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[personal profile] roverandom
I'm feeling really low and mellow right now because I just watched this sad music video. It was lovely to see [livejournal.com profile] neytaritook this evening, though. She is lovely. But here is my last entry that I wrote in my travel journal about my spring break experience. It seems so far away, that's so weird...

22 April

I am now at the Chicago O'Hare airport, sadly out of Ireland for probably awhile. I would like to tell you about our evening last night, our last evening in Dublin, and I shall entitle this evening "The night of many friendly Irish men (or how it's very obvious that we're American!)." Seriously. They just can tell. They smell us come in the room or something. I mean, I can usually tell what people are European, but...I don't think I could distinguish whether they were Scottish or English. Well, maybe...
Anyway, so yeah all the friendly (or lonely) guys were out last night. First, we went to O'Donoghue's after dinner and it was packed. I mean, it's a small pub, you 'd think the virgin mary had appeared in a pint of Guinness (now there's an advertising campaign -- blessed by the holy mother herself). We could barely move, or even breathe, and yet, we were singled out. Kirsten had two older-middle aged guys stop the flow of traffic to talk to her, and when I moved up close to see the badn play (there were eleven people playing!), I looked down for one small instant and caught the line of vision of one of the players. A younger, maybe low thirties aged guy who I quickly learned played the banjo. Not a split second after I looked down, he gave me a beckoning "come hither" sign with his index finger. This was somewhat disturbing, but nevermind. I bent over and asked, "Am I in your way?" to which he replied "No. Can you sing?"
Well. Of all the things to ask, this was not what I was expecting. Flabergasted, I replied that I could but wondered why the devil he would want to know. He said that it was so I could be accompanied by the badn as I sang an "American song" in order to get the full Irish pub experience. Again, this proposition threw me for a loop. The conversation (since I am a nerd and like to record dialogue) went something like this:

"What American song will you play?"

"Well you have thousands of them, just pick one!"

"Um."

"Just think about it. You've come all this way from what-?"

"California"

[impressed nod from Irish guy]

"See? All the way from the West Coast to Ireland, so you should have a great time!" (this is the gist of what he said)

"But, I came to Ireland to hear Irish music; it's not about American music."

"Well of course we'll play traditional Irish music, but we can also honor some American music. What's your name?"

"Rachel."

"Are you pulling my leg?"

"What?!"

"Rachel is an Irish name [at this I was thinking, no, it's Hebrew, but whatever...] so I thought you were lying to me!"

"Why would I lie to you? Why would I lie to such a handsome Irish man?" [at this, he laughed, but it was true. He had dark hair and very blue eyes. And that accent! Very droolworthy indeed. I admit, I took my chance to flirt/flatter here] "What's your name?"

"Brian. B-r-i-a-n [I don't know why he spelled it. I normally spell Brian this way.]. Not the Anglicized version. Brian is a celtic name."

"What do you play?"

"Banjo." [then proceeded to show off said banjo]

"Oh cool."

[pause]

"Well Rachel, you look great, so think about singing and we'll call you back up here."

Again, I was flattered by all of this but I relaly don't think my voice had the gusto needed to carry through the room. And, it was so crowded, so we left and went to the Brazen Head. There, we sat by this cute German guy (and by cute I mean, nice and friendly, but definitely not the dark handsome type like Brian) named Kyle. He was also very talktative and talked to me most of the time (well, cuz I was right by him and I was interested in how he ended up in Ireland). Apparently he lives in Dublin, but not permanently. He wants to go to Australia, so I told him about me going there. We talked about traveling and Germany. He had heard of Wolfsheim (LOL) but said American Hip Hop is more popular in clubs. Weird. He said he liked how Irish peole are so laid back and good natured and he wished Germans were more like that. I thought that was really interesting of him to say. Again, he was super nice (supertoll, lol). I almost gave him my e-mail address so he could get more info about traveling in California (he wanted to go to the US as well as Australia).
After the Brazen Head (which was kinda slow), we headed across the street to O'Sheas Merchant Pub (which one of the guys in O'Donoghue's fondly dubbed "Jurassic Park") where they were supposed to have Irish dancing at midnight. They did have dancing all right, but it was not Irish. This was ironic because our cab driver was lamenting the fact that Irish dancing is not really kept up in Dublin. They played country music (the extremity of this insult is so much that I cannot put it to words. Country. The audacity.) and people swayed, jerked, or waddled back and forth and then called it dancing. No. No. No. NOT ALLOWED. On the other hand, drunken dancing people make excellent entertainment. For awhile anyway. Kirsten knew a couple line dances so I did some with her. At one part, she squatted down really low, but found that her thighs were really sore so she couldn't quite get back up. Thankfully I was following from behind so I was able to catch her. It was quite a save.

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Rachel

September 2007

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