I am so full, but I’m hiking so I allow myself eggs and black pudding and muesli before heading out into the rainy wilderness of Wicklow Co. Ireland. My mother would love this hotel. For breakfast, there a thousands of tea, coffee, and fruit options. Even grapefruit.
Most importantly, they bring you a table side coffee pot & they have nuts as well as hard boiled eggs. Mum wouldn’t even have to get the hot breakfast. Saving money. Just like her.
My Dublin. That’s a bit narcissistic, don’t you think? Assuming I can even call Dublin “mine” when I have been here barely three weeks. Wow. Has it been that long already? I feel as if I had just flown in yesterday. My eyes are sore. My muscles ache. The constant movement from class to residence to bus to city to restaurant keeps my stomach craving such a high volume of food that I’m not quite sure if its due to this increase in movement or an increase in stress. It is so hard to focus. It would have been nice to think that I would have been a little better settled, or relaxed. Then, I think back to my life in States.
My America is an endless tug-of-war between duty and dedications. I coordinate a convention. I attend university. I contribute to a college life blog. I helped with beta testings and beta fish. In my free time, I study Japanese and write. Which I do for my work. So, writing is more or less this grey area for me. Something I’m both dedicated to and have a duty towards. The more I type–or write about it–the more I recognize: My Dublin isn’t very different from me at all.
My Dublin still eats when it doesn’t need to, puts off work for the solace of a pillow, gets up too early to do work because of the pillow, runs around like a maniac taking pictures of everything when its not doing work, and still doesn’t like to eat scones. It doesn’t get home sick, but doesn’t forget about its family either. It eats healthy; it drinks Americano; and it speaks with a worldly accent that resembles Australian.
My Dublin likes thinking I’m Australian. And I like it liking it.
the rain in Ireland has surprisingly been kept to the nights, though I am grateful for its lulling to deep sleep, blocking of artificial light (and morning sun light), and reluctance to entre my open window because of pulled blinds. i’ve assimilated well with a 1/2 australian, 1/2 cambridgeshire accent. i write with a British english tone anyway, so I’m glad I can finally read my work in it.
it makes me happy.
in other news, please check my newest column at Niche Magazine titled “Japan in a Box.” There is nothing like eating Japanese food in San Francisco then knowing you’re going to share that experience with others via the internet.
also, if you haven’t checked out my newest blog TumbleweedWords, please do so! As a travel writer and a tumbleweed, my words try to incorporate as much as they can of my experiences and reflections from across the highway or across the pond.
constantly trying to find the time to have it freely, enjoy everything for now!