So I leave for Galway tomorrow, spending the weekend there and returning to Carn Tuesday night, where I spend a scant three nights of my weekly rent before packing off to Scotland. I’m excited for Galway, everyone I’ve talked to says is quite high on the loveliness meter, and I’ve lined up two couchsurfing hosts to give me a place to lay my head and hopefully show me around a bit! Yipee! It’ll be nice as I’ve finally started to settle into my rhythm here in Carn, and the homesickness is creeping in juuuuuust a tad. A little distraction will be much welcomed. Cept then I think about how much I’d love it if my friends and family were here with me!
I find myself daydreaming about voice acting lately. I had been feeling a little down on myself in the past few months for putting it all on hold to gallivant around the world. It’s hard to differentiate between genuinely needing to wait until I’m actually in one place for more than several months at a time and just plain fear of the unknown and the unwillingness to schmooze. The thought of voice acting is so exciting and interesting to me, but the thought of everything I have to do to realize it turns my stomach. Get a headshot printed, get an agent, schmooze and schmooze and schmooze! Bah! Plus I don’t really know how to get it all off the ground, which has been my problem most recently. I’ve kept myself going with the mantra “when the student is ready, the master will appear.” I’ve been waiting for the master to appear for sometime now, someone who can guide me through the initial muck of getting all this started. True, I worked with a voice acting coach for some months and she helped a lot, but it seems like just when I needed her, right at the end, she practically vanished. Now I’m all nervous to contact her again to ask for more info and help – I think it’ll worry her that I’ll be so out of practice while representing her if I suddenly try to launch into the VA scene. Sigh, I dunno. I find that I’ll get so excited at the thought of actually doing the voice acting, but then I get deterred thinking of all the crap I have to go through to get there, but then I get spurred on by how fun it would be, then I get deterred again. Ah what a vicious cycle! Well hopefully I’ll be in the right mindset when I get back to Seattle that I’ll actually get off my butt and do it! Boo-ya!
So the internet connection at the café is becoming notoriously fickle, and so I usually type the blogs in MSWord and then cut and paste. Today is no exception, and yup, as I was gonna post this – no dice! The internet is down down down! Which stinks as there is actually a fair bit I need to be dong on-line. Shazbut. Hmm, is there anything else about Ireland that I can share?
Well I must admit, being a huge Fratellis fan, it is really cool to actually hear their songs a lot on the radio, well, really on the radio at all, as I don’t think I’ve ever heard one of their songs coming through the waves in the US.
There’s so many tempting carb bombs here. If I really want to make myself crazy I stroll through the baked goods section of one of the local supermarkets. Holy cow the white flour and sugar mecca! The temptation to go on a simple carb bender has been hovering over my shoulder like an attention-seeking budgie for the past three weeks.
So we have washing machine at my house – no coins required!!! – which is keen, but we lack a tumble dryer. Now, I’ve often thought about how nice it would be to have the option of line-drying my clothes, as there is something lovely about line-dried clothes and it is good for the environment. Yet this pampered American has to admit that ONLY having the line is cause for frustration, especially in Ireland’s fickle weather! If it looks like a perfectly beautiful morning, you can usually bet that by afternoon it will have rained at least twice. Ok maybe that’s a biiiiiit of an exaggeration but really there is no telling what the weather will do one minute to the next. One day, when I got home from work it was gorgeous out and I decided to do a load of laundry. By the time the laundry was done, there were somewhat ominous clouds hovering overhead, and by the time I took my clothes back inside from the line they were soaked through due to the sudden downpour. The hardest part was the towel, which, two days later, still isn’t very dry. Trying to towel off after a shower in a chilly room with a damp towel is definitely not the most super-duper thing I’ve done here, no. But hey – makes for a good tale, no?
