I read a 3D Superman comic. He quietly strummed on his guitar as us girls entertained ourselves reading various things. Karen played coo-coo clock with his kitchen doors which sort of looked like a coo-coo clock. As the sun began to break the skyline it was time to head home and call it a night. I would need all the weekend to recover after another full filled week having the craic with our friends!

Final Tag Dinner

To mark the end of the oOMPa loOMPa Tag Rugby season, we had a farewell dinner when we were not all hot and sweaty. Tigers were flowing all night long, so the criac was ninety. I think I scared them with how excited I can really get, especially when I found out Kevin and I are only a day apart. I am excited at the prospect of being 30, while I have a feeling he was not sharing my enthusiasm. We had a great dinner at Yamamori's, put on the red lipstick and headed into town. It had been an early morning so when your man handed me a warm beer, I took one sip of it, turned to Skinny, and said I was heading home. Gotta love living in town, so within 5 minutes I was at home tucking in under my duvet!

Lenny Kravitz Gig

Tullia and I find Lenny Kravitz absolutley ravishing so when he was coming through town for a concert, we could not miss him! Ania, Michelle and Marcella also had tickets so it was to be a girly affair. We headed to Spar to pick up some 7up and some vodka to make a concoction to drink on the bus. We felt like teenagers again, passing around the bottle getting hammered on the way to the gig. We were dressed head to toe in rain gear since it was just lashing rain as we headed out. The walk to Marlay Park we finished off our drink and the rain subsided, for a bit. We arrived just as the opening band, One Republic, were wrapping up, but we caught their best song. We missed the very first band, but none of us had heard of them, so not a biggie. We grabbed our burgers, chips and beer and found our spot for Alanis Morissette. I did not think I would know that much of her stuff, but I did know every song. As the beers flowed, as did our singing and throwing our arms around each other swaying to the music. It was like reliving a part of my teenage and early twenties since her hit songs a several years old now. How time flies! As her biggest hit came on, we ran for the loo since we knew everyone and there mom would soon be following us. Sure enough, no queue, but as we got out of the outhouses, there was an enormous queue! Just to be sure we had enough gargle, we got a few more before Lenny came on. It took ages for him to get ready but we were well lubricated by the time the lights started up. And Lenny came on. Hubba hubba. He is a true rockstar, show up late, tight leather pants, big dark sunglasses, high healed boots and a flowing half opened shirt in all black. No one else could really pull that off as sexy, but he can! He never did take off his shirt which was a huge let down, but he did take off the shades for a bit. He had long guitar solos and piano solos and even sung a few versus from Pink Floyd and the Beatles. All in all, it was a good show, especially since the rain was just a slow drizzle by the end of the night and we could not have cared less. Anna stayed behind with her mates, and the last of us 4 girls walked and sang hand in hind before hopping into a taxi during his finale, just to get a jump on getting out of there. Great night with the girls and sweet dreams of Lenny!

08/08/08 at 08:08:08

We got the bad news that they were letting go 32 people out of all our offices. SO what more to do then go out on the rip. Claire had just told me that she was going to be let go, and no one else knew, so much hugging of Seanie was to be had but could not tell why. He is part of my 'family' here and would not know what to do with out my 'little sister' Karen and 'big brother' Sean. I ended up leaving early since I had a busy day ahead of me on Friday (1am is being early on a Thrusday, phhhsaaaa). The next night the 4-O'clock girls* went out on the lash with Sean again and this time we had Catherine and Colin along for the ride just to drown more of our sorrows. I had to call it an early night and headed back to Ranelagh for the last time with Karen since the next morning we were moving into the next place. Where did we end up but Hogans and Whelans!

*Side note: Karen, Claire and myself are called the 4-O'Clock girls by the lads since we promptly go for our tea break right at 4. And since we are three peas to a pod, we usually are always down there together. And if we can nic a few Hob Nobs or have Colin nip across to the shop and pick up some TimTams to dunk into our tea, we are happy bunnies. YUMMMY!

Prague in a Weekend

Lucy and I love to travel which is why we are living in Europe. So one night we got to talking with Emma and we decided we had to get away for a weekend, and what better place than Prague! We took a half day on Friday and left for the airport together. Since most of the girls still work with Ben we met at their work so we could all go together; Ben, Lucy, Anna and Emma. Lorna is living in Germany so she took the train to meet us there. We got to our apartment that we rented for the weekend to drop off our stuff before heading out to adventure the town. The apartment that Lucy arranged was right near the heart of town, had several rooms, was uber modern and comfortable. It had a full kitchen so we had a few snacks and drinkypoos at the apartment before heading to dinner. Everything was closing down early so we had to really search for a restaurant. We found a quiet little Italian place for some pizza since the local places were all closed up. It was drizzling rain, but was still quite warm as we strolled into the heart of town to see the lights on all the buildings. The Old Town Square was buzzing with tourists and locals alike. Týn Cathedral was eerie and dominated the night sky but was breathtaking, definitely something straight off a postcard. We called it an early night, since the next day was to be jammed packed full of things to do and see.

We made a yummy breakfast, Anna is great at making the eggs, so we had fully tummies before heading out. I was in charge of the map and the what to do since Lucy took care of the arrangements. We headed towards the River Vltava to see the river front and head towards the old medieval castle which is the largest in the world. We winded up narrow streets and many steps to make it up to Prague Castle. Even within the city walls of the castle, you wound your way up to the top. We never made it into the cathedral since the queue was over an hour long and in 80+ degree heat and humidity we were to have none of that. We had to do the tour to get into the old palace and through the Vladislav Hall to see the great views of the city. The gardens were well manicured, so much in fact, that is was impossible to find a bit of grass just to have a little rest on. As we made our way back down, we went down into the torture chambers of the prison cells. Just creepy what people used to do to each other. The heavy air with so many people packed into such a small space made it all the more creepy and ominous. We just wanted to escape out the small winding staircase. One of the few museums we popped into were the old armour and weapons. Old suits of armour are just interesting. Someday I will wear one and try to lift a two handed sword! We stopped for some lunch in a great outdoor cafe, and just as we had ordered, there was a torrential downpour that lasted for a few hours. We sought refuge under an awning, but we were quite wet. It was a great meal, and by the time we left it was clear again. I am starting to notice a trend though, we go away from Ireland and it lashes from the heavens where we are on holiday, but is nice back home. Go figure.

We meandered our way back to the hotel across the Charles Bridge. All of the little kiosks and carts setting various trinkets and whatnots were lined all along the bridge and packed with people. As we got to our side of the river we saw where our nightly destination was to be, a 5 storey nightclub. We changed into our clubbing clothes and got a bite to eat. Since it was so late again, it was difficult to find food, but we managed. No drinking on an empty tummy for me. We got into the club that was rumored to have 80's music and we just kept climbing the stairs until we found the right floor, the 4th! We danced the night away with the lit from below floor. Reminiscent of the 70's disco floors. We did try out the other floor for a while, Techno, pop, hip hop, but after the 80's turned to strange salsa music we went to the ground floor for some gangster rap. We all had a laugh before calling it a night around 4ish.

Sunday we did the same breakfast routine and packed up all our stuff to leave at the front desk so we could still sightsee and not have to drag our stuff all around town. We crossed over the Saint Charles bridge to the cog railroad. This led us up to Petřínská rozhledna, an observation tower on Petřín hill, which resembles the Eiffel Tower. We climbed up to the top to get the full city views. It was quite warm as well, so we had to stop for ice cream in the grass. We went through the Mirror Maze, and through the mirror fun hall. We had fun laughing at each others reflections. We decided to do the scenic walk down before grabbing a bite to eat. I had to try some of the Prague beer since I heard it was so good. It was, but the Pacific NW still has it beat. It was about time to make our way back to the city since we were running out of time. We stopped at the Old Town Square and the Astronomical Clock was set to go off just as we were passing by. Good timing. Anna had been to Prague before, but it was under renovation when she was last there, and was really looking forward to seeing it. It was not as great as the Glockenspiel in Munich by any stretch of the imagination, but it was cute. We wandered through the town to see the old synagogue and burial grounds. We did not do the tour since again, the queue was long and we just did not have the time. Instead we found a great little cafe off the beaten path that was a cheap as chips as everyone had said Prague was. We had biscuits, teas, coffees, juices and waters for the five of us, and hung out for hours just bantering and enjoying the sunshine all for just under 10 Euro for all of us. We moseyed back to the hotel where the taxi met us to head back to the airport. It was a quick weekend away, but we saw most of what Prague had to offer. Still is amazing to me that I can go away to a completely different country for a weekend away for super cheap!

The Bunny Dance and Much More

Sadly Catherine and Philip were let go and Thorston was moving back to Germany so for their final night, they went to dinner with their team, and we decided to join them after wards at Hogans. With their bosses there as well as most of our co-workers we did not feel to guilty being out on a Thursday night. We had a good bit of craic there and many Jeager shots with Thorston since he is a mad yoke for lovin those and I was the only one convinced it would be a good idea to join in. Before leaving the office that day Sean caught a photo of Thorston hugging Karen and it was so cute since he is 6'-7" and she is 5'-5" that even on her tippy toes and him bending way over he was still much taller when she hugged him goodbye.

When they kicked everyone out at half twelve, we headed to Bruxelles since they serve until late. By this time our group went from 30 or so people down to about 12. Franchesca and Tullia and I proceeded to have about an hour long conversation in Spanish since Sean's pick up line (Muy bonita, deseas sexo?) came up and I found out Fran had lived in Spain. See Mom, my Spanish classes have paid off, I can hold conversations and teach guys some sleazy pick up lines! We were all thrown out of there at 2:30 and headed up Grafton Street where all the street performers are. Tom paid your man on the street a few quid and he let him play a few songs. As long as the group of us kept putting money in the guitar case, we could keep playing. Glenn also too a turn on playing the guitar. Tullia was mad about the videos with her camera but mostly you heard her and I singing "choobie, choobie" along with the lyrics which is a Tulliaism. She also caught me dancing on video being silly which is where the "bunny dance" was born and is now frequently requested at the pub. By 4:30 we headed to the cabs after many songs so we could get some sleep before Friday morning. At least all of us were miserable together, because misery loves company! Even the bosses were tired! Those videos are now infamous and the head boss man even got a kick out of watching me show off the dance moves in the office over lunch. Fun to be had by all even during the sad times. When you cannot cry just laugh or laugh so hard you cry.

End of the Oompa Loompa Season

We ended our season with a perfect record...... we LOST every match!

But we had fun doing it. A sprained finger, bruised toes and a few scrapes were to be expected out of me since I am so competitive. Tag rugby is much more of a contact sport then I thought given that it is co-ed. There is a lot of force needed to pull those tags off the special made shorts. I missed the first three matches, but made it to everyone after that. Kevin and Tom have played their whole lives and they did great to help us all learn the game. Ruthie and Catherine were our coaches and did an amazing job having wash all the shorts each week, get our jerseys made up for us (I was called Bambi - see earlier posts to see why that is my nickname) and cutting up orange halves for us to have at half time. By the end of the season we were good at the hand off technique from the two lads to us girls. This move is very important since girl tries are worth 4 points and guy tries are only worth 1. I ended the season with 3 tries in all! During the last match (which we nearly won) I did a glorious three turn somersault right in front of John (main boss man) and landed at his feet after the opposing team pushed me while pulling off my tag. The look of horror on his face that I had hurt myself was priceless but I bounced up, shook my head, laughed it off and ran back onto the pitch for another go. They were amazed. With enough adrenaline you never feel the bumps and busies until later anyway.

The clubhouse served burgers so after the match you could go in, grab a pint, sit down with your burger and rehash the game highlights with the team. After our final match we voted and gave out prizes to the most competitive, best girl, best boy, best tagger, best scorer and whimpiest injury. I got none of them, but I came in close second for both best girl and most competitive. Hehehe! My team knows me. Now if i could only have gotten them to all agree which one I was better at. However, it had to be said that the greatest moment of the game was when a novice player, Tullia, scored her first try early in the first half of our last game. In what was a stunning piece of play she caught the ball in full stride thrown, skillfully as always, by our best boy billy whiz (Kevin) and heroically threw herself over the line to put us on the scoreboard first! She is always so full of energy that it is great to watch her play. Almost every game was ended with a 'victory' dance just for having gotten out there and doing it, and have fun.

Luckily our season also had no rain at any of our matches. Karen came to be our cheerleader and Catherine even brought her pompoms for her to cheer with. I taught them some of my cheer leading moves since in High School all my friends did it. I was amazed at how many cheers I remembered. Although most of the team were beginners, we learned so much and improved tenfold over the past several months. I look forward to playing next year for sure since we will all know what we are doing on the pitch!

Temple Bar Here We Come!!!

We have moved out of our sleepy little village of Ranelagh into the heart of it all. Temple Bar! We have a great one bed apaapartment now that has a full tub this time and is not off of the bedroom. We actually have room for guests to come over! I do miss our little place since my commute went from 20-25 minutes to 35-40 with the LUAS or 55-60 walking the whole way. It is usually nice in the mornings and since Tullia and I are now neighbors, we have been walking into to work nearly every morning and then walking home. Ben's commute gets a little longer, but when his office finishes their new buildng, he will be just minutes away from work. We have a cute little European deck that is about 4" deep that is great to get fresh air in. There are sliding doors between the bedroom and the living room which makes the whole place seem much bigger. I can now pace while I talk on the phone and make myself dizzy walking in circles. Well maybe if we get better reception since when I walk away from the windows we lose connection. The church bells of Christ Church sound lovely on Sunday morning, they sort of remind me of a Police song.... that I just cannot put my finger on. No sleeping in on Sundays for us!

Now if we could only get hot water into our building we will be sorted. 4-6 weeks without hot water or heating is ridiculous and makes for a long trek to the gym to take a shower. A cold shower in the morning certainly wakes you up, and makes me look forward to warming up on my 3 mile walk to work. We now have more room for guests and hopefully when my folks get here we will even have hot water for them!