Hey Ireland- Tanks a Million!

I landed in Dublin early in the morning two weeks ago Monday; I'd slept like a donkey on narcotics on the flight over so I was ready for my drive to Limerick. Hertz, who has proved to be ever so helpful in the past, thought it a good idea to give the dumb yank with little sleep and minor dyslexia a manual car. I only smashed the stick into first gear on accident three or four times, and only almost killed two joggers. I was on a roll...

Jackie was already in Limerick having arrived two days prior to myself. Her original plan to extort money out of her ex-boyfriend who promised to pay for her flight over but never did then became a right jackarse! She said she had a great time though, little did we know just how much we were about to laugh our faces off for the entire week.

We headed to Cashel to see the 'Rock' which I had seen last year and wanted to show Jackie, amazing views yet again but not as nice weather this time.





We contemplated Dingle then got a text from Johnnie saying he had tea on for us so we drove straight to Ennis. What a beautiful B&B his parents have. Druimn, the Finn family estate, is storybook. What was even more quaint was the budding romance between Jackie and Johnnie's father whom we deemed 'The Captain' since we didn’t feel comfortable calling him John and he didn’t feel comfortable being called Mr. Finn. 'The Captain' came from a picture in their kitchen where Mr. Finn is looking rather dapper in a very authoritative uniform. When he said it was his captain picture and we asked of what, he told us the golf course we all laughed, hence his new name. Jackie definitely has good taste though; The Captain could very well be the cutest man alive.

After some drinks in town on the walk back to Druimn, while having an intense discussion on the proclivity of serial killers, Jackie snapped a picture with an alarmingly bright flash. Johnnie peed a little and I jumped into the hedge.



After a few ciders and a few hundred laughs we snuggled into our beds awaiting the week’s adventures.



Tuesday Johnnie took us in our rented car which we called 'Siobhan' - pronounced phonetically as a dumb American friend of mine once did. The GPS became known as Fergal which is Jackie's ex-boyfriends name because both of them seem to have no fucking idea what they are talking about. We headed to the Cliffs of Moher which Jackie and I had both been to but never on such a beautiful day. (Side note- the entire time we were there it was sunny and 75 degrees, unreal.)




Please don't fall, tanks.


That castle is actually HUGE!


It's electric, boogey woogey...ahhh, lame...





On the way home Johnnie drove us through The Burren then Ballyvaughn where we saw the birthplace of Jackie’s beloved.
Throughout the trip, Johnnie being a Chef and obviously from the area, often would see someone and say things like, oh that guy is my fish supplier which of course led to many jokes involving who my meat distributer is and who handles Jackie’s ice cream maintenance.


Birthplace of El Capitan!


Ballyvaughn boats.

Wednesday we met up with Sinead, Johnnie's sister, for an amazing meal at the Moy House, incredible views. Then we went down to the water to watch the surfers and crazy Eddie (mentioned previously and often in this blog!) teach a group of school kids surf lessons. That night we headed to Limerick to see Johnnie's friend Cahal play in a traditional Irish band at a huge pub called Nancy Blake’s. It was amazing; I loved every minute of it!













Thursday we awoke bleary eyed, hung over and starving. But due to my awesome planning skills we had no time to eat before our Angela’s Ashes walking tour. My friends at home know that I am obsessed with Frank McCourt; I even tried stalking him at NYU where he taught. The tour was very interesting, I freaked out every 5 minutes especially when the tour guide said he was friends with Frank and last year before he died he had accompanied that very tour. The hangovers we were experiencing in addition to the rumblings in our bellies and the seemingly never ending walk we were on enabled us to really experience what little Frank must have gone through as a starving semi-homeless child in Limerick.







We headed back to Ennis to relax and get ready for the Aran Islands the next day. We awoke fresh and bright Friday and drove to Doolin to catch a ferry to the smallest of the islands, Inis Oirr- pronounced Inis Sheer. It was another lovely day and we were no longer hung over so the boat ride was not catastrophic, it was however on the way back the next day!

We played tennis on the beach, I made a sand castle that would rival a Frank Lloyd Wright creation, took artistic pictures, went on a horse drawn tour around the island, had lunch and then proceeded to drink and laugh for the next 12 hours straight. That night, after I had a terrible run in with the shower and having to take a bath after completely soaking the entire bathroom, we had a lovely meal and hit the town. The town on Inis Oirr is two pubs. It was a great night the highlight being when Jackie fell in love with the bartender, Nessan who apparently also catches all the lobster for the island, and runs the bike shop, oh and runs the ferry. Days later while reading the Ireland Lonely Planet Jackie and I noticed Nessan’s family highlighted in the book as owning the largest of the few hotels on the island. This of course led to discussions on how Jackie would someday return, marry Nessan and become Queen of Inis Oirr, after having added ten ATM machines, an internet cafe and a McDonalds. Americans rule!











Jackie only had cell reception on the ground. Class!


Mussel Beach


Miniature Grand Canyon!




Johnnie never stops working!


Inis Oirr Lake










before


after

On the way back, stopping to take pictures I forced Johnnie and Jackie into a prom pose. Jackie tried to resist but Johnnie is too cute.


gayest. picture. ever.



The next day we headed back to Ennis then straight to Dublin so Jackie could get her flight at 6am Sunday, ow?...why..? Johnnie collapsed in the hotel claiming liver disease, whatever! Jackie and I already know from our previous trips to Ireland that we can out drink Irish men...wait... should we still be proud of things like this? Oh well, the two of us went for a few pints and Jackie had a few hours of sleep then cabbed it to the airport. It was like our child leaving the nest, so sad, she was missed dearly. But not for very long cause Johnnie got us tickets to my first ever hurling match Sunday night!

What can I say....I am used to Yankee games where everyone drinks obsessively and talks about life over a leisurely 3 hour game, then everyone pays attention in the last inning and lazily cheers or boos accordingly. Hurling is another thing all together. Everyone and I mean everyone was on the edge of their seats during the one hour match. No pads, no rules, no penalties. It was awesome! Johnnie's county in which he lives, Clare, was the underdog and expected to come nowhere near winning. Guess what? Someone got my memo to make this the best trip ever cause they won! Only a few people went on the field to congratulate the team...








Johnnie and I had a quiet night after that, my liver was telling me night mares as well so I decided to be nice to it for once.

Thanks to Brian, the ever so helpful bartender at the Gingerman pub across from the hotel, we had plenty of amazing advice to carry out our Dublin plans. My last day in Ireland was visiting Kilmainham Gaol, which if it sounds scary it should being that it is a former prison where many famous leaders in the campaign for Irish independence were imprisoned and violently executed. Kilmainham was built in 1796 and is now a museum with an incredible amount of history. Our tour could have been a week long and we wouldn’t have scraped the surface of all the events that took place there. You may recognize it from movies like The Italian Job, Michael Collins and In the Name of the Father.



On the way back to the hotel to have a proper meal and say our good byes before my flight Johnnie and I took a cab with a lovely driver named Antony. You know how they say everything happens for a reason? Well I am fighting for this story to appear next time anyone Wikipedia’s that statement....

Johnnie decided randomly that we should get Antony's phone number as I needed a ride to the airport that evening. Fast forward ½ hour later, walking while looking for a nice restaurant Johnnie realized he had no wallet. Breathe, think, breathe, gasp, profanities, breathe again. SHIT. We called Antony who looked in his cab and saw no wallet but ominously told Johnnie that he would be calling him back in twenty minutes. Apparently Antony picked up two guys right after us, one sat in the front and one in the back. Antony knew the guy in the front fairly well. The guy in the back, he did not. He dropped them at a bar in a dodgy part of town. So after our call he returned to the bar, walked up to the guy (from the back seat), put his hand on his shoulder and asked to speak to him outside. Once outside and without saying a word the guy squirmed and put Johnnie's wallet in Antony's hand.

Yeahhhh......

So our super hero cab driver said he would just bring it back to us when he picked me up for the airport in a few hours and we all cheered. I told Johnnie that this was either the coolest story ever or a very elaborate and painful way to go about me paying for dinner.

You go Ireland! You’re awesome!

Live action!

So I just rediscovered some videos that had been too long to post at the time, what with all our computer issues while traveling. But for the time being (at least until they take it away on my last day of work), I have this sweetass laptop that can finally get my videos to youtube. And now, I post them here for you.

We've got Tracy's aunt singing about why she wants to be a glowworm in Wanaka:


While in Wanaka, you might remember our dorky afternoon in Puzzle World. Tracy experiments in one of the optical illusion rooms:


Then we see yet again why I have a track record for destroying cameras around the world:


And you can see why our overnight in Milford Sound was totally worth it, despite my needle-lined throat- note how tiny the cruise ship is at the base of one of the waterfalls:


Then, finally, our helicopter ride to the top of Franz Josef Glacier- unfortunately I did not get the part of the trip where the pilot made it look like we would fly straight into the mountainside. Tracy: "you see that, right?":

Is this the line for Air and Space?

So, if you're one of the two people still reading this site, I guess you'll be the first to know...so, have you heard? There's a recession going on. I know, I know, it may come as quite a shock...I'll give you a minute to let it sink in.

In case you're still not sure, I was just given a little more proof today. Turns out MeadWestvaco has decided to eliminate 2000 positions, and while I had illusions I would survive the cuts, I was sorely mistaken. The end of February will find me unemployed for the second time in a year. But this time, it's not self-imposed. Self-imposed was so much more fun.

Didn't think I'd find myself asking this question on this here blog for the second time in 10 months...anyone in Richmond want to employ me? Or for that matter, Tracy? Or 10 of my closest friends? Again, did I mention that we're in a recession? Where are the soup lines? On a happier note, though, I spent my blissful, pre-unemployment Tuesday in Washington DC for the Inauguration! Yay glimmer of hope. Obama, please get the job done. If you didn't hear, a few people showed up for this thing: Also, if you didn't hear, it was kind of a historic day. We greeted the newest rock star...um, I mean, President, and there was something kind of monumental about it. I forget what it was.

If you can't tell, people are a little happy about this...who knew?

So weird. I thought it was just us.
So yes, Jen, Wes and I made our way to the Inauguration, thanks to my wonderful parents, who dropped us off at the metro at 5AM, then picked us up after we froze our asses off with 2 million people, but then picked us up after we celebrated...our only goal after the inauguration was to find a warm place to get nice and inebriated (what, us?). We found a great place, then met with a group of Canadians who had decided 2 days prior to spontaneously drive down for the Inauguration without a place to stay. My kind of people. By the way, in this photo, I was trying to look pensive about our new President, but instead it just looks like I'm about to pick my nose...

But the highlight really was our new friends:





The end of the night, of course, involved Wes trying to take a photo of the trash left on the street and almost missing our metro stop, but we managed to make it back to my parent's place without incident.

Thanks Jen and Wes, for actually making it out...and providing plenty of laughs, apparently it was to be the laugh before the storm (that's how the saying goes, right?).

Road trip to Toronto, anyone? Probably should go before I lose my car, my free gas, my computer, my job...my source of income. Wow, who knew? "Your position has been eliminated" is a pretty sucky thing to hear. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you funnier though, right? Don't worry, I'm sure I'll get funny about it soon.

Let's hope, at least.

Everything in nature goes south in Winter...so why do we go North?

So since it appears that my job has become intent on me never seeing my apartment ever again (selling envelopes is HARD), I have some time to kill to thank all of our friends who made this New Years one of the most kickass in history. Although my liver may never again recover. And I know we joked a lot about losing brain cells throughout the week...but it's mostly because we lost so many that we couldn't think of anything else coherent to say.

We continued the Virginia-New York coalition (otherwise known as the Southern Aggression, or Uncivil war) by driving me, Geoffrey, Kelly and Jenn up to Hunter Mountain in upstate New York. Throughout the week, we were joined of course by Tracy, and about a dozen blue-tongued, cougar-miming, sometimes British and sometimes Mexican New Yorkers.

We started out the week with some quality outdoor activity, like tubing:


Of course, when we signed the release of liability forms, quoting possible "catastrophic injury," we all laughed, but that was before I asked the guy at the top of the hill to "spin me" and instead he launched me directly off the track, screaming down the uphill portion at 30MPH. After plowing through 2 signposts and stopping only by colliding with some unsuspecting tuber, I found I had taken a hook to the eye.

Ouch.


Luckily we had- was it Jack or Julia? Chilling in our yard to help ease the pain:

Lisa, Laura and I were quickly given the opportunity to prove just what squealing little girls we are when the "chalet" we were staying in proved to have a rodent resident:

Pretty sure if we had petticoats we would have lifted them.

I also made some of my specialty, jello jiggler shots, though they went especially quickly when we made the first and second place winners (Lisa and Tracy) finish the two plates on the table:



For some reason, though, Lisa and I felt the need to stay up progressively later and later each night, so when most of the group went skiing in the beautiful fresh snow New Years Eve:


instead, Lisa, Ann, Tom and I woke up at approximately 3PM and scrambled to find something outdoorsy to do before the sun set. After finding 500 phone numbers that all led to the same "not-working-today" dude in Hunter, we finally found an open and operating location where we could take out snowmobiles...kind of slowly, though I still managed to almost tip off the track more than once. But man, we looked like badasses:

But of course we had a sober New Years, and had no fun at all.








Somehow, New Years day, we actually got up early enough (maybe had something to do with the fact that we- by that I mean I- didn't watch the sun rise the night before) so a group of us finally got out skiing for reals.
Look- it's Lisa not falling down!


We had a blissed out full week of no cell phone reception and no rules other than Geoffrey (aka "Dad") attempting, to no avail, to suggest that we get to bed by 3 some night. The final night, Geoffrey, Jenn, Jo and Laura created the story "Nemesis," which, if you want the recap, set aside 2 hours of your day and be prepared with tissues when Katie the evil vampire queen is killed. It's a tearjerker.

I, however, joined Kelly, Lisa and Ann in a night of poker and a game I created called "drink" (when someone says the work "drink," everyone drinks...if you want a copy of the rules email me). For some reason, this inspired arm wrestling.

I'll lie and say I won.
Round two might not have been the best idea though.


Every good week needs a few proper injuries.

New Years resolution: sell more envelopes!

Does DC count as travel?

Katie here- So it's fairly safe to say that no one is reading this blog any more, seeing as I haven't even looked at it in months, but I thought I'd toss something out there as a little tribute. Because in a roundabout way, this whole last week was linked to our travels, because Johnnie Finn, an Irishman we met in New Zealand, continued his tour of foreign locales by visiting Richmond!

We brought him first to DC, where he tested his strength:


After that warmup, we had him lift GIGANTIC beers:




We then introduced Johnnie to a creepy, possibly haunted, pumpkin patch to find pumpkins to carve and try not to get killed by some child of the corn. For some reason, in the middle of some hay maze designed for midgets, there were a group of goats hanging out by a couch that when looking at Johnnie would scream "BLAHHHHHHGH":



The price was $20 for as many pumpkins as you could carry for 3 feet:


Is that a gourd in your pocket or are you happy to see me?


So for halloween, we came up with what might have been the stupidest and least functional idea ever, but it did get better once I figured out how to get a straw through the screen for easier drinking. Along the trend of all the "sexy cats" and "sexy nurses" and whatever, we decided that lobsters and bulls were extremely underrepresented in the "sexy animal" genre (Tracy was the bull, I was the lobster, and Johnnie was inexplicably a large horse):



(The cameraperson told us to "be sad"- Wes took Johhnie's horse head):


And then, Johnnie got to witness THE BEST DAY EVER IN OUR NATION'S HISTORY, November 4th. To quote Wes, we partied like it was 19 fuckin 99. Uh, yeah Johnnie...sorry about making you fly with a hangover! GOBAMA!