October 2006 Archives

Lina: anyway
Lina: do you think that counts for Holland?
Ryan: I'd say so
Ryan: unless you absolutely have to sleep with them
Lina: hell no
Lina: I'm not a whore
Ryan: I don't know how your book works
Lina: 25 countries in the EU and new additions in January
Lina: what kind of girl do you think i am?
Ryan: adventurous?

I was running out of material and began regaling my Irish pals with the abuse I've suffered already as an American in a foreign country. The accusatory talk of wars, the Arnold Schwarzenegger impressions I've had to endure, people calling me fat, it never ends here. I'm of the belief that as an American in Europe, I'm considered exotic. A hot-house flower in a cold (and drizzly) environment. The Irish, it seems, are not of the same opinion. This is likely due to the large amounts of 'Friends' that is broadcast here--it renders my accent less curious. I've begun threatening to bomb people that disagree or contradict me in any way, which usually brings a pleasant silence to the table. This allows me to continue my anecdotes without interruption. Midway through the evening, I entertained the Dublin posse with my story about getting called a snobby cunt by a man on the street the other day.

"I don't think the guy knew you were an American," my new Gaelic friend said. "At least, I don't think that's why he said that to you."

"He probably said it because you are, in fact, a snobby coont."

Man at a bus stop, "Hey girls, hey girls, hi girls."

Us: "..."

Man: "Ya snobby coonts!" Five minutes of unintelligble gibberish followed us down the street to the next block.

I've been called a lot of things in my life, but never a "snobby cunt."

German girl: "..."

Me: laughing hysterically.

Scene.

n. (-t, -t)
1. One who has taken up residence in a foreign country.
2. One who has renounced one's native land.

So I've moved to Dublin. It's a very strange transition, which I expected, but in ways I didn't expect. It's not very foreign--it's only Ireland, after all. But because it's not so different, when there are things that deviate from the American style, it's a huge shock. This means that I ended up being shocked most of the day, because there are quite a few differences.

I'm completely incapable of crossing the street. I've come so close to getting hit by cars so many times in the last few days, that I stand on curbs quaking in terror. Part of the problem is that they drive like maniacs, but more importantly, I can't figure out which way to turn my head because of the opposite side of the street driving. I always look the wrong way, and have not yet been able to train myself to look the right way. So I've now implemented a policy of looking both ways, but somehow the time it takes me to do this means that by the time I actually cross, a car that I hadn't noticed is bearing down on me, and I scurry away, panic-striken. At some crosswalks, though, there are foot tall letters painted on the street that say "look left" and "look right," as if in concessions to the morons like myself.

People may have to rely on the pavement to tell them which way to look because Dublin is a town filled with foreigners. This is part of the reason that it's such an amiable city. I've never been to a place where people are so friendly--already I have Polish, Turkish, Ukrainian and Irish pals.

Today I want to an Argos store. It's amazing. When you walk in, there is nothing there. Two counters and a catalog. The catalog has 1,642 pages, and every possible item you could possibly want. Be it a light bulb or an ipod, a full-size sofa or a laundry hamper, Argos has it. You write down the catalog number on a slip of paper, and sight unseen, pay for it. Within 60 seconds, they call your number at the counter, give you your items, and you're done. If you want a plastic bag for your purchases, you have to pay an additional 15 cents.

Before Argos, though, I managed to get myself lost for two hours looking for a grocery store that's less than ten minutes away. This is the only way I ever get to know my way around--by getting hopelessly lost a fair number of times. So I just gave in to it, and wandered around my neighborhood and the surrounding areas, constantly giggling whenever I heard an Irish child speak. I find it hard to believe that their accents here are genuine, and not just part of some elaborate joke, or maybe a historical recreation like Williamsburg, Virginia. But no, they're not kidding, and every time a real Irish person speaks to me, I have no idea what they are saying. Much like my trip to Spain (where I spoke no Spanish at all), I've taken to remaining mute and doing a lot of nodding.

I've tried to learn how to drink beer, but it's really difficult. It's pretty disgusting, and I just can't bring myself to drink that much liquid at one time. However, the locals seem to like it. Quite a bit, in fact. On Friday I was in a chipper at 3 am, and realized as I watched Irishmen literally slide down walls, that the stereotypes may actually be true.

Because the food here has yet to impress, I made this soup today. It's yummy; you should try it.

Hi

Here is my situation and what I am looking for. I just started a relationship with a woman, and we need a place to meet for a few months while she is in the process of buying a new home. (I am attached and therefore we cannot meet at my house.) We have been using hotels but that can get expensive and it is also somewhat restrictive in terms of meeting times. While we would be spending the occasional night in your apartment, we would not be living there. In fact, she has a child and therefore we would probably never be in the apt on Mon, Tues, or Friday nights and rarely on the weekends. For that reason, if you wanted to leave some of your personal stuff in a closet, that would be no problem. Similarly, if you felt comfortable, you could leave what decorations you wish since we would not be doing any decorating of our own. Obviously we need a furnished apt, and your apt is in a great neighborhood which is why I responded to your ad - although my friend lives in SF and I do not yet know whether she is willing to travel to your neighborhood.

Here are the additional particulars about our situation. She is 42 years old, has an MBA, and is an independent business consultant. I am 53, a lawyer, and I work in SF. I own a house, and I am also a landlord so I understand your concerns about subletting. I have no problem in paying your landlady in advance and in giving you a one month deposit. You may also run a credit check or check me out on the web site of the State Bar. Of course, this kind of arrangement might be upsetting to your landlady but if it is something you would consider let me know, and I will check with my partner about her interest. Thanks. John.