Undesireable #1

I recently read that the Masters Degree is the new Bachelors Degree, that anything less won't make the cut. A lovely little factoid, isn't it? Something to mull over while you can't sleep after the stress and anxiety has kicked in.

I am a girl that has always sworn by my New York driver's license, that I will never leave the city, that I couldn't live outside of the five boroughs. And yet I have found that I am now in a desperate need for a change of pace. I need a break. If I could, I would just pack my bags and move back to Europe - live for a while in a completely different place, get my feet wet again.

I have never seriously considered doing something other than writing since I started college. Not ever. Not in a million years. And now that I am out of school, now that I am ready to put my degree to work, the only thing that I can think to do is anything but. I am now kicking myself for not being practical, for not getting that degree in International Affairs or Politics. Maybe then I'd have a job doing something that matters. Maybe then I would be making a difference. Maybe then I would be changing someone's life.

Maybe I'm just losing it.

E

Leaving on a Jet Plane

A Writer-Friend of mine recently pointed out the fact that I never stay in one place for very long, that I am always traveling and moving, changing things up and looking for a new start. However, the reality of this didn't really set in with me until today.

Being unemployed has given me the gift of travel. In a way, I am living the New Yorker's dream: I spend my waking days in the city and my weekends on various trips out to the "country" - as one friend put it. I have been back in Brooklyn for three hours after going down to Virginia to surprise my dad for Father's Day and am already re-packing my bags for a woodsy camping adventure at Hollywood Club up in the Adirondacks. Three weeks after that, I am jetting off to San Francisco and Napa for a week, then heading back to Virginia with some friends, and then possibly spending a few days in the Poconos.

But is all of this for the best?

I am, without a doubt, having a blast on all of my trips, whether it's going to the races or to a party in Rhode Island, but I am then - in turn - spending a considerable amount of time away from the work place. I am writing less, applying for jobs less, looking for apartments less. Is a balance of all of this possible, the reality and the play?

-E

Read My Rights, TSA

As a frequent flyer who has now been frequently violated by TSA, I feel like I should buy these to at least give them a little run for their money. Hey, who knows, maybe I'll get a chuckle or two in the process.

-E

Galway / Inis Oírr, Ireland

All I’ll say, is that if I ever decide to move to Ireland permanently, the West Coast is where you’ll find me.

We spent all of Saturday walking around the town of Galway, where we basically took a nap on the river, had a few pints, and watched a rugby match. It was basically the start to one of the most relaxing weekends of my life.

We spent the night and all of today on Inis Oírr -- the smallest of the Aran Islands, population 250. That’s right -- 250. The 12 of us gave the town a 5% population increase. There is one restaurant (Tigh Ruairí), two pubs, one hostel, one hotel, one ferry, and one plane. And cows. And a beach. And sheep. And castles. And horse rides.

Apparently we had the best weather that the island has seen all year. I have a tan and I love it. Best part? I was leaving the pub last night and as I said good-night, the bartender said: “Beware the bean saoi.” Best Part? He was being serious. 

OH. And when we were labeling everyone’s spirit animals, I was lovingly dubbed (by Patrick) as ... Mother Duck


Classic Quotes: "No, I don't believe in ghosts, but I know they're there." - Kathleen, a resident, upon being asked if she believed in the island's mystical horse lore and the existence of banshees. 

-E

This Week In Review

So, the week is almost at an end so I thought I’d do my best to fill the void with an update.

Sunday:
We made friends with random people in our hostel -- aka 3 guys from Sri Lanka, a guy from Namibia, and then a Parisian from Gambon who confessed his love for me after about 10 minutes. His name was Barton and he looked like Djimon Hounsou.

Monday:

The Huntarian Museum at the University of Glasgow was closed for the 3rd day in a row, so Jaime and I wandered around the city for the entire day. Found these really awesome bridges and ended up wandering through the equivalent of Scottish New Jersey on the North Side of the city. It was pretty epic. There is photo documentation. Then we saw A Single Man and I fell in love. It was wonderful.

Tuesday:

We took a cab to Glasgow airport at 0500, only to arrive at 5:30 and learn that we were in fact at the wrong airport (no one bothered to correct us). So we ended up taking a £100 cab ride to the correct airport an hour away and luckily got there just before the gate closed. Then after security they weighed our bags (which has never happened before) and we ended up having to pay £35 each for carry-ons that the flight crew didn’t even check. We finally got back to our flat in Dublin around 0900, just in time for Jaime to get to class. Thus ... the actual day began.

Went to lunch at Chorus, where we ran out of time so Sirus let us take our plates and silverware to class and then bring it back. It was pretty great. Kerry and I just walked in to Susanne’s class with these massive plates of omelets and chips ... people were jealous and we were full. In class I had to suffer the torment that was the movie Adam and Paul, and I’m pretty sure I am the only person that hated it with a burning passion. In a word: boring. I just wrote a review on it, so I might share my thoughts in a little bit, have no fear.

Then around 0930 Steven and Kristen finally got here (apparently the immigration guys looked me up in the computer to varify that they were staying with me and that I was a valid temporary citizen -- WEIRD) and we went to grab a pint over at Farrington’s. The music was great, but not gonna lie, we were dead. The day felt like a week.

Wednesday:

Fintan O’Toole came and spoke to us. It was pretty epic. I’ll be honest though, since he’s a theatre critic and all I definitely thought he was going to be talking to us about, you know, Irish theatre, but the entire thing ended up being about post-Celtic Tiger Ireland. It was incredibly interesting, actually, and I really want to read his new book now. After class Steven and I skyped into our first Orientation Meeting back at Pratt and were pretty amused. It was a fun time, seeing people and thinking about all the stress that awaits us back in the states. Joy.

Thursday:
Oh, today. Did I mention that the first draft of my full length play is due in less than 24 hours? Fun, right? Not. Lies. All lies. I’ve been teetering page 56 for the past week and can’t seem to stretch things out any further so far. It’s awesome. So, instead, I am watching Eraser with Kristen and Steven, drinking my third cappuccino of the day, and eagerly awaiting my take-away from Queen of Tarts.

Tonight is going to be a looooooong night.

-E

I've decided, Glasgow isn't real.

 

This place is seriously surreal in the fullest extent. I haven’t quite been able to pin-point how to describe it yet. It’s sort of like a suburb with a City Centre, in a way. Regardless, I’m pretty sure we have figured out our way around in under 24 hours.

All in all ... hostel rankings: 3 out of 3 ain’t bad. I haven’t had one of those terrible experiences that people warn you about, and I can’t say that I’m complaining. I’ve met a lot of Australians, a Russian, an Argentinian, some Finnish chicks, and right now we’re staying with 2 girls from Sweden and 2 guys from Eastern Europe. Beds aren’t bad, the places have been clean, and the people have been nice.

As far as actual Glasgow goes, I’m loving it. It’s absolutely nothing like Edinburgh because it is basically devoid of tourists. Just normal people living their lives.

The University of Glasgow is pretty epic. We accidentally almost crashed a wedding with bagpipes. It was epic.

The Museum and Gallery there is also pretty strange/surreal/fun/educational. It’s designed for kids, in a way, and basically a great time to explore. They have Dali’s Christ there, and I has forgotten just how much I love that painting, let alone all of his other work. A man took a picture of it with a flash and it took everything in me to not punch him in the throat. That’s just not kosher.

We walked all up and through the Glasgow School of the Arts and, being an affiliate of ours, felt very much like Pratt. It was sort of off the beaten path and not terribly aesthetically pleasing. A typical starving artist’s school.

The necropolis is really amazing, interwebs, and I’ll post some pictures of it, soon. To put it into a perspective of wonder: it’s right behind St. Mungo’s Royal Infirmiry. HP inspiration, anyone? I think so.

I’m also going to be posting a bunch of pictures in general ... eventually ... whenever I get the time. So keep your eyes peeled.

-E

Oh, PS ... I also am pretty sure that I sprained my foot/ankle in Edinburgh.

Leave it to me.

Fun times.

River City.

A Single Man

“A few times in my life I've had moments of absolute clarity, when for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realize that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be.”

I honestly can’t think of one thing that I didn’t enjoy about A Single Man.

This was, hands down, one of the best films I have seen in such a long time. I literally just left the Glasgow Film Theatre and can’t get it out of my head. I feel the need to state the obvious: it was beautiful. No, not beautiful. Gorgeous.Tom Ford really hit one out of the ballpark with his directorial debut, and all I’ve got to say is that I want him to put down the sewing machine for a while and stay behind a camera.

Ford really applied the theory of, “the only thing hotter than sex is not having sex,” because this was by far so sexually filled, and yet so stoic that the tension was simply perfect. The same went with the dialog. Literally, not one single line or image was expendable. Everything meant something, everything was necessary, and everything was the epitome of aesthetically pleasing. The ending was also a great combination of happy/sad, positive/negative. Such a myriad of emotions. It tells you everything and nothing. So many layers and just a really wonderful film.

-E

Harry Potter was born here!

So, dear interwebs, I have finally arrived as a writer.

I am sitting in The Elephant House on George IV Bridge, writing in the very place where JK Rowling wrote so many years ago.

It’s amazeballz, and they make a delicious cappuccino. Just an FYI if you’re ever in Edinburgh. It’s pretty delish.

-E

I'm Married!!!

His name is Ewan and just signed a 6 year contract with the British Navy. He’s really brilliant, and a bar tender/scotch connoisseur. We drank Lagavuelin and Laphroig all night. I can’t wait for everyone to meet him! He’s going to commute back and forth between Dublin and Edinburgh, and then we’ll take it from there when I go back to New York, if I even do.

I know it’s all a shock, but I’m really really happy! He’s coming along with me and Jaime to Glasgow this weekend and we’re just having lots of fun.

APRIL FOOLS ...

I know ... via the internet, it’s pretty lame, but I figured it was still worth a shot. Now, on to the real updates...

Oh Edinburgh ... you and your snow. Yes interwebs, you’ve read me correctly. Jaime and I landed in the lowlands of Scotland yesterday and were greeted with constant snowfall for the entire day. Logically, 3 days after Ireland declares their summer, we start to freeze.

Edinburgh Castle is basically one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, in snow and (eventually) sun. Between the history of the buildings and the War Museum, I could have been lost in there for hours. ALSO, the crown jewels didn’t hurt, either.

The Queen’s Palace is pretty swanky, too... Lots of fabrics, lots of draperies, lots of paintings, LOTS of class. I kinda sorta want to move in there now. The freaking backyard bumps up against mountains. MOUNTAINS. COVERED IN SNOW.

As far as the hostel goes, it’s really not bad (knock on wood). It’s a major first for me, and it basically just feels like summer camp. But time will be the judge ... hostel two of three starts tomorrow and it’s a mixed 12 bed share. Joy.

I did, however, actually meet a guy named Ewan. And we did, in fact, drink Lagavuelin and Laphroig together. But I was also in a Scotch Distillery and he was also a bar tender. He is actually joining the Navy though, so that wasn’t a fool.

Jaime and I also made friends with some guy who’s name I can’t pronounce from Moscow ... he’s a fashion student in London here on holiday. It was pretty great. We’re facebook friends. And then there was Marco from Argentina who is working in economics in Madrid. He couldn’t understand my question “Where in Argentina are you from?” and I’m pretty sure he thought I was an idiot because he just kept explaining the geography of South America on a whole. I might be blonde, but I’m not dumb.

Until later, probably Glasgow...

-E

No Parlo Italiano!

It’s official -- I’m back in Dubsville, aka Dublin!!

If you didn’t know, interwebs, I’ve just spent the past week in the loverly city that is Roma, Italia and it was basically amazing. I think I’m officially obsessed with the Bernini Bridge (no, I don’t actually know the real name) and Santa Maria dia lo Muerto (once again, I don’t actually know the real name, soOo I made one up that sounds about right)

In a brief (very brief) nutshell, Santa Maria’s was absolutely incredible, and I could have spent hours in the very tiny room that is the crypt. Lots and lots of bones. Enough said.

Fabulosity? I think so.

Right up my alley? I think so.

Unfortunately, you’re going to get short changed here, interwebs, because I am knackered and just finally got home from a 3 hour flight filled with CRAZY Italian teenagers getting ready for St. Patrick’s Day. They were rude, they didn’t even try to speak English, and they had green hair. That is not a good/pleasant/fun/relaxing combination.

-E

Lies Susanne Told Me Number 317: “Students always come back from holiday with lovely tans.”

Alice in Wonderland

So, as mentioned before ... Elizabeth and I went and saw Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland on opening night at the Odeon at Hyde Park, and I have to say that I truly enjoyed it. I even think that it could be completely tolerable for all of those Tim Burton haters (aka people who will never make sense to me) out there (you know who you are).

The plot is familiar and nothing really special ... as should be expected in a sudo-remake. But the visual effects are just brilliant.

It goes without question that the costumes were absolutely, without a doubt, beautiful beyond belief. I immediately fell in love with the aesthetic of it all.

Be warned (as I was not) that this is more like a sequel to Alice in Wonderland, rather than a remaking. I’m glad that they made a point of The Red Queen’s ridiculously large head, and it was a plot point rather than just some strange visual oddity (which it also was). I loved Anne Hathaway as the completely air-headed White Queen, because I’m pretty sure I never once saw her hand by her side. Note: the poster shown to the right.

Johnny Depp’s accent kept changing ... that was my only main bothersome thing. I’m fairly certain it was intensional because the switches were incredibly transparent, but I would have liked a more concrete reason for the changes. One minute he had a British lisp and the next he had a deep Scottish growl.

And, this doesn’t give anything away, interwebs, but there is a line in the beginning where a point is made of Alice’s age that goes something like: “You’re almost 20, Alice. That face won’t last forever.” ... I am turning 22 this year. This is not ok. Silly cinema, tricks are for kids.

I’d suggest it, if only for the visual genius.

And I want that cat.

-E

Come out of the cupboard, all you boys and girls!

Woohoo!

Today ends my first international trip while living in the wonderful world that is Dublin!

Jaime and I basically flew in to London for a long weekend to kick-off our Spring Break, and I stayed with Elizabeth at her flat in Elephant & Castle (lovingly dubbed the Harlem of England).

I think I really lucked out with having already been to London earlier this year, because I didn’t feel rushed to do anything/see anything, so I was just really free to take my time and wander about. Of course, we did Westminster Abbey (one of my favs!) and St. Paul’s -- which is absolutely stunning. The last time I was there, I didn’t climb up to the top, so on Thursday, Elizabeth and I decided to brave it. And let me tell you, interwebs, I do not deal well with tiny, enclosed spaces + heights + ladder-esque iron stairs. BUT it was absolutely worth it. The few of the city was just breath taking, probably better than what you can get on the Eye. I’m pretty sure we would have stayed up there forever if allowed.

And then, interwebs, I had a first in my life ... we went to a warehouse-esque club down under the tunnels, and, while not my scene in the least, I had a major blast! It was great just dancing and listening to the DJ/band (though the DJ showed the band up time and time again) and hanging out around a totally different culture.

Friday we sort of wandered around the Hyde Park and just hung out, which was both relaxing and a lot of fun. Got to see the man of the hour -- my bffbesty Peter Pan! I don’t care how small/unimpressive he seems in comparison to the hype -- I think I will always love him.

We ended the night but going to see Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland 3D since it was opening night and it just seemed fitting. That will get it’s own post because it needs it’s own space to just be.

Then today, meaning Saturday, we went and did the best shopping. No one can knock the markets in London. I mean no one. As much as I love Portobello Road, after today, I’m pretty sure that the Camden Stable Markets take the cake (picture the bonding scene between Amanda Bynes and Collin Firth in What A Girl Wants).

Interwebs, you should use your Google powers and explore the store Cyberdog, because it is probably the most miraculous/amazeballz thing that I have ever experienced. EVER. It had enough black-lights to power all of Brooklyn’s raves. I bought skull key-rings. Nuff said.

Then the time to take my leave eventually arrived, and I found myself bonding with a woman named Colette on my flight. Lovely woman, really. Born and raised in West London, just split from her manfriend of 5 years. She was a doll, actually, taking her first holiday since the split to clear her head. I hope she has a great time, because she really seemed to need it.

And now, alas, I am home. In my flat. Alone.

Jaime is still in London, then off to Paris. Emma is back in Chicago, recovering from mono. And Nick doesn’t fly in until tomorrow night. I guess this means I can have my own NSYNC dance party without shame? I think so.

Bye, bye, bye!

-E

Lies Susanne Told Me Number 47: “You can take a bus from the airport to city centre at any time for only E6.”

Belfast, Baby!

Not gonna lie, interwebs, all of the recent dissident IRA activity in the North made me a little anxious/nervous/excited for our trip to the UK today.

The morning started early. Very early. And I think I’ve decided that one of the worst feelings is walking past a good quality cafe that’s closed, only to buy shitty coffee at a Centra and walk back to find the good quality cafe is finally open. That’s right, interwebs -- we had to be on our bus at 8:00AM. AM. That is not kosher.

The ride was good in that we all slept, and I had a moment where I felt like the psycho in Six Shooter and just randomly burst out “SHEEP” in the middle of conversation.

First things first, we went on this epically long mural tour through the Catholic side, then the Protestant side. Not gonna lie, I found it all amazingly fascinating, but it was freaking freezing (there was still snow on the mountains) and wouldn’t have minded staying on the bus. But nooooo ... you get the real experience when you can’t feel your face in the wind.

Then we went to the Transport Museum which was pretty sick because, ya know, the Titanic was made in Belfast. AND there were trains. Lots and lots of trains! We got to play and run around and feel like boxcar children and it was basically amazeballz ... and inside.

Next came lunch in a pub and the subsequent Ireland-England rugby match (of which I only watched the last 13 minutes). In lue of the game, Jaime, Emma, Kerry, Luca, John and I went walking through the City Centre and rode the FERRIS WHEEL! That’s right -- Belfast has a ferris wheel inspired by the London Eye (which is also amazeballz). And when I say we all went, I mean Kerry, Emma, Luca and I went because John and Jaime were scared. To put it bluntly, it was stunning. To see a city with such visible barriers and divides were really fascinating. It’s nothing like Dublin or any other place I’ve been.


On a heavier note: Belfast is definitely not the city I was expecting it to be. Honestly, it didn't feel like must of a city. Similarly to how Pyongyang is supposedly a "fake city," there is something about Belfast that just didn't feel real. City Centre was alive and kicking, like Grafton Street or O'Connell, but as soon as you walked out of that zone, we were met with artillery lines, a mortar wall, and military police. It's as if the entire city is all a charade.

Top Moment --

(in a Belfast pub)
John: Well maybe one day there will be a unified Ireland.

Me: I’m pretty sure you don’t want to say that here. Just a thought.

So, until the next time I go to a still politically unstable country/province/state ...

-E

Dun Laoghaire, Ireland

So once again, we took an adventure out side of City Centre and it was well worth it! Kerry, Jaime, Emma and I decided to hit up the lovely sea side town of Dun Laughaire (pronounced Dun Leary) and it was again, just amazing. We’ve decided that we found the Irish version of the Parthenon along the water’s edge, and found the most incredible artisan/food market that I’ve ever seen.

I’ve also decided that mingling with the locals is basically the best thing ever.

-E

Bray, Ireland

So Luca, John, Dan, Kerry, Emma, Jaime and I decided to take our first adventure out of lovely City Centre (An Lar, as it is in Irish) and took the DART about 45 minutes to this absolutely beautiful town called Bray.

Susanne (our Director) told us in a paraphrase that there were ice cream parlors, lots of amusements, and a big hill with a cross at the top. And, in our typical fashion, we didn’t hit a single one of those things. We got into town late in the afternoon, and being a sea side town, not a whole lot of anything was open. We never got ice cream, the amusements were closed, and we only managed to get half way up the hill. BUT - it was still absolutely incredible. I don’t think that I have ever seen a view like that, of the cliffs on the water with such a small town in the distance.

I think it’s finally hitting me that I’m definitely not in New York any more.

-E

Day 1: Dublin!

This makes it official. My status as a New Yorker is officially on hold. Good-bye G train, how I will (won’t) miss you!

So ... I haven’t slept in going on 48 hours, and I really don’t care because I’M IN DUBLIN!

First amazing thing about Ireland: the cabbies actually talk to you! There’s none of that New York “sorry, I don’t speak English,” crap. It’s all conversation filled.

My goal is to stay awake all day ... it’s a fat chance but worth a shot. Orientation starts this afternoon - joy.

-E