Friday, August 28, 2009

Adjustment

Day 5 of being back in Seattle. Day 2 of being able to make it through the day without a nap. Day 0 of not waking up at 5:30 in the effing morning and being able to go back to sleep. Day 2 of extreme boredom. Day 2 of being back in class.

My top three activities have been laying/sleeping in my bed, and the other two I can’t tell you about. Mentally, it has been an interesting process. The only ‘culture shock’ that I have had is remembering how to drive. I sat at a 4-way the other day for about 2 minutes, waiting for the bus driver to go… only this time I was the driver. Internally, I didn’t realize how much my perspective has been altered while I was still in Ireland, but it becomes more apparent daily now that I’m back. Not a shift in the direction of better or worse… just different than before. Which tends to happen with any relatively impactful event in life, as well as the not-so-impactful ones I suppose. Of course all self-awareness building is always positive :)

I have a renewed respect and appreciation for the northwest, and am happier to be back than I thought I would be. Letting go of the need/desire to get my Ph.D. right away has lifted a huge weight off of me that I didn’t realize I was carrying. Making this decision while in a foreign place enabled me to really be present in my situation, though I didn’t realize it until I returned to Seattle. I am much more able to be present, and be aware of my being present, than I ever have been in my life. I’m one of those people that is always thinking about the next step. Always looking to the future and making decisions now that are only going to have a positive impact on it. Always looking at the next degree program, planning my next trip, researching, researching, researching. Of course things don’t always pan out the way you visualize them, almost never in fact. But having the intense belief that everything happens for a reason and that there is a plan for us all makes the surprises in life that much more exhilarating. Back to the point… always looking ahead makes it really hard to be present sometimes. While I live with total gratitude and have more appreciation for life and the beauty in it than I could possibly explain… I sometimes feel guilty when I realize that I’m thinking too much about the future and not appreciating the moment that I’m in. In a moment of personal euphoria on Wednesday, I was driving down 405 to Bellevue for a massage therapy appointment, the sun was shining, the sky was bright clear blue, and I was blasting the new DMB album that I haven’t been able to really listen to all summer. Those that know me know that it doesn’t take much for me to bust a tear sometimes… but I did. All of my really intense emotions come out in the form of tears, including happiness. In this moment, I was truly present. I wasn’t thinking about tomorrow, or next week, or next year. I was in complete and utter bliss simply driving my car, being in the sun, and listening to my favorite band on earth.

Since this, and a bit building up to it after some reflection, I have been able to maintain a state of presence for nearly the whole day. Hence my insane boredom today waiting for my doc appointment. Like so bored I was antsy and pacing around the house desperately trying to think of something to do that I hadn’t already done from the time I had been up at 5-effing-30. So I ended up making a sandwich and driving my car to the doc and parking in the shade and reading for an hour before my appointment, when usually I’m rushing to and fro and eating while driving to save time. Roommate says Relax. And enjoy the down time. Emily says How can I be productive, I’m wasting time. But as was crammed into our undergraduate brains…”Self-Care”. Roommate is right, once again. I have been getting better at this in the last few years, trust me. But it is hard to feel like I’m wasting time when I could be making progress, helping someone, saving the world, etc. And I know. You can’t take care of others unless you take care of yourself. I tell people all the time. But I’m calming. Really.

I’ve been keeping a fabulous view of the scenery, and I think I’m finally ready to sit down and really take it in for awhile.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Back to Seattle

Well after 20 hours of flying, 2 layovers, delicious American airport lunch of Auntie Anne's pretzels and Jamba Juice, a cuddle puddle with my seatmates and watching people on Valium, and being greeted by the sunset over Mt. Rainier in all its glory... I came into the Seattle airport to find my love Amy holding a bag of delicious Qdoba. Oh, it is good to be home :)
On our last night in Dublin, we drank copious amounts of whiskey, and ate two large baskets of chips (fries) dipped in ketchup and mayo. My alarm didn't go off in the morning, and it was pure choas when Chris called and woke me up 40 minutes before we had to be headed to the airport. We were all still slightly intoxicated, and relfecting on the tears the night before. A combination of excitement to get home, and sadness to leave what were weren't ready to leave yet. After our initial arrival on U.S. soil from a 7 hour flight, I led a small yoga session in the Newark airport to help us handle our journey for the rest of the day. Then it was off to Houston, and then finally home to Seattle. Pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/enger.emily
It has been an amazing summer... so much has changed in such a short period of time. Where do I begin... the Ph.D. is no longer the goal, I've had yet more confirmation that I'm not meant to be in a relationship... maybe ever. I'm already plotting my next travel destination, and I am more grateful for the loves in my life than I can even begin to describe. December's graduation will come on the most welcome chariot that I have ever received, and then a whole new adventure begins. I absolutely cannot wait. With the rate of ascension my happiness and joy has taken in life, I suspect that by the time I'm 50 I could possibly just keel over from ecstasy.

With all the love and gratitude possible,

Emily

Friday, August 21, 2009

RIVERDANCE

OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Greatest day EVER... Danielle is here!! Went to the Guinness Storehouse and had some tasty Guinness stew and some tasty Guinness of course, went to the Jameson distillery and learned about the fine art of whiskey-making, and drank some of course... bought beautiful matching rings, bought some sweet ass shoes, drank some fabulous wine at a beautiful little wine bar, checked out the National Gallery, drank more, and then went to RIVERDANCE!!! Yes, Riverdance. The amazingness that I have wanted to see since I was just a wee one... and it was so much better in person, I can't even tell you. I shed a tear. For joy. It was so fantastic. Not to mention that we had FRONT ROW, right in the center. WWOOOOOHHOOOO!!! Its all just so fabulous... and tomorrow I have to pack everything up, because we fly out Saturday morning. Its very surreal.... I will be able to write more once I'm home and can reflect. Pics soon!

Love,
EM

Monday, August 17, 2009

I Left My Heart in Barcelona...

Stepping off the plane last night and being blasted by the cold, drizzly Dublin air was not welcomed.  I had just ended my weekend in the most beautiful, wonderful city that I now love so dearly.  Miles of beaches, intricate architecture, artistic touch on everything in sight, palm trees, sunny blue skies, beautiful bronzed bodies, Picasso, Dali, Gaudi, original jewelry, art, art, art, delicious juice, chili-flaked margaritas... the list goes on.  
My arrival into Girona airport was embraced by the most stunning sunset I have ever seen.  We have some amazing sunsets in the Northwest, but this... wow.  The pictures I took out the window of the plane don't come near to bringing it justice.  It outweighed the fact that my flight happened to be the daycare express and was carrying at least 20 screaming children. I knew it was going to be an unforgettable weekend.  I navigated the Girona airport with much more ease than I expected and hopped on the bus to Barcelona, 1 hour away.  At the bus station, I found a row of taxis... and managed to communicate my destination.  (At this point I have already decided that I need to finally learn Spanish).  I arrive at our hotel on Numancia at about 11 at night, and make Camille get dressed because I'm damn hungry. And thirsty. We roll into the bar of our hotel, and what do I see but a gleaming silver cold tap of my favorite beer.  It was fate.  Not to mention the beautiful man filling my glass...
The next morning we got up early and headed to the beach.  Oh the magnificent glorious beach.  The lifestyle in Spain is one that I could jive with...probably forever.  Casual, relaxed, late starts, several small meals a day, siestas, fiestas, and lots of naked time.  You would think that this might be an uncomfortable atmosphere... hundreds of naked people.. but it wasn't.  It was completely chill and just... natural.  Swimming in the Mediterranean was amazing.  Way saltier than I expected, way warmer than I expected, and just all around blissful.  After getting out, I felt like I had been getting a massage for hours.  I have never felt so relaxed in my life.  After a few hours of delicious beach lounging, we cruised towards the city and found some lunch.  With it came the greatest juice I have ever tasted, and then I decided that I'm purchasing a juicer when I get home as well. 
After some more sight seeing and some showers, we headed down to the bar of our hotel to have a drink before dinner.  Kiwi Mojitos? Yes please.  Trusty beautiful bartender man comes through again.  After some tasty Japanese food up the street, we came back to the hotel, and decided to let the bartender show us a night out in Spain.  I'll leave out the details, but highlights include a dive bar called the Can Can, urban hiking, and swimming in the Mediterranean as the sun came up.  Best night of trip? Yes. After getting back to the hotel at about 10:30 am...we slept until 4.  True Spanish form.  We headed down to the bar of course, and were then escorted to where we could find breakfast/lunch/dinner...?  Then we attempted to hit up the Picasso Museum, which never came to fruition as they were about to close.  They said to come back on Sunday, as it was free after 3 pm.  Hooray! So more wandering ensued, and we found ourselves in the middle of a festival of music, dancing, and other wares for sale.  I found a beautiful necklace, and a couple of scarves, and Camille had to talk herself out of buying the most magnificent ring I have ever seen. Soon we were hungry, so we kept wandering. Mexican food! In Spain? We were very intrigued, and also hoped that they had some of those sorbet margaritas we'd been hearing about.  They didn't.  But what they DID have was €3.50 margaritas for happy hour. Score. Passion fruit, with chili flakes on the rim instead of salt.  Incredible.  Your lips burn, but your mouth is cooled, all while the flavor rushes your head... I wanted to steal the flakes and run home to create my own...
After drinks, a walk to the Placa de Catalunya, the center of the city. Fountains, statues, beauty everywhere.  Back to the hotel again, and off to bed.  Sunday morning checkout, and hopped on a tour bus through the city.  Very easy and wonderful way to see everything and hear about it in a short period of time.  Off the bus, and back to the Mexican restaurant for lunch.  More tasty margaritas! And food of course.   Then attempt number two at the Picasso museum dashed! Line went for nearly a mile... fail.  More hiking, sweating, trudging, browsing, etc. and then to check into Camille's hotel for Sunday night.  Arrive, pass out sideways on bed, legs hanging off.  Wake up, catch cab, get on bus to airport, check in, have beer with Chris and Ryan, have to go check in again because they didn't stamp my visa check, run back upstairs, get on plane to Dublin, eat chicken caesar wrap, try to nap, fail, land in Dublin... and back to reality.  Home to shower and crash. Hard.  
The drunken planning of this trip was such a good choice, I must say :) See pics here:  http://picasaweb.google.com/enger.emily
On the educational side of it, it was interesting to learn more about the European perception of Americans... which isn't that great.  No surprise, given the reputation of the US for being in everyone's business all the time.  The general description of Americans would be: loud, obese, obnoxious, stupid, materialistic, arrogant, and "Up their own asses".  Which makes sense, given that most of what Europe sees of us is exactly those things.  Waging wars left and right throughout history, our piece of shit fascination for the tabloids and the most idiotic, worthless people they can find to put on reality tv shows, the right-wing screaming their ignorant heads off about anything that would possibly promote equality, to name a few.  While everyone over here is very excited and positive about the election of Obama, it is the first positive move in quite sometime in their eyes.  They also see most Americans that travel in Europe being young/college-aged, immature, can't handle their booze, loud and obnoxious, ditzy, easy, etc... and build their perceptions from that as well.  So Americans... please stop traveling to Europe and getting completely wasted and making an ass out of all of us.  Build your tolerance, or just stop when you start to slur or get beer goggles.  Maintain yourself enough to have an intelligent conversation with a few locals, and help them believe that we aren't all idiots.  Please.  If you really feel ambitious, quit supporting shitty reality TV, and shitty TV in general for that matter.  They see things like the Hills, the OC, Rock of Love, My Super Sweet Sixteen, and whatever other piece of shit show that is on, and really think that is how we all live.  Its disgusting.  
And that is my rant for the day, thank you for listening.  

I heart you Spain, and I will return to you!

Love and gratitude,
Em

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The final countdown

As the end of my trip draws near, I can't help but think about all the things I miss about home, as well as all the things I will miss about Ireland.  There are no Mexican people here, therefore no Mexican food.  This is very hard for me, and I have already put in my order with Amy, who will be bringing it to the airport for me as a burrito-carrying angel.  I'm really excited to come home and eat countless succulent pieces of raw fish, as that is a rarity here as well.  I miss the sun, I miss the ocean, I miss the smell of the ocean, I miss the sound of seagulls.  I miss my roommate and the doggies, I miss my super amazing and wonderful friends and my lovely cohort at Seattle U.  I miss driving my car, I miss cooking my own food, I miss my delicious bed, and I really miss Montana and all of my loves in it.
However, I will miss the delicious taste of real Guinness.  I will miss everyone saying Hiya, Cheers, Brilliant!, Grand!, and saying Bye at least 3 times before actually hanging up the phone.  I will miss the beautiful green patchwork quilt of the Irish countryside, and the cobblestone streets of Dublin, even though they are really dirty.  I will miss my fabulous co-workers at CityArts, and I will miss my Shanowen peeps and random hikes to the Comet for cheap Jameson and unwanted yet hilarious advances by the elder locals.  I will miss my Indian waiter buddy at Diwali, and the adventures of the Dublin bus system.  
I try to think of my favorite moments of the last 7 weeks... and images of Ceol Craic agus Rinca flash into my head, alongside the Killarney downtown, the epic Cliffs of Moher, miles of hydrangeas, learning to pour the perfect Guinness, Black Cab tours, drumbeats and firedancers, amazing salmon and never ending smiles and laughs at random pubs with true Irish folk.  
While there have been difficult moments, this experience has opened my eyes to an abundance of possibilities that I thought I had done more than scratch the surface of before.  As a close friend told me it would, it really has changed my life... for the better... as things such as this tend to do.  
Everyone on this trip has taken at least one excursion outside of Ireland, and this final weekend I am taking mine to Barcelona, Spain.  While I had a brief episode of anxiety about the flight arrangements and the abundance of pick-pocketers, I have calmed down and cannot wait to prance on the beaches of Spain and explore the beautiful gothic architecture of such a beautiful and historical city.  Upon my return from Spain, my best friend Danielle will be arriving in Dublin.  Oh how we have waited for this moment, to be abroad together.  Watch out Dublin, make sure your kegs are tapped and your Jameson is stocked.  We have front row tickets to Riverdance and we are THIRSTY.  I love everyone, and I cannot wait to see you again :) 

Love and Tapas,

Emily Jo

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Wine Decisions

Holy mother of God. I drank too much wine last night and booked a flight to Barcelona. Don't worry, Camille did too. And two of the guys are going also. But still. I woke up this morning and saw my wallet sitting on my computer *sweet Jesus*.
I have no regrets! It will be a hilarious adventure, especially considering Camille and I accidentally booked seperate flights, to seperate airports, at very seperate times of the day. Thank God she speaks some Spanish. Please pray for us.

I had a fabulous massage this week, much needed after sleeping on dorm beds for 6 weeks. It was fantastical, and I came out of there feeling better than I have in quite some time. On Friday, we headed to Belfast, with pit stops in Drogheda (Draw-head-uh) at the Cathedral to see the head of Saint Oliver Plunkett and the site of the famous Battle of the Boyne. It was beautiful. Once we got to Belfast, we took a Black Cab tour. Belfast is still a segregated city, struggling heavily with fighting and peace processes. There is a wall built to seperate the Catholic and Protestant sections of the city, with a gate that still shuts every night. STILL. It was an emotional sight to see... that there is still so much fighting and struggle that there is really a wall and a gate to seperate. The murals on each side of the city are representative of each side, their opinions and passions, and are continually maintained and updated. The Black Cab drivers are allowed everywhere in the city, where as other people are not allowed, in accordance with the 'sides'. The Sinn Fein building is completely bulletproof and barred, and has cement posts in front so that no bomb vehicles can get close. Just driving through, it really is a beautiful, modern looking city. You wouldn't think that at night gangs of children gather on either side of the gate screaming hate and throwing bottles and rocks at each other. So very sad. Here are the pics from the trip: http://picasaweb.google.com/enger.emily


This is a short one, I know... but my mind is now consumed with navigating Barcelona in a few days. I'll keep you posted, trust me :)

Love and gratitude,
EM

Monday, August 3, 2009

Onward and Upward

It has been an interesting week. The work week was relatively uneventful, though one of our fellow interns hosted an awesome Connector Party through her workplace. Very fun, and at a very kick-ass venue. I also got to do some more research regarding my summary project, and will be meeting with some interesting folk in the next couple of weeks to supplement my work.
On Thursday, my relationship ended… via email. Good times, I know. So I spent that day at home, shedding tears to a select couple of loved ones through a webcam. And then I drank a bottle of wine on the lawn with my fabulous roommate. The love was on the rocks, but does anyone deserve to be broken up with via email when they’re across the planet? Really? But, being the ragingly independent soul that I am… I’m fine. It was really good when it was good, but obviously not meant to be. Though I truly thought it was initially. More reinforcement in my mind that my lifestyle and perception is just not conducive to a serious relationship, at least at this point in my life.

Moving on…
On Friday morning we hopped on the train to Galway, and then on the bus to Lisdoonvarna. Holy effing motion sickness. Lisdoonvarna is a tiny tiny town at the top of the windiest ‘mountain’ I’ve ever been hauled up in a 50 passenger bus in my life. I thought I was going to have to barf on the poor driver if we didn’t get there soon. Thank Dramamine we arrived, and made the short trek to our hostel. Our reason for this journey to the middle of nowhere? The Cliffs of Moher. If you don’t know, Google it. On Saturday, the hostel hosed us out of an all day tour, so we got on at 1:30 and headed to Doolin, the tiny town 15 minutes away from Lisdoonvarna that serves as the gateway to the cliffs. We bought some tasty treats in Doolin, and headed up another hill. Please note, more people die each year from being BLOWN off these cliffs than from all the crime in Ireland. A 24 year old boy died 25 weeks before we came apparently. All the words I have at my disposal cannot do justice to the magnificence of this natural creation. Please see pics here: http://picasaweb.google.com/enger.emily

There is a rock wall where people aren’t supposed to go because its private property, and where people die, but of course everyone goes anyway because that is where the best experience is. They are so large, and so high, and so effing scary but so serene and calming at the same time. God was on our side that day, and graced us with the beautiful sun that we have seen so rarely since our arrival. What a perfectly beautiful place to plop down, breathe in… and just let it all go. And that is exactly what I did.

Kim the amazing roommate brought her SNUGGIE, so of course we had to take the most epic picture of all time of her in the Snuggie majestically braving the wind and cliffs. See pictures for the amazingness. After we got our fill of pretending to fall off the cliffs and meditating, we cruised back over to the land of legality and safety and headed to the little castle on the other cliff. This is when the wind picked up, and when I totally understood how people get blown off the effing things. People were literally leaning 45 degrees and not falling. A poor little doggie was struggling just to walk. I had to plant my feet almost 4 feet apart just to take a steady picture. It was madness.

The next morning we hopped on the bus back to Galway (I took the motion sick meds beforehand this time) to catch the Galway Horse Races. The bus to the races never came, so we just hung out in Galway and watched the Gaelic Football match all day and drank. By the way, Gaelic Football as well as Hurling, are a million times cooler than any American professional sport has ever been or will be. No padding, no stopping the clock every 10 seconds, no steroids, no cocky attitude and arrogance, no absurd amounts of money, no endorsement deals, no crediting a product for your ‘performance’, no bragging unless its about another teammate… just all around BETTER. How do I know most of this? We accidentally hung out with 4 players from Co. Kerry for an entire weekend and it was the most fun I’ve had since I’ve been here. These men are real athletes, I’m just sayin.

At 6:15, we caught the train back to Dublin for some much needed showering and sleep. Today (Monday) is a bank holiday (we still don’t know what that means except that we don’t have to work) so we headed to the pub for the Dublin/Kerry match… and watched Dublin get their asses handed to them by Kerry. Back to Shanowen Square to do some laundry, lay in the lawn and read, and have a tasty meal cooked for us by our Spanish neighbors. Blissful long weekend, I must say. Tomorrow we head into our third to last week of work, and to Belfast on Friday for the Black Cab tour. Don’t forget to check the pics!

Love and real football,
Emily Jo