My travels started off on a good note with a TSA man questioning me about some abnormally massive toenail clippers that resembled a shank at the bottom of my carry on. I don't know where they came from. But he did not find it funny when I said there must be a toenail elf running around the airport. After me and the TSA guy were really hitting it off I walked away wondering if I'd ever see him again and THANK GOD I left my laptop at the security check point and almost missed my international flight for us to be reunited once again.
Im on the flight and everyone's pumped for Paul Blart Mall-Cop 2 but I thought I'd be rebellious and watch Inside Out. I started getting uncomfortable when the couple next to me was watching me cry. I fell asleep listening to United Airlines top 40 station only to realize when I woke up I had been listening to Can't Feel My Face on repeat for at least two hours. For some reason this always seems to happen to me.
Get to Ireland lookin like a pimp with pasta sauce on my dress and a birds nest for hair. Hop on some bus because you know I ain't payin for a taxi then get off at Ballsbridge where people either bring their dog testicles and tape them to the bridge or just watch the sailboats go by. Arrive at IPA and have my first cup of Irish tea with a new friend Kathleen. We share a taxi to our different home stays. During the ride the taxi driver kept the conversations light talking about gun violence, teen pregnancy, and police brutality.
I arrive at my new home and it's real cute. But everything got 100 times better when I saw my longtime boyfriend Graham, who is now my roommate. I was supposed to email someone to make that happen but I guess a lil fate and hailing satan was all I needed. My new host mom is named Maeve and she's like many old irish women incredibly sweet, loving, very family oriented, and just a tad bit racist.
First impressions are everything. Thats why on the second day of classes I poured scolding hot tea on myself while saying good morning to my Irish Parliamentary program director, Michael. I came on a bit too strong and apparently "gave him a fright". But I think the third degree burns on my thighs are foxy.
Cookies are called biscuits, and biscuits are called scones. Still unsure of the word for scones.
I've been drinking a lot. I have a significant beer belly which I'm hoping is a girl.
Irish people have extremely large nostrils.
I've met some awesome new friends from aaaaall over..California. I'm surrounded by very smart Political Science majors and I feel like as a film major I'm really gonna shine at my Internship with the Irish Government at Parliament. All of my professors so far have questioned why I did this program and I really hope I haven't given it away that I'm actually an undercover representative for Agent Cody Banks.
9/10/15
pix???
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