Wednesday Night in Ireland

Sorry, my brain is in no state today to think up things to write. But the blog has been negleted these past few days so I thought a post today needed to be written. Been humdrum settling into life here, taking it easy and writing a lot, then last night was all about madness and debauchery. I partied like only the Irish can party. Oh it was spectacular craic! Trad music at the Persian and whompin' rock and roll at chez Marty. Hung out with some of the finest people in the world. It was an all-singing all-dancing revue. Stumbled home round about 6am, the ipod playing me some good walking tunes of Dixie Chicks and Fratellis. Class. However, you do the crime you gotta do the time, and it's hard to be awake today. The good news was that I didn't work until 12:30. The bad news is that there's an upstairs to the cafe and all day long my legs felt jellified and I was sure I was going to either drop something or collapse. I did neither! Score.

So that's really all the news here.

Oh, and I'm going to Croatia, but that's not until October.

Monster Trucks!

Last night was the great Carndonagh Monster Truck Rally! It was great fun but the vehicle my team had was RUBBISH! I actually want one if I ever have any kids - that thing was a workout to ride! Our team only got it around the diamond twice (you were supposed to go around three times). The winning team had done it's three rounds by the time I was half-way round our second. I question the legitimacy of the winning team's vehicle though, it was pretty hardcore, more like the reclining bikes I see sometimes in Seattle rather than anything you'd see a kid riding. All in good fun though. Due to the nature of how one sits in the vehicle I was riding and the shortness of my costume I think I ended up flashing every child in Carndonagh, typical American. The evening did, however, produce what it probably the hotest picture of me ever, and two of the scariest pictures of Marty Kelly ever. Regard...

This is a pic of a few of the teams, I think there were maybe 10 or so in all. Dracula was one of my teammates!

Painting, Poems, Chinese Food and Spiders

Yesterday I helped Marty Kelly paint the entryway of his brother's house. It was the first time I've seen him paint. It was spectacular. It was this crazy abstract of a single yellow color around all the walls. Breathtaking. And by "helped" I mean sat and yaked and read him a poem about wasps. Then we listened to a song about a washing machine and I took it upon us to write a poem about a Tumble Dryer. It will follow below. Suddenly we realized the lateness of the hour and had to make a a dash to the chinese food take away. It was 10:15 at night and this chinese food place was hopping! But it was the only place you could get wine after 10 so we opted for that rather than the veg burgers and fries we were gonna make. So we chowed on chinese food and watch the Big Brother eviction. Big Brother here is a legend and it shows every night. Crazy. And finally the spider. So Marty Kelly is deathy afraid of spiders, and this morning when he was sweeping up he uncovered a rather large specimen. But with the help of my keen mind I set up a plan! The spider was hiding underneath the sofa in a room next to the now yellow entryway. I devised a plan wherein Marty stood on one of the seats in the living room and heaved the couch. I, holding the boom aloft, spotted the spider and swept it out the front door, and as per Marty's instructions, "as far away as I could get it". Phew. Close call.

And now - some classy poetry!!!!

Ode To A Tumble Dryer, With The Help Of Marty Kelly

Tumble Dryer you broke my heart
For years you spun my garments dry
One time I left you on too long and the heat was intense
I was chafed for days
And I cried silently with the washing machine
The toaster laughed and mocked me
English muffins never tasted the same again, not even with gooseberry jam
Especially with gooseberry jam
But now you lay cold and untumbling
There is something inside of you that I can’t fix
I cleaned out your lint trap
I changed the fuses
And still you remain silent, sullen
I called the repairman for help
But your parts are too old, unavailable
Tumble Dryer believe me I tried my hardest to fix you
Thank you for the years of toasty clothes
But the garbage truck is rumbling down the street
And it’s time
It’s time

Yeah, most of my poems are actually loads better than this, but in a strange way, I am rather fond of this one. I think it would probably work well as a country song.

Greetings y'all

Good craic last night at The Persian; excellent music, a roaring fire, three pints of Guinness, a shot of whiskey, a trio of French girls and a mandolin player from Nashville! Yowza! Somehow, cowboy boots and big metal belt buckle included, one of the band members touring with Justin Earle (son of Steve Earle) ended up at The Persian last night. I thought he was kidding when he said he was from Nashville! We bonded over tales of Seattle and The Tractor (a local Seattle music venue). I have him to thank for the third pint of Guinness and the whiskey, and without him I may have actually been able to wake up today without the room spinning. Thank you Cory. Show your support for some boys from Nashville, the new album is called The Good Life, and I endorse it whole-heartedly even though I've never heard it. Well I listened to a few songs on MySpace and thoroughly enjoyed them. Contrary to what you may be thinking, the title does not refer to yours truly. Though perhaps I should adpot it as my theme song.

The French girls there were couchsurfing with Marty Kelly. It was raining and Marty gave them all fancy dress hats to wear, which made things amusingly surreal; three french girls walking around wearing funny hats in a crowded Irish pub called The Persian. Priceless.

Ah, the good life ;)

Fancy Dress = costume

So the big fun this Saturday night is the Carndonagh Monster Truck Rally, which is actually not what it sounds. Rather, teams of three "kidults" race around the center of town (called The Diamond as it is diamond shaped) riding on tricycles in what everyone kept telling me was "fancy dress." I was gung-ho from the start, and even though I wondered why one would want to wear their fancy clothes to an outdoor race at night, I kept making a note in my head to go out one day and find a posh looking fancy outfit to wear. So last night I was mentioning to my housemate and her friend that I didn't have anything to wear for the event, and the two of them assured me that they had plenty I could wear - a hippie coustume, an Elvis costume, a cat costume... It was at this point that I began to suspect that something was fishy, and the connections began to leap together in my brain. "I'm going to take a wild stab here," I ventured. "Does "fancy dress" mean costume?" At which point they looked at me like I'd just asked what a potato was. Turns out, yes, the term "fancy dress" refers not to swanky posh outfits, but rather to costumes. And now I know.

Tonight is traditional Irish music night at one of the local pubs, The Persian. Trust me, I've had endless revelry and delight from the irony of traditional Irish music being played in a pub called The Persian. Most of the group that plays every wed. night are sisters of the two amazing women who own the cafe, and I got to hear a little of it when last I was here but it was late by then I was already a few sheets to the wind, so it'll be extra nice hearing them tonight from the very beginning and *realitivly* sober.

Yesterday was the first fairly nice day since I've arrived, and I thought how nice it would be to sit out in the sun with a book and get some fresh air and read. So after my shift eating cereal was over I wandered down to the local little bookshop and proceded to waste almost the rest of the day wandering around the shop, getting totally lost in all the great stuff they had that you don't normally see in an American book store. My quest to buy one book ended with me leaving burdened with the weight of ten, and the anticipation of many grey days spent by the fire with a cup of tea and my imagination. Always a dangerous combo.

And my last thoughts of the day have been about how strange it's been to basically pull up out of one life and replace it with such a similar one thousands of miles away. It's like a Twilight Zone episode. Everything is so oddly similar and yet so vastly different - even the weather! Like I've woken up in a parallel universe. Everything seems like a rough copy of my life back in Seattle, which, sigh, does not bode well for my love life! Ah well, at least I've got my books... and my poetry to protect me ;)

Scotland Options

So while I'm here I'm hoping to get up tp Scotland for a while. There is a tentative plan to climb Ben Nevis, but other than that I've no idea of what to do. I'm not into big cities, I'd much rather explore the countryside, which does prove difficult when you have to rely on public transportation. So I just thought I'd ask the blog and see if anyone reading has any reccomendations for places to go and things to see. You can either reply in the comments section or you can e-mail me at ratempress@comcast.net

Thanks y'all.

Address

Oh yeah, and should anyone like to send me any tibits or treasures, well, firstly be warned that it costs A LOT of money to post things to Ireland, but feel free to send as much as you like as it'll make me feel loved. Give it about, oh say, one or two more days before the honesickness descends and I'll probably really need all the love I can get!

Allison Cossitt
29 Cedar Grove
Carndonagh
Co. Donegal
Ireland

Alternatively you can send me e-mails of well-wishing as they will be much appreciated and free!