Ireland. Day 2

it’s noon and a crisp beautiful late summer day in Dublin. Last night, Anne and I had an early dinner that finished at 7:30. We were exhausted. In an attempt to fend off the jet lag that was sure to ruin the rest of our trip, we agreed to have “one more pint” at a pub called O’Donagues. By 8:30 we were practically catatonic from sleep deprivation. My cell phone rang. It was Anne’s oldest friend Rebecca, calling to tell us that she had a new baby daughter. The pub’s walls were lined with dollar bills signed by people from all over the world. We commemorated the new baby with her own dollar bill on the wall in Ireland.

That fucking dollar bill. If not for that dollar bill, I’d probably be sitting outside by the river Liffey enjoying the day. But that stupid dollar prompted a conversation with a group of Irish lasses in the pub. They were instant best friends with Anne and tolerated me. 5 hours later, we are taking photos in a rickshaw outside of a funeral home. The details get hazy because Anne got into a drink buying competition with all of Ireland (everyone lost) and the lasses decided their drink of choice would be apple pucker. Sweet. Get it? Because I was being sarcastic about enjoying their drink choice, but it is also a drink that is literally sweet. Anyway, if you ever get the chance, make sure that you hear an Irish person talk about the movie super bad so that they say “mclovin” a lot. It got me every time.

Unofficial trip tally:

Pints of Guinness – 5-13 (est.)
Apple pucker shots – 3
Commemorative photo key chains purchased, with Pictures of me, anne, and Irish people we’ll never see again – 1
Money spent on keychains, in USD – $17

Ireland live blog. Day 1

Ahoy mateys from Ireland. We arrived with only a few small hiccups along the way. And by small, I mean that Anne cause a minor national Security scare at the airport. My in-laws, who still have family in Ireland, kindly packed a gift bag filled with wrapped presents for us to deliver to the homeland. Anne delicately placed the bag through the x-ray machine, which prompted the TSA agent to say, “uh, we need a bag check.”. No big deal, right? Well, here was Anne’s reaction – and this is a verbatim quote – “Oh No! It must be something in the present. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS IN THERE. Somebody gave it to me to bring on the flight.” 20 minutes, an anal probe, and a few armed guards later, we were safely through security. Luckily, the in-laws had only packed an 8 ounce bottle of a mysterious bath-enhancing liquid.

Other than that minor breach of airport security, and a few moments of sheer panic when I temporarily forgot which side of the road I was supposed to drive on, everything has been great. We are checked in to our hotel in downtown Dublin and getting ready to attack the day.

A brief running total of where things stand:

Guiness pints – 1
Right turns – 4 (only one of which caused a panic attack)
Percent of clothing I packed that was appropriate for this weather – 15%
national security scares – 1
Heated towel racks in the hotel room – 1 (baller)

Ireland Part II Part I

Well, we’re off to Ireland after a slight hiccup thanks to hurricane Irene.  Speaking of which, did you know that you can’t spell Ireland without Irene?  I read that somewhere.

In addition to packing everything I own that’s green, I’ve been practicing some of the colloquialisms of the country.  Here are some of the things that I have been advised to say all the time when I’m in Ireland: 

– Wow, the Guinness really does taste different over here.

– Hi, I’m looking for Rory McIlroy.

– OMG!  There’s a flock of sheep crossing the road.

– Ahoy Matey

– Do you know Bono?  

– Huh?  I guess people don’t really wear kilts here.

If they have the internet over there, I’ll be live blogging everything we do.  In all seriousness though, I’d really like to play a round of golf with Rory.  Can anyone get that set up?