In general, the people in Ireland are nice. Revision: people in general are nice.
The time away from the hustle and bustle that is my life in Colorado has given me a chance to reflect on the nature of human beings. Note that this phrase here takes the meaning of "Be a lazy-ass sloth who sits around and watches people in public areas." I know what you're thinking, "You're in Ireland! Go out! Drink! Enjoy the setting!" That sounds like a grand plan but I'll tell you this: going out and enjoying things is a lot of work. Especially when you're traveling alone. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy traveling here by myself, it has given me ample time to get down and dirty with my work and really write and plan for next year. Again, this phrase here takes the meaning of "Watching TV shows on the computer while laying in bed." I'm complicated.
Anyway, back to people. Expecting the best in people may be naive but it's better than going around miserable about the people that we are forced to share the planet with. People in Ireland are particularly nice and welcoming if it gives any cynics out there a chance for hope. For example, while walking around the campus of National University of Ireland, Galway I happened upon some graffiti. By its definition meant to be vandalism, the effectiveness of this kind of self-expression has always eluded me. However, this graffiti (written in spray-paint) simply said: YOU'RE AMAZING. Written directly below that in what appeared to black ink were the words "Thank You." I stopped, did the customary double-take, smiled and kept walking.
Message from the universe or just some peace-loving college kid looking to make a splash? Either way it made me smile.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Greetings from Ireland!
This blog is taking a turn.
A turn from being a foray into the 20-something experience to being a blog about the TRAVEL experiences of a 20-something. Some of the same questions still apply...do I have my baggage? Do I need baggage? (Metaphor there. Catch it?)
I recently arrived in Galway, Ireland to do a little schooling. (As if I don't do enough of that already.) There's a program here in Irish Studies that seemed right up my dissertation's alley. And let's face it, if my dissertation likes it: I likes it. So far, I faced a bout of homesickness that was felt because I spent my first night all alone. (Insert sad refrain here) But now that classes have officially begun, I think things will begin to turn around. Let me also say that my naming of this blog has been reaffirmed by my host mother. Here's our conversation this morning post-breakfast
Her: What's your age?
Me: (not understanding a freakin' word she just said, waits a moment)
Her: (stares at me)
Me: I'm sorry, what?
Her: (slowing down so the stupid American can understand) What is your age?
Me: Oh, 24.
Her: That's about what I thought, but you speak much more maturely.
Me: I get that a lot.
Here's what she said to me following a bit of cleaning up and her showing me around:
Her: (hands me a set of keys) Now you can come and go as you please. I do ask that you don't bring any strangers into the house...You know, beautiful ladies of the night. Or beautiful men of the night, whatever you prefer.
Apparently in Ireland, I exude homosexuality like a broken BP oil well.
Ireland is a pleasant country with overall pleasant people. This program, however, is made up of mostly American undergraduate students which may as well be me sticking bamboo shoots underneath my fingernails. Perhaps this is a human condition that I need to be cured of: I judge people very quickly and am usually surprised when they turn out to be something other than what I initially thought. Solution? Stop judging. Likelihood? Not great.
More stories, musings and quips to come from Galway.
A turn from being a foray into the 20-something experience to being a blog about the TRAVEL experiences of a 20-something. Some of the same questions still apply...do I have my baggage? Do I need baggage? (Metaphor there. Catch it?)
I recently arrived in Galway, Ireland to do a little schooling. (As if I don't do enough of that already.) There's a program here in Irish Studies that seemed right up my dissertation's alley. And let's face it, if my dissertation likes it: I likes it. So far, I faced a bout of homesickness that was felt because I spent my first night all alone. (Insert sad refrain here) But now that classes have officially begun, I think things will begin to turn around. Let me also say that my naming of this blog has been reaffirmed by my host mother. Here's our conversation this morning post-breakfast
Her: What's your age?
Me: (not understanding a freakin' word she just said, waits a moment)
Her: (stares at me)
Me: I'm sorry, what?
Her: (slowing down so the stupid American can understand) What is your age?
Me: Oh, 24.
Her: That's about what I thought, but you speak much more maturely.
Me: I get that a lot.
Here's what she said to me following a bit of cleaning up and her showing me around:
Her: (hands me a set of keys) Now you can come and go as you please. I do ask that you don't bring any strangers into the house...You know, beautiful ladies of the night. Or beautiful men of the night, whatever you prefer.
Apparently in Ireland, I exude homosexuality like a broken BP oil well.
Ireland is a pleasant country with overall pleasant people. This program, however, is made up of mostly American undergraduate students which may as well be me sticking bamboo shoots underneath my fingernails. Perhaps this is a human condition that I need to be cured of: I judge people very quickly and am usually surprised when they turn out to be something other than what I initially thought. Solution? Stop judging. Likelihood? Not great.
More stories, musings and quips to come from Galway.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Very First Post
The Mr. Joe Ordinary who stumbles upon this blog probably cannot help but wonder, "Old soul? WTF is up with that?" This, of course, assumes that Mr. Joe Ordinary is a 20-something millennial like myself. I admit that I usually do not care for using such labels as "Millennial", "Gen X-er" or what have you. I tend to think that labels like that create an immediate, stereotypical image in the mind of whomever may be reading or hearing them. All of that aside, I have chosen the title of this blog since this term has been used to describe me on more than one occasion. I've been given other less-friendly titles in my time but I will refrain from mentioning those...right now.
I would hate to think that writing this blog is a venture on my part to become known or offer unwanted advice to others who may be in a similar position as myself. Instead, I write of my exploits simply to write about them. I have a number of viewpoints and paradigms in my life; almost my own personal version of multiple personality disorder. I see the world through a variety of colored lenses...some more dingy and dark while others are rose colored in which all in the world is right.
My impetus for beginning comes from reading another blog about the "TWENTY-SOMETHING EXPERIENCE." Being a 24 year old man, I often find myself pondering in my various situations, "Is this normal? Do other people my age deal with this kind of stuff? Do others have these thoughts?" Now, I know what you're thinking: "Oh boy, another twenty-something who is in the midst of his soul-searching journey." NOT TRUE. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth.
The low-down, hard-nosed truth is that although I feel great most of the time, I cannot help but feel that I am missing something. I feel that sometimes I may be too old for my age. (That's how I came up with the title of the blog! Insight.) Perhaps I am missing the drama and self-loathing that I see most people my age experiencing at this point in their lives. Re-read that last statement. Still weird? Yeah I see it, too. Why on Earth would I want to have that generic "twenty-something-wandering-in-a-dark-room-lost-groping-the-walls-trying-to-find-something-to-hold-onto" kind of nausea? It seems that I have a terrible habit of asking questions that are unanswerable.
This premiere post is merely intended to introduce the type of babble and writing that you are bound to experience if you decide to keep reading. The stories that follow are indeed true and all fit into the questions that permeate the fabric of my everyday being. Now that I think of it, I don't think it's merely my experience but human experience in general. Perhaps my stories can all learn something together. Or we can just get together and laugh at this journey that we're all on. Either way, it promises to be fun.
I would hate to think that writing this blog is a venture on my part to become known or offer unwanted advice to others who may be in a similar position as myself. Instead, I write of my exploits simply to write about them. I have a number of viewpoints and paradigms in my life; almost my own personal version of multiple personality disorder. I see the world through a variety of colored lenses...some more dingy and dark while others are rose colored in which all in the world is right.
My impetus for beginning comes from reading another blog about the "TWENTY-SOMETHING EXPERIENCE." Being a 24 year old man, I often find myself pondering in my various situations, "Is this normal? Do other people my age deal with this kind of stuff? Do others have these thoughts?" Now, I know what you're thinking: "Oh boy, another twenty-something who is in the midst of his soul-searching journey." NOT TRUE. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth.
The low-down, hard-nosed truth is that although I feel great most of the time, I cannot help but feel that I am missing something. I feel that sometimes I may be too old for my age. (That's how I came up with the title of the blog! Insight.) Perhaps I am missing the drama and self-loathing that I see most people my age experiencing at this point in their lives. Re-read that last statement. Still weird? Yeah I see it, too. Why on Earth would I want to have that generic "twenty-something-wandering-in-a-dark-room-lost-groping-the-walls-trying-to-find-something-to-hold-onto" kind of nausea? It seems that I have a terrible habit of asking questions that are unanswerable.
This premiere post is merely intended to introduce the type of babble and writing that you are bound to experience if you decide to keep reading. The stories that follow are indeed true and all fit into the questions that permeate the fabric of my everyday being. Now that I think of it, I don't think it's merely my experience but human experience in general. Perhaps my stories can all learn something together. Or we can just get together and laugh at this journey that we're all on. Either way, it promises to be fun.
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