Loyalty

I may be a fair weather Vikings fan; I mean, who isn't? But one thing I am not is a fair weather Twins fan. Any chance I get to watch the boys compete for a playoff spot against the most hated team in all of baseball, next to the Yankees, I'm there. So, seeing as the boys are fighting for their playoff lives against the Sox, I'm sitting here, in the lounge, watching the game. The clock is now striking 3 bells...that's AM. It's the bottom of the 6th, and we're up 3-2. Ah, c'mon Punto! Roller to short. This is more a stream of consciousness than anything. If you're reading this, I'm sorry. I really feel bad I'm writing this, but I had to. What else does one do at 3 in the morning during a baseball game. Sidenote: The Irish National Baseball team was established in 1998. So, as Jermaine Dye steps to the plate with a man on in the 7th, and Boof is on the mound, I will sign off. Farewell all, until next time...

Lord, I Was Born a Ramblin' Man...

Let me clarify, I've never wanted to be a rock star. I think part of it was the fact that my instrument playing abilities never materialized to the level one might need to be at to play in a band; another reason could be that the only time I sing well is when I'm drowned out by other members of the congregation at Mass, or in the car or shower. This weekend I figured out the real reason I would never want to be a rock star: life on the road is full of nauseous moments and very few good sleeping positions...even for an expert sleeper of my caliber. However, if I were touring around beautiful Ireland, that might be an exception. Countless hours on a bus are less than fun, but the places I have had the opportunity to see and experience because of that bus made this past weekend's excursion well worth it.

We departed from Spiddal on Thursday morning at about 9am and made our way to County Kerry, and the town of Tralee, which was the site of our hostel. We made a few stops on the way to our destination including the breathtaking Cliffs of Moher, and a pristine beach, but we got there eventually. Thursday was the 18th and it happened to be not only my grandpa's birthday (Happy 50th Grandpa!), but a roommate's 21st birthday. So, as my own birthday is the 19th we had a little duel pub crawl...without the crawling part. For the adults, don't worry, I was responsible; for the younger folk, I had plenty of fun; for the children, there were plenty of clowns; and for the girlfriend, all of us with significant others sat together and talked about how we wished you all were here. There, I think I have all my bases. And for those who were wondering, my first beer on my 21st (or period) was a Guinness...what else!

On Friday we traveled the Ring of Kerry which is a gorgeous route around County Kerry, during which I climbed a small mountain, which I have surprisingly never done on my birthday. We then made our way to Killarney, which I know some of you Christmas caroling fans are pretty excited about. I'm sure "..the prettiest picture [I ever would have] seen [would be] Christmas in Killarney." However, I'll be home to help you all sing that in a few months. We also received a tour of the Muckross House, which is a mansion originally owned by a Henry Arthur Herbert, once a member of the UK Parliament. Killarney really is a beautiful town, and I even met a few high school kids who happened to be hazing a buddy of theirs. That's all the further I'll go with that, but it was entertaining. (Nothing too dangerous, don't worry.)


Saturday, we took a trip to the Dingle Peninsula we saw more beautiful scenery. Sense a theme? That night the group went to a play performance. It was a musical called "Tearmann" and it had, you guessed it, Riverdancing. It was nothing short of amazing, even if all the songs were in the Gaelic/Irish language. That night about a dozen of us went to a local pub and invited our director, Iceman, and his wife Maverick. I suppose I need to explain why Chuck and Suzanne are named Iceman and Maverick respectively. Many of you have probably heard of the ultimate fighter Chuck Liddel whose nickname is "The Iceman"; well our director's name is Chuck Rodell...get the picture. Then, in reference to "Top Gun" the famous Tom Cruise movie, one of Iceman's rivals is Maverick. I needed to explain this because for the rest of my blogging, I will be referring to Chuck as Iceman and Suzanne as Maverick. It was a little odd thinking about a 55 year old man being as "Cold as Ice" but we make it work. I just hope he never sees this blog.

So, that brings us to Sunday which was a long day of driving. We left at 1030am from Tralee and made a few stops for lunch and groceries, but finally made it back "home" at about 7pm. Whew! If you've made it to the end of this novel, congratulations! I'm trying to update this thing as much as I can, but hell, I've got exploring to do! I leave for Belfast and Derry in Northern Ireland on Thursday and come back again Sunday. So, Thursday morning will be here before I know it and I have plenty of reading to do before that, so until next time...Cheers!

Riding a Bicycle to Heaven?

Let's first start from where I left off...My second bag is here!! We were just sitting down for dinner, tacos to be exact, when one of the guys from another cottage knocked on the door carrying what I thought to be gold, frankincense, or myrrh; actually it was something far more useful than any of those gifts. This gift contained my warm fleece, my rain jacket, a very important book, some shorts (Hey at least I can wear them to bed right?), and FOOD! Can you tell I'm a little relieved? And that was the perfect ending to the perfect day. Actually the perfect ending to any day is finishing it off watching my favorite movie...anybody? You guessed it, "The Sandlot." So, that is what I'm doing right now, watching "The Sandlot" and writing.

We started the day at about 930am and took a bus through Spiddal to a small bay. We then took a 25 minute ferry ride to the largest of the Aran Islands. As a group we decided to rent bicycles so we could ride around the island. It was really the perfect day for us. It is the first day we haven't had a rain cloud hanging over our heads for an extended part of the day, so it really was perfect. Now, I'm in decent shape, but biking is something I haven't really done...well, since I was about 15. I picked it up pretty quickly, and we were off. Kevin, my roommate, and I split from the group after a little while and tooled around on our own. These are some of the many pictures we took today, and none of them do this gorgeous place justice. The cliffs were the really the last things we saw, and we definitely saved the best for last. We passed some of the group on our way up to the cliffs and in a very sarcastic tone, one of my other cottage-mates said, "It's definitely not the best thing I've every seen." I was pretty sure we were in for something special. It was truly amazing to see nothing but ocean for miles and miles from the edge of a 200 foot cliff, while the waves crashed into the facade. It was one of those special times in my life when I was simply amazed by God's wonder and presence in the world. I can only hope that I can have another experience of that magnitude by the end of this semester.

I really appreciate your interest in my life right now, and I always welcome prayers, because I know I can use as much as you are willing to give. We have another day long excursion tomorrow, which is likely to include me being on my feet all day; so, it looks like it's time go to bed. Don't get me wrong, I'll welcome this type of fatigue every day, if I can have the same experiences. However, I'm not sure if my roommates will be too happy if I wake up screaming with leg cramps. Oh well, you know what they say...when in Ireland... Just kidding, and don't worry, Laura, there's no saying like that here. :)

Sleep Deprived

Well, I made it to Ireland. If my math serves me correctly, which it doesn't very often, I started this craziness about 26 hours ago, when mom and dad drove me to the airport. It's been a whirlwind ever since.

I consider myself a relatively organized person, but apparently yesterday was an exception. During the past few days, I went from using a big suitcase, then switching to a smaller one, then back to the bigger one (with a little encouragement from a loving aunt), then to a the big one accompanied by a small duffel bag (with the encouragement from my loving mother). Needless to say, I was a bit fed up with the amount of time it took to pack.

Well, I got to Chicago with no problems, and there were 5 other members of my trip on the same flight. With a little help from a customer service rep, we found our terminal and we were ready to go through security. Of course, I was the only one who didn't receive a boarding pass in Minneapolis for my flight from Chicago to Ireland. Luckily, I had printed one off before I left, and used that. Apparently security people are a little particular about you having the right stuff, so he sent me back to Aer Lingus, the Irish airline, and made me get my boarding pass stamped to make it "official." Cool, no big deal. So I go back to security, get through no problem and... remember I haven't eaten since 1030 am. It's now 540pm. So, I'm about to say, "Whatever, I'll go back and get something and go through security for a second time. Then I remember someone telling me I needed to be at the gate at 550pm. So, I consider myself SOL, bite the bullet, and buy a pepsi, an apple juice, and some chips. Don't worry mom, that's what I eat for dinner all the time at school. So, I'm looking for the others, thinking they also are supposed to be at the gate, but of course, they aren't; they're eating, and getting their names called by Aer Lingus to come check-in. But, of course, they get there about 5 minutes before boarding, check in, and have their bellies full of food, happy as clams. So much for following directions.

I slept about an hour thanks to the Benedryl (thanks Terri) and was awoken by a heavenly voice: "We will be serving beef or chicken for dinner this evening." So by 8pm, my stomach finally forgave me. We rolled into Dublin at about 830am, waited a long hour and took off for the Shannon airport, on the other side of the country. While we were falling asleep walking to the baggage claim, I couldn't help but think how ironic it would be if that second bag, that was not supposed to be part of the equation in the first place, didn't make it to Shannon. Well tip your cap and call me Nostradamus, ladies and gentlemen, because that's exactly what happened. I'll keep you posted on that situation.

So, after a two hour bus ride to our little cottages on the outskirts of a town called Spiddal, we made it. No, we didn't bring any dry or warm weather with us, but we're happy, though a little tired, nonetheless. It's almost 9pm here, and after a long 2 or 3 mile walk into town in the rain, I'm about ready to hit the hay. Oh yeah, my rain gear is in the other bag... I'm sure it will only get better for me in this beautiful country, and I am excited for everything to come! Cheers!