Inaugural

Captains Log October 13 2017

Originally I wrote this on October 13th, but I couldn’t decide on a suitable name for the blog so it sat idle as I struggled in silence.  Settling on a blog name probably gave me more anxiety than any decision I’ve ever made in my entire life.  The struggle to find a balance between a great stalwart like the classic raunchy name and a lame but family friendly name.  The early favorite was “Bloggy Style”, followed closely by “Fish and shit my pants”.  It took a lot of self control, but I reluctantly removed them from the list.  The next on the list was “Starch trek the final frontier” but that was a little wordy and I felt like a joke a 70 year old with high cholesterol would say.  I finally settled on “Hair of the Blog”. I like to think of it as the mullet of blog names; simple, but still gets the job done.

Weeks 1 - 2

Once I landed in Dublin, I realized that I was completely unprepared for my time in Ireland.  When I unpacked I question my sanity, and I couldn't comprehend what was going through my mind during the packing process.  In the first of my two suitcases there were 4 towels, two wash cloths, two pairs of shorts, twelve t-shirts, three bathing suits, flip flops, and no rain jacket.  The weather never goes above 70 degrees, it rains roughly every 6 hours, and towels are cheaper than water. 

It took about a week to find a place to live. It’s on the dodgey end of town about twenty minutes from campus, but it does the job.  Dublin is incredible.  There is a pub every 50 feet, and everyone loves to drink.  Like everywhere else, some pubs are better than others, but they all tend to have the same feel: lots of dark stained wood, ample couch and cushioned seating areas, candles burning dangerously low, dim lighting to make the women look better, and if you're lucks a fully functional fireplace.  I’ve hit about 20-25 different pubs so far, and they all have their own feel.  The first time I walked into Kehoes I told myself “I’m gonna spend every dollar I have at this pub”.  I’ve come close, but I still have a long way to go.  (Stags Head Pub Pictured right)

The Irish sporting culture is also really different from ours.  Their teams are made up of ordinary people who have ordinary jobs, and they play for their county.  People go nuts for this stuff and the entire city shuts down when their team is playing.  There aren't any games during the week, everything is limited to Saturday and Sunday.  Gaelic football might be the greatest sport ever invented.  It almost seems like they took every sport and put it together but somehow this sport was invented first. It's essentially full contact handball with an added soccer element.  The Gaelic football championship game was played in Dublin in my second week here.  The stadium sold out in twenty minutes and the streets were packed with drunks. (Picture from my classmate below) Its a professional sport but the teams are limited geographically, meaning you can only play for the county you were born in.  Most would assume that Dublin county would have a clear advantage because of the number of people born in Dublin, but most of the Dublin kids play soccer and rugby because those sports pay. Gaelic football only pays the formal currency of pride and glory.  The kids from the farms on the west coast literally dream about playing for their county team and want nothing more than to beat the shit out of those rich spoiled kids from Dublin.

The introduction week, which I thought was in a castle on the west coast, was actually in a tiny summer camp on the west coast (in the middle of nowhere).  The west coast of Ireland is the "Ireland" that most people imagine when they think of moving here.  The greenest grass you’ve ever seen, rolling hills, the rocky coast of the rough Atlantic in one direction, and a wind swept bay on the other.  There are more sheep than people, and the people seem like they're 10 decades behind us.  I actually wouldn’t be surprised if they still used scores as an acceptable way to measure the passing of time.  Everyone speaks Gaelic, which is incomprehensible even to the Irish.  I honestly don’t know how they communicated when that was the only language.  None of the words sound the way they are spelled, and the accents are so thick it just sounds like they're wasted.  There was only one pub in the entire town, and all the old people out there assumed I spoke Gaelic.  All I could do was nod, smile and point to my Guinness to signal I wanted a refill. 

Pictures from the west coast: 

          Most of the things we did in Maigh Eo (the west coast retreat center -pronounced “Mayo”) were team building activities and ice breakers.  We went sailing on the bay and surfing in the Atlantic.  The water was 52 degree and my balls still haven't settled back into place, but I’ll probably never have the chance to surf out there again.  Every night the bus would take us out to the only pub in town and we would all get wasted.  The pub probably met their quota for the year with the number of people they had to serve during our week there.  Every night they would give you the option to take the bus back or walk the three mile journey home, and everyone always took the bus.  On the last night, a group of four of us figured we would skip the bus and close down he bar.  We drank for the next few hours and talked it up with the locals and then the bar tender said she would drive us home so we wouldn't have to walk all that way at 2am.  She left the keys for the locals and told them to keep an eye on the bar while she drove us home.

Weeks 3 - 4

School has been surprisingly hard.  We have these massive projects due every week, and I want to murder who ever thought implementing a “business ethics” class into a program was a good idea.  The world the business ethics lovers live in doesn't exist.   My teacher probably thinks I’m a criminal or will eventually launder money, because I cant hide my disdain for her course.  All of the other classes are great.  The accents are incredible and literally make anything sound like  a good idea.  Even when they insult you, you almost want to thank them.  

Now that I’ve been here for a while, I can definitively say the food sucks.  I eat kabab’s, burritos, Irish stew or shepherds pie and thats as diverse as it gets.   All of the really nice places are way out of my price range, and sushi doesn’t go well with Guinness.  I will give them points for creativity with the potato because they are wizards with the way they’re able to slide it into your meal, but theres only so many ways you can hide it.  My fiber levels and B6 intake are probably through the roof right now, but I’m actually starting to hate potatoes on an emotional level.  They put mayo on everything.  They don’t believe in ranch dressing.  Their barbecue sauce tastes like ketchup and maple syrup.  They have completely different Dorito flavors.  No chipotle, no five guys, no Pepe Rosso.  Honestly if it wasn’t for the beer everything would taste like shit. 

I’ll be home on December 16th but I’ll hopefully have another update before then. 

Song of the week: Keep the customer satisfied - Simon and Garfunkel 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qx6_0Do0qGQ