26 December 2006

ho ho ho!

So, I'm slacker-ific and haven't updated here - but I don't know if anyone reads this now that I'm in the States again.

Lots is going on: Seattle had a snowstorm (miraculously scary roads), a windstorm that took my power out for a week (woop!), and I've been travelling here and there.

So anyone who reads this that normally gets a Christmas card from me, they're in my room but didn't get written during the power outtage and since I leave for Ireland in 2 days for a week's vacation, they'll be New Year's cards you'll receive in the New Year. Like I said, I'm slacker-ific!!

Spent Christmas Eve Wii-ing on the roomie's new Nintendo Wii and Christmas day with family. Went to New York for Thanksgiving, went hiking in Rainier and was in VA hiking this fall and I'm heading to Dublin for New Year's. I've never stayed still - you're surprised why?

Hrmmmmm.... to blog or not to blog. Should I restart telling my stories here about downed trees and people doing 360s on the roads in front of me, and random crazy travels like the fact that in Jan, Feb & Mar I'm spending an entire week out of the country - 3 countries vacationed in in 3 months (Ireland, Mexico, Canada).

Cheers and Happy Holidays!!!

12 October 2006

hi ho - hi ho - it's off on vacation I go

So, my wirlwind of one-trip-per-month commences. This weekend's 4 day installment is my flight to/from DC to visit a good friend there and go bask in mountainy glory with good hiking, pretty foliage, excellent company, good food, and yummy drinks to end the day in a fabulous hot tub.

Yes, I need a vacation. Work's been one lil' bundle of stress lately so I was looking at this vacation as the time that would never come. But it's here!!!

Ok, so I've gotta go tie up some loose ends from work but I'm all packed and just antsy to get on the plane now.

Pretty East Coast Foliage and great great friend - here I come!!!

Although I lack the ability to pack light. I always pack just what will fit in my suitcase and I decided since I ain't carryin' the puppy to not go with my carry-on-sized rollybag because of my need for toiletries. Meaning, I managed to bring more crap. Go me!

07 October 2006

songs you don't sing loud with the car windows down

So, one of my coworkers leant me a CD by the artist Deirdre Flint. This CD is absolutely hysterical.

Last night driving home on empty interstates, I was singing along with a few of the songs - notably the first I sang with was "The Cheerleader" which is highly entertaining.

And then one came on that I'd had on repeat earlier in the day when I needed some giggles: "The Boob Fairy." Yes, I'm really not kidding you, there is a song entitled "The Boob Fairy." I'd pick the highlights of the lyrics for your reading approval, but really, there are no particular highlights - it's just all hysterical.... Although as Deirdre says in her own song it's just a metaphor:
This isn't a song about boobs. Not really. The boobs are just a set of metaphors to symbolize everyone's fear of human inadequacy. Hey! We've all felt the pain of being dissed by one fairy or another, so during the next refrain I want you to join in with your own fairy that never paid a call. Maybe it's the height fairy or the butt nymph. Men, maybe it's the pectoral or hair fairy or maybe some other fairy you just want to mumble about. Look, nobody's going to ask you to enunciate. And sisters, I don't want you feeling alienated because you happen to be full-figured. Just change the line to the boob fairy wouldn't let me be or the boob fairy became obsessed with me. Okay, here comes the refrain. Everybody join in.

I must say that I love driving on an empty highway and singing - it feels so free! And when I'm having a craptastic day, I sing lots. Granted, last night when I was singing this on my way home I was finally far enough away from the crap to be having a good day - but a gal can always use a bit of a laugh.... Because although this song might not apply to every female - especially not me - well, c'mon - you know you want to sing a song that ends with:
The boob fairy never came for me
No the boob fairy never came for me
Though the hip fairy came two times
and the thigh fairy came three
The boob fairy never came for me.

02 October 2006

never judge a girl by her hair color

So I was waiting for the movie I was going to see last night (Little Miss Sunshine) - and it was starting later than advertised, so I stepped into the bar across the way from the theater. It was a pretty swanktastic lil' bar so I got a girlie drink to pass the hour I had to spare.

A little bit after I arrived, a nice looking guy approached me at the bar to say hi. We started chatting, and I was entertained by being hit on in a swanky bar with all the pretty people around, but didn't think much of it. However, the conversation will have me laughing for a long long time.

Let's just say he's new in town because he works "in technology." And apparently he wouldn't go into detail about what technology is because I "wouldn't get it." So mystery mystery mystery... I mean, a girl sitting at the bar with a cocktail in hand must never be able to understand anything about technology!

Except, when returning the "what do you do for a living?" questions in my direction, I was the painfully point-out-you-just-made-a-fool-of-yourself girl who said "oh, I work in technology. And apparently it's this mysterious field that I might not understand."

He looked abashed and I continued "I mean, if you want to judge a book by her cover, then I guess I couldn't really do tech."

"Oh, so do you work in marketing for Microsoft?"

DINGDINGDING! We have a winner boys and girls!!!

"Actually, I'm a software developer who didn't sell her soul to Microsoft." (as I thought to myself "how's your foot tasting? would you like some vinegar to make it taste a lil' better?")

He was a really nice guy and all that - I mean, for a guy walking up to me randomly in the bar, I could've done far far worse. But damn, that was just too funny. At least he made himself memorable even if I did taunt him with his assumptions all night when he was so excited that he could not edit himself to talk about tech gadgets and such.

Apparently women don't go for geek guys. Apparently I look like a ditzy blonde.

Hrmmmm....... Now aren't all of you out there who know me and the oddity of this situation giggling? I mean, this is far too funny for words.

19 September 2006

step away from the hand eating machine

Yes, I'm blogging from work; yes, this is not an appropriate use of work time except I'm waiting for about 3 different things to finish and can't handle anymore tasks simultaneously in the workspace of my brain.

So, as I mentioned earlier I made my decision about which team to work for, and I find it absolutely fascinating but maybe that's just the geekette in me.

I'm getting out of the world of placing an order (cart, checkout, etc) to move to the world of fulfilling an order. In specific, I'm writing software designed to make everything flow through the systems and get from the people picking the stuff off the shelves out the door to the trucks waiting to deliver it to our wonderful customers. In other words: packing.

It's completely different compared to what I've spent the past 2+ years of my career here doing and I figured I'd go for it. I mean, who doesn't want to travel to Kentucky or Nevada or Tokyo to see different fulfillment centers and look at machines and try them out? I know I certainly wanna see how factories process boxes and talk about glue temperatures in meetings and how to regulate them via software. I really do find the entire process management aspect fascinating.

So it's not something you can see anymore like when I setup the messages and shut off ordering to Louisianna after Hurricane Katrina on the customer facing website, but every day software that I write will go into effect making sure our boxes are packed with the right stuff on time.

But if we get your shrinkwrap wrong, or we put things in way too big of a box, or give you the wrong packing slip - please, for the love of Yvette - don't let me know unless we do it repeatedly! I'm not the one who's there getting my hands stuck in machines.

The way I ended my lunch meeting with my manager's manager today was with her saying "oh, good, then you know how to deal with childlike people who are tempted to stick their fingers in the electrical outlets to see if they're working." Bloody brilliant!

17 September 2006

how to focus on food for 7.5 hours straight

Apparently it's impossible to pick your own apples in the state of Washington which seems mildly wrong considering the location - but it did make for a good adventure yesterday. I went out with some friends thinking that the farm that said you could pick apples would let you pick apples - they did, from a bin.

So instead we went into their lil' Ma 'n' Pa garden and did some good old veggie picking: string beans, purple broccoli, some random radish, purple potatos, garlic and carrots. We also went bin diving for some apples. And then on the way home, grab some chicken and the makings for the pie crust, etc.

Then you go home and wash, chop, stir, peel, boil, bake, talk about baking and cooking, stir, fry, sautee, steam, etc. And eventually you end up with the most sinfully delicious dinner ever followed by one of the best apple pies ever.

I have never seen that many purple veggies - the potatos and cauliflower were fascinating to me especially since they became more purple as they were cooked. And I like cauliflower, I go through minor stages of cauliflower lust - however, this is beyond the wonderfulness of white cauliflower since there's just so much more yummy flavor.

Yum. So now I'm sitting here having just eaten a slice of apple pie for breakfast, and it's utterly delcious. And what do people do when they realize they have an entire second pie and have been talking about food for over 7 hours? They drink tea and plan the next night's dinner. So tonight we're having pie for dessert, however, we're having some combo of Indian food for dindin which we're cooking beforehand.

Here's my ode to food. Food is good.

13 September 2006

mundane life

So, I think I'm good at causing whirlwinds whereever I go. I never seem to be bored. Then again, most people would call my average Saturday or Sunday (sometimes both) boring when I do nothing. Perhaps this is because I just don't seem to know how to not be busy or try new things.

Now that I've recovered from the robbery - new laptop for home and for work, found my old craptastic digicam which is fine now that I'm back in the States, and am slowly making up a wishlist of media stuff and other little things I lost that I'd actually like back - well, things are still busy.

Between running around with friends like a madwoman, being a bad person and forgetting a friend's birthday, reading on the beach... and finding a new job!!! Well, yeah, excitement abounds.

I found a new position within my current company that I'm attempting to get. But corporate politics are a rather entertaining thing. Who won't step on whose toes; a manager (my manager's manager) coordinating the move for me who doesn't know me at all since he started while I was in Dublin; a crapload of possibilities for lil' moi who's terrible at making decisions; people pestering me about what's next. Let's just say that it's been fun (although my bladder told me to stop getting free coffee offa these people finally!) and I've learned a lot about the company - and frankly, it does my ego good - but sheeshush people. Hoops are everywhere and they're color coded but someone's dog ate the key.

So I'm just pottering along telling the truth in a straight forward manner that catches some people offguard (manager's manager) and now that I've decided what I want, well, I think I can certify myself as being clinically an insane masochist. I think I've said this before about a ton of things - but rather than going for the uber-easy team (one I'm practically been on before, it just has a new manager), or the somewhat easy team (the one I've worked with a lot on various projects - just not directly on their software), I'm going with the team where I get to start my connections from scratch. Oh yes, I've decided that I want "a challenge". Now, Yvette, let me remind you of all the other challenges you've undertaken in your life: college, move to MD, move to WA, move to Ireland, Semester at Sea, traveling alone in France, training an entire team of people technically senior to me in general tech experience, teaching.. but nooooo - apparently you're still young and stupid and want another challenge.

So here's to my new challenge. It's not official yet - but let's just say that I think that when someone mentioned going to a meeting about glue, I was sold. That's just too funny. "What'd you do today Yvette?" "Talked about the proper temperature for glue" Yeah. That's just so wrong.

06 September 2006

some people think the states are so safe...

So I've been told so many times that people are glad I'm back in the states because the states are so safe. I have proof otherwise.

This past holiday weekend - my first spent in Seattle - the house that I rent with 2 of my friends was robbed. One of my roomies was even home when it happened and had no idea, but thankfully he's ok.

So, petty crime and possibly even dangerous crime occurs everywhere. I'm lucky that this time it was petty crime (granted, it's gonna cost me a ton - they got 2 laptops and a camera as the main stuff, and then some other things like DVDs and CDs of mine). I'm lucky that no one was hurt, but let's say that it makes you question your safety anywhere.

Y'know, I was never of the mind that I'm safer in the States. You're not particularly safe anywhere if you don't take the proper precautions. And I have proof. I hadn't been in the states for 14 days when this happened.

So yeah, I'm at a loss for what happened and I'll never get my stuff back in all likelihood.

I'm ok - my roommates are ok. Yeah, I'm a little spooked and it's hard to adjust even though I got a new toy (new laptop - yum). But there's so much paperwork, so many questions, so much to think about - so yeah - it's not done processing in my head, but I'm here and I'm ok. Just thought I'd share a bit.

30 August 2006

lazy summer days in montana

Sat 26 Aug 20:30
“When the gravel disappears you’ve fallen off the map” –Mom

I guess that means that today we’ve proven that the world is as flat as the piece of paper containing our map while driving in Montana.

The goal: to visit some of my aunt & uncle’s friends.
The result: wondering if we’d managed to get on roads worse than those literally marked as “unsurfaced (inquire locally).”

Somehow we ended up going from the prairies of farm country Montana where I’m currently at visiting my relatives (Mom, aunts, uncles, and grandma) to the Bear(s) Paw(s) Mountain(s). (Pick your ‘s’ placement – you only get one and even the wildlife warden we met on the rez couldn’t tell us what ‘s’ was correct.)

We drove and drove and drove and didn’t find the cabin we were looking for so we kept going, following what we thought was a “gravel road” on the map towards a tiny town my mom and uncle remember going to rodeos in with my grandpa.

Heh – that was a joke.

I haven’t laughed that hard and long in a long time. This road got narrower, ruttier, rockier and cow-ier the further we went up it. Oh wait – was that a road? No, it was a logging trail. Ireland ain’t got nothing on this sucker since these were REAL mountains with switchbacks. And what were we driving these in? A lovely front wheel drive Ford Taurus. Brilliant!!

Going up a switchback past some cows, we started talking about where we were – no one was quite sure but my mom and uncle couldn’t remember ever going on this road in their lives. My aunt mentioned the need for GPS and my comment was “Your GPS would tell you ‘where the hell are you stupid humans?’”

Driving out of the Indian rez I thought we’d seen a lot of empty Bud cans and bottles. That didn’t have anything on what we saw as we crested the hill I’m surprised the little white Taurus that could made it up: an empty bottle of Southern Comfort. At that point, I needed oxygen from breathing so hard and we didn’t know whether to turn around or go forward. Apparently someone else let the liquor make that choice for them.

Mind you, we were driving in free range country – so when we stopped for a stretch and to let out some more laughter, I got friendly with the Family Bovine who were attempting to pass us on this tiny dirt logging path. By the end, the Dinner Family had introduced themselves as Mrs. Hamburger Bovine, Mr. RoundSteak Bovine and their two lovely children Lil’ RoastBeef and Ribeye Bovine. Ahhh – some good MOOOOS were had by all.

We finally made it out of the mountains after an exclamation by my uncle at another “huhwha” stop of “Sis, I don’t know which way to go. Relative to prairie, where are we?” – although we had no clue where as evidenced by the comment made by my uncle when we could finally see further than the trees in front of us “we’re out of the mountains… are we North or South of them though?”

We made it back to the teensy tiny farming town where we’re staying with Grandma only to need to stop for a refreshing beverage at the Redneck Club and Casino (I kid you not – pictures shall be had). American crap beer tastes like watered down crap at this point – wow, I never thought that’d happen.

In case you were wondering if I’d keep any of Ireland with me as I visit farm country USA – yes, I have. I caught myself saying bollicks in the car… and brilliant multiple times. Congratulations, Irish English, you’ve been introduced to the county of wheat country and ranch country Montana that has a teensy town my mom grew up in with a Redneck Club and Casion.

And to summarize my lovely day driving in Montana with my family: “I don’t want to know how they built this road, I want to know why!!!”

Sun Aug 27 09:30
Malt o’ Wheat

Mmmmm mmmmm good. There’s this wonderful substance that’s a bit grittier than Cream of Wheat which is perfectly amazing called Malt o’ Wheat. It was an uber-yummy breakfast. A bit o’ sugar and butter and we were perfectly in business.

I definitely love visiting Montana – so relaxing and fun. I just hope we get to play lawn golf today!!!

Mon Aug 28 11:25
Such a BIG town

My mother gave me directions to get to the grocery store and library today. I laughed so hard at her – she even drew a map. It’s beyond ridiculous here! C’mon mother – I think I c an figure out how to go 1.5 blocks to main street, turn left and follow traffic signs to stop at “the highway” and cross the tracks. Just tell me “about a block from the cemetery” or whatnot. Silly mother – you cannot get lost in this town. And the directions to the grocery store were beyond hilarious. First of all, I’ve been there before – many times. Secondly, it’s 3 blocks away and I’m odd for driving it.

Welcome to this huge metropolis of a sleepy town.

Mon Aug 27 21:33
Lawn Golf is tha Bomb Shizzle!

I can’t laugh anymore – it hurts – a lot. Lawn golf has to be the most ridiculous lawn sport ever invented. It’s not proper like croquet; it’s not random like bocce ball; it’s completely unique to play a game with piping and golf balls where you combine horseshoes and a bit of… ‘shrooms?

Holy holy holy – my lungs hurt and I sound like a lifetime smoker when I laugh because I’m hacking like a madwoman. Buckets of laughter were had by all… and then some! And yes, I was on the pink team and the pink beat the purple. It was siblings v. “the rest of us.” And you’ve never heard so many excuses or so much whining in however long you’ve been alive times 1000 years.

I can’t believe the stuff we said tonight – you would never believe me saying to the police officer across the street “sorry for disturbing the peace” after my mother decided to ask his councilwoman wife for more light to make sure the pink team wasn’t cheating. I told them to send her back to NY where they could handle crazy women.

Maybe I shouldn’t have sat at the Mint for so long friggin’ refusing drinks. I thought the Irish rounds system was bad – but at least then it’s you and the people you went in with – not the entire bar buying for the rest of the bar. Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeesh. And American crap beer at that! Wooo.. Mom and I were doing well when we got home to eat with Grandma and then of course, there was Lawn Golf – the god of all sports. I should make myself a lawn golf set and have friends over for a bbq next weekend if there are people not concert going (and if I’m not concert going).

I think my lungs might be recovering, although I think an ice cream bar might be in order to make sure to numb the pain of laughing so hard.

I might be wearing purple pants, but pink still won at the brilliant game of lawn golf.

25 August 2006

here & there

So, how many flights can I take in the month of Aug? I'm going to be up to 6 next Wed.

Y'see, I got in Monday night from Dublin, and tomorrow night I'm flying to Montana - because, well, that's just the way I am. I travel far too much. Except I'm very apathetic about packing at this point. My room looks like a bomb exploded through my suitcases since I never unpacked (at least I did laundry!). And I really really really don't want to pack.

So y'know what? I'm not going to - I'm going to pack only the necessary stuff tonight (toothbrush, ID, deoderant and a book) and the rest is getting tossed in the general direction of my rollybag in the morning. Means I have to get up early, but my body's still not on PST so this feels disgustingly late (hi, it's 7:15am to my body in some senses - my alarm would've been going off at this exact time exactly one week ago) so I think a 6am wake up will be easier than my delerious and grumpy stay up tonight.

Oh, and did I mention all my other planned vacations for the year? Yeah - I think if I could always fly the same airlines, I might've become platinum this year.

Here I come Montana!

23 August 2006

well hello to you to pst time zone!

So, it's finally been over 24 hrs since I returned to the US. I can't believe I actually showed up in the office yesterday on what I'd guess was about 2 hrs of sleep. Sickness I tellya. And I even made it through till 6pm yesterday so that I could go out to dinner with a large group of great friends who welcomed me back to the states.

Granted, yesterday I wasn't supposed to do any work (about 2 hrs of work snuck in in the afternoon) but I answered the same welcome back questions over and over again. My desk had been raided by my coworkers who left their goods in an anonymous pile on the desk in the recent past knowing of my imminent return to the states. People were surprised to hear my voice or see me. I looked like crap twice over.. and somehow I managed to take the bus to work (but got a lift back to the house).

Don't know if my old work peeps miss me - but I'm oncall for the next 2 mins so they can't completely hate me since I took over 2 hours this morning (hey, I woke up at 7 before my alarm clock - and this after being up from 3-5 due to lack of sleepies).

But I feel much more rested.

Now I'm just scared of driving - because I'm still looking the "wrong" way when I cross the street. But my lovely car has been returned by it's fabulous baby sitters (thanks guys!!) and is begging me to drive it - specially since I need things like basic grocery goodnesses and to get my haircut this evening.

So yeah, I'm back in Seattle - it's pretty much the way I left it - I just missed the purty time of year since now it's overcast and gray out. But I'll deal since Ireland was worth it.

Ok - off oncall, so I'm safe to shower without wanting to throw my pager at something when I have shampoo in my hair and it goes off. Then, onto another boring day of work work work work work. At least the contrasts between the offices are amazingly apparent so that gives me pondering to use for procrastination.

22 August 2006

my last 2 weeks living in europe... (lots and lots of stuff - aka long)

I wrote this on the plane between Dublin and Atlanta today. Now I'm sitting on the couch in the main floor living room of the house we rent in Seattle. I'm here.

written at 1646 (my body's time) over the Atlantic 21 Aug

I just woke up to a snack of Haagen Dazs ice cream on my little trans-Atlantic flight and realized that I've lived the past 10 days in a blur of activity - none of which I've shared with the world. So this will end up being a very long blog entry probably - who knows - since I'm writing on a flight and where do I have to go? My battery's full and there's a really old episode of Alias on the inflight tv channel.

So, hrmm - what do I have to say? Well, there's France - you heard most of the things I wanted to write about the Riviera, but there's always Paris. And then there's my "last week in Ireland" and all the mumbo jumbo that involves.

France:

France's Riviera
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
I amazingly didn't miss my train from the Riviera to Paris or anything of the sort (grrr to the man in front of me who decided just now to lean back in his seat). Instead I arrived in Paris to find that my hotel was the cutest thing known to mankind. It was a little narrow "building" (more like a row house) just a few blocks away from St Germain (thus perfectly situated) with decor reminiscent of medieval times - including a coat of arms in the foyer. My room itself had a closet which was converted into a bathroom, a bed that was much larger than the room should hold and thus it was easier to walk across the bed than around it, a fake armoire and ceiling beams. Fantastic quiet street and beyond what I'd hoped for. I wandered to a cafe and a wine bar Monday night doing nothing special - just reading, writing and basking in Paris and a good glass of wine (or two).


Glace!
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
Tuesday I attempted to go to the Louvre but having not read my little guide book carefully enough, I didn't realize that the Louvre was closed, so I saw the glass pyramids (they fascinated me - forgive me if you look at my photos) and then started to head towards Notre Dame only to find myself having to.... SIT DOWN... when a friend of mine from Dublin decided he was going to take an impromptu vacation and join me in Paris since it would work out for him. A visitor was more than welcome on this trip as honestly, I was getting rather lonely. In reality, I'll never do a trip that long alone again - it was hard to keep going at times. So that invigorated me to no end knowing that he was going to try to arrive Thursday morning and we'd have the weekend to explore as 2 people, which is vastly different than exploring as 1 person. So Tuesday flew by in a whir of walking walking walking and texting and seeing beautiful stained glass windows in St Chapelle and Notre Dame (the free tour in Notre Dame was wonderful!) and visiting the Conciergerie and enjoying some good ol' Parisian cafes. I also managed to eat a few crepes, some glace, have some wine and go shopping in the Latin Quarter that day before feetsies had enough.


Mr Eiffel's Tower
at Night

Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
Wednesday did find me at the Louvre - this time successfully getting in. I liked the outside of the Louvre more than the inside - and that's just sad. I think that the Met has a much more easily navigated layout and just as good of artwork. Yes, I did see the Mona Lisa and all that stuff. I also happened to run into a student I taught AP Computer Science to my first year of teaching which was surreal to say the least!!! I was just sitting in a sculpture garden in the Louvre reading having pushed my way through the crowds to see the Venus D'Milo and I was ready for a break when this former-student walked up to me and said excuse me and I knew how I knew him right away - I just couldn't place his name. I still can't place his name, I just know that he was late to my class (and school since it was 1st period) more days than you can possibly fathom. Ridiculousness and what an odd moment. That evening I wandered and window shopped in St Germain, I walked through Luxembourg Gardens and the Sorbonne and I sat in another Parisian cafe after having a glace that had a presentation to die for - the glace was nothing more than really really really good glace, but the presentation made it phenomenal. I then ended up doing my normal "dinner find" of going to a random cafe with a lot of people, and in line met a woman from CA who was also traveling in Paris alone (although she was unexpectedly alone) so we shared a table and after a delightful dinner we took a river cruise on the Seine which was really really pretty.

Thursday through a bit of well timed text messages and my thankfully good sense of direction and mental map, I managed to find my friend in the large city of Paris and we dropped off his stuff before beginning our wanders for the day. Our wanders took us to the Eiffel Tower where we had a picnic of crepes and then decided to "stare up the skirt" of the tower. He was indifferent about going to the top and I got scaredy-catted so I didn't make it to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Don't regret it though either. After some good lounging in the unlikely sun, we continued wandering to make our loop past the Arc de Triomph, down the Champs Elysees (with a stop for some coffee along the way) past the Louvre and some funny sculptures and then on for dinner in the Latin Quarter. Hours and hours later with a bottle of wine split between us, a lovely day had been had and no one was dead from traveling with Yvette.


Yvette Snogs A Face of Stone
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
Friday brought us to another wander in the opposite direction - first I was aiming for the island that doesn't have Notre Dame on it in the Seine, but we missed that and instead ate paninis on the banks of the Seine where they should've been having a raucous Paris a Plage but where it was far too cool to lounge about outside scantily clad. Then we hiked on - having the destination of the Picasso museum in mind. It was marvelous and I made more kissy faces at statues on the wall. Then off on another ramble to see that section of Paris, stop for coffee, walk past the Pompodou Center and just enjoy our time in Paris. Nothing really eventful, but more laughter and smiles than you can possibly count.

Saturday it was rainy. So after being lazy bums because of the rain (hey, it was a holiday after all!!! No need to rush around on a holiday when the point is to relax and enjoy!) we set off to wander I can't remember where. We ended up doing a lot of window shopping, Yvette did a lot of hopping on one leg (I bruised my knee by falling on a slipper step) so we were slow going and we collected edibles for a picnic that evening when we thought the rain had let up. Y'see, I was determined to get "a view of Paris" and since I didn't go up the Eiffel - Sacre Coer seemed like a must. A 4EUR bottle of wine (it was the only screw cap available), bread, brie, grapes and berries later, we were ready to head up the hill (after a quick stop for glace after all). We made it up to Sacre Coer after twisting and getting more lost in Paris than I'd previously been (who'd've thought it could be so hard to "go uphill") and with my body reminding me that I am very out of shape. The view was amazing except there were so many tourists you couldn't figure out where to put yourself. The sun was up, and I wanted to see the lights after dark so we sat down and drank our Orangina (being the lateral thinker I am, I wanted us to have non-clear repositories for our red wine so that we wouldn't get in trouble with the police or anyone should they come along. Apparently this makes me a "good lateral thinker").We had our lil' picnic and it started to sprinkle so we put up and umbrella and cowered under it with the food. 4EUR wine is as bad as it sounds. YUCK! But after the first can, it goes down pretty smooth... Trust me, this was unforgettable to the two of us on the steps!! I was staying remarkably dry so I wasn't worried about things, but my partner in crime claimed that he was acting as my "sanitary pad" (his words - I promise - too disturbing even after more and more wine). Apparently his rear was not so dry..... Tee hee! Somehow we managed to stay there and not get horribly wet till the last 15ish mins when our wine was gone - so we scurried down to the metro and went back to the hotel to get dry - and it was late anyways).

With a slow start on Sunday, we headed out to a leisurely lunch and then made our way to the airport oblivious to the recent changes in airport security for travelers due to the threats in the London area. We didn't run into anything other than ridiculously slow security that wasn't any different than normal (it was just the French!) so that was good. All good. And home to Dublin safe after what was a great trip - I got some good me-time in, I learned a lot about how I travel by myself, I had a fabulous time in Paris with my friend, I lounged on the beach, I saw what I wanted to see, and I went back to Dublin thoroughly relaxed and in shock of my imminent departure for the US only 8 days away.

My last week in Ireland:
My last week in Ireland flew by. I was oncall at work from 6am-6pm every day but Monday and I packed a lot into that time. I almost can't remember what. I worked only what was required (and in that time got mounds of work done - huh!), I laughed with my coworkers tons and tons, and I just had a good time. Went out for burgers to prove to an Irish bloke that you can eat any hamburger with your hands (after having seen him very politely cut his burger and chips and eat them with a fork a few weeks before). It was a challenge of sorts since these were massive burgers of odd shapes, and he wanted me to go for the one with chili on it. It all worked out for the best and that's what we ended up with. And I finished the entire burger eating with my hands without a single spot on me - much to his shock. Apparently this was a feat worth documentation from his point of view.

I also got some fish and chips to prove that the fish in the states is significantly better than that in Dublin, however, the chips are not.


Pissed Coworkers
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
I went on a final Irish pub crawl after my last day in the Dublin office (Friday). It was a much smaller gathering than I'd initially thought there would be, but all the people that I wanted were there with me - so that's what mattered. We went to a bunch of pubs and I got genuinely tipsy. We even went down the stairs and past the glass door at the pub I had the "unfortunate incidents" at. There wasn't too much embarrassment on anyone's part, but lots of drunkenness. And the night ended with some good ol' kebabs at a late night kebab house when pubs without late licenses were starting to close.


Wicklow
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
Saturday was a rainy day so I took that to mean it should be a lazy day. And yesterday I was treated to a trip to the Irish countryside which I saw far far far far far too little of during my sojourn to Ireland. That was amazing - so pretty - and somehow it was mostly sunny the entire day. The company was fantastic, the views were brilliant, and it was a great way to end my stay in Ireland. I then went back to my apartment and did a whirlwind of packing.


Wicklow
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
And this morning, through tears, I departed Dublin and am now flying to Atlanta.

I've been busy and my head's been a swirl of thoughts. I wish I weren't leaving Dublin. I was planning on living there for 6 months, so 4 not only feels still a bit like giving up, but it also feels like I just didn't have enough time to do everything I wanted to do at an Yvette pace. Then there's the fact that I was finally finally finding my place in the world in Dublin - work's been great (and work not being great was the reason I'd been forced to decide to leave - grrrr to that), I've got friends, people ask me to "do stuff" and I'm still traveling a lot. I haven't had any complaints for my last month in Dublin.

Then again, I'm happy to return to my friends in the States. They'll all be different and some might not live in Seattle for much longer, but they're good people and I'm looking forward to hanging out with them again. I just need to train them to call me again now that I'll be back. I can't believe I'm going into the office tomorrow.

I know things I'll miss about Dublin. I know things I'm looking forward to about Seattle. I'm all torn up inside in some ways - but overall it'll work out. Life does what it's supposed to - I just have to kick it along sometimes. I'm wondering if I'm kicking it in the right direction at the moment.

Cheers ladies and gents!

20 August 2006

less than 24 hrs remain

I fly out of Ireland at 11AMish tomorrow. Everything's arranged. I'm just not packed. I have tons to say, tons to think about, tons to write. Right now, I'm sad to be leaving Ireland - very very sad. However, I'm also enjoying my last errrr hours here. Now, off for an excursion with a lovely friend so that I can enjoy this country a bit more for this trip. Have no fear, Ireland, I shall return to you and your people some day.

14 August 2006

some people shouldn't be allowed to breed

So, another story from France - one that horrified me and made my entire trip worthwhile on my first weekend on the beach in the Riviera.

Mind you, my time at the beach was a complete and utter treat to myself. I spent my days relaxing in the sun on a beach chair with an adjustable umbrella and my book or floating out in the Mediterranean where my feet couldn't touch the bottom. Nothing harsh. Just that, a huge salad with a glass of vin rose for every lunch, a glace on the walk back to my hotel in the late afternoon, and a nice dinner with a glass of vin rouge for dinner and possibly a crepe for dessert. It wasn't meant to be eventful, and my previous entry written while at the beach should've been the highlight of my relaxing time there. I had intended to summarize it in a few sentences about nearly naked people and seeing too many thongs, plus playing with children and enjoying the absolutely perfect weather that held out my entire time there.

However, that's not the case.

In the middle of the afternoon I was out floating on my back in the water having just reapplied my SPF 50 (mmmm - unburnt Yvette for once!). I was all happy in the sun with the absolutely perfectly refreshing water rising and falling with the wake from various boats passing beyond the line of bouys that indicated the boundary of the swimming area to separate it from the boating area. This should've been perfectly reasonable - most people were in near the shore where their feet could touch ground, but I've always loved floating or treading water - I guess it's my buoyancy.

However, on this fateful day, a little girl was out floating on a raft - just your basic flat lie on your back sort of deal that so many people have. Her parents were relatively nearby - perhaps they could touch the ground (I could see it through the clear sea water, I'm just short) but their daughter most definitely could not have. I'd have guessed she was in the 4-5 year old age range.

This little cutie had no buoyancy devices at all. She fell off her raft. I was scarily closer than her parents when this happened and made it to her first, dragging her up as she sank to the bottom. Her little self didn't struggle thankfully, and my lifeguard skills kicked right in. It was very very easy to keep her afloat as she choked and sputtered and vomited sea water all over my arms (these are the sorts of things you don't notice until the hecticness of the rescue is over - it was sort of surreal to walk onto the beach and realize I was absolutely nasty and in need of a shower). I can't believe that I remembered my skills from 10 years ago when I got my life guarding certificate. I'm definitely not certified now, so I'm glad everything went ok - and I'm very thankful that she came up breathing so I didn't have to drag her into shore at a rapid pace. Plus, the lifeguards on the beach met us when I got to the point where I was able to touch bottom and hold her up with her parents following behind me. So they took over the care of her from there while the parents babbled at me incoherently.

I cannot believe parents could do such a thing. I'm torn between being insanely grateful for my swimming abilities and lifeguard training versus being horrified and outraged at the girl's parents. You do not do that with a small child.... NO MATTER WHAT! This is why some people shouldn't be allowed to breed.

But now, everything's safe and sound. There's no harm done to anyone involved. I managed to go in and get cleaned up in the employee restroom of the nice little place I was sitting at - and they didn't charge me for my chair or lunch at that place either. So it worked out in the end for the best - fairy tale ending.

If I never have to do that again, I will be beyond happy. Once is far more than enough. Good luck lil' cutiepie I dragged out of the Med.

written on the beach in juan les pins, france

Disclaimer: I wrote this while in France actually in my paper journal. I thought it was cute.

Today I ate lunch with a smelly Frenchman; then I was hit on by a cute blonde German lass over a before-dinner cocktail (mm - pina colada on the beach). They were both delightful; they were both 4 at the oldest.

After lounging on the beach for an hour or two I went to get lunch. The large party in the cafe at the table next to me had a herd of small children - one of whom was fascinated by me. I don't know what the thrall I have over the 4 year old male is, but after exchanging smiles he crawled into the chair opposite mine and helped himself to a piece of bread. His father was utterly horrified and turned red hearing my horrible French (aka nonexistent French with an American accent) reassuring him it was ok.

My little friend chattered at me for the duration of my meal and giggled at every word I uttered in either English or French. Delightful!

I continued my day relaxing in the sand and floating in the sea.

Then, waiting for my restaurant d'jour to open, I found a little wannabe tiki bar where a little towheaded German 2 year old climbed into my lap unexpectedly as I demurely sipped my drink and wiggled my toes in the sand. She kept trying to feed me popcorn from my lil' popcorn bowl they gave me on the table..... except she'd sucked on every piece first. At least her parents could speak English so they knew I wasn't upset at my newfound lil' friend. Adorable!

Today was a very cute day.

13 August 2006

home safe in Dublin

Hi all - thanks for all your concern over travel after recent events with airline security. I wasn't aware of any potential problems until I got home and read emails from friends and family. I didn't have any problems in the airport and we made it through to the flight all clear. Nothing out of the ordinary other than the slowest security checkpoint I've been through in a while. But hey - they're French!

I'll write more later. Right now, off to look at the heaps of laundry awaiting me.

08 August 2006

safe in paris

I made it to Paris tre bien. (those of you that speak French, please pardon my butchering of the language that I don't actually know.)

The Med was lovely - I have blog entries to type up and post when I return from lazy evenings drinking wine and watching the sun set over the water with sand in my toes.

I'm currently resting my lil' toesies before I return to walking in Paris. Today's tourism is done and now it's wander time. I have a nutella crepe in hand - so I'm all set to go.

Although I did a whole lot of relaxing on the sand and swimming while in the Riviera I have more stories from that portion than from my train ride and day in Paris. Go figure!!

And I'm all chipper cause a visitor is joining me later this week in Paris only to be dragged to the top of the Eiffel Tower and to other random Parisienne spots du jour. Mostly I mention the Eiffel Tower due to my fear of heights and my determination to get to the top anyways - so I'm greatful for the distraction on the way up and as I shakingly approach the edge with stoic determination. Yes, I really really hate man made heights! Take me to the steps of Sacre Couer for a view that won't petrify me at first. At least I've finally given up going up the inside of cathedral domes due to the fact I never get over that one no matter how long I'm up there.

Ahhh - feetsies good to go again. Aur revior! (errr - adios since I know I'm spelling that right. And I'm slowly learning this French keyboard thingie)

04 August 2006

smelly french keyboards

I lack the ability to type on this keyboard... and I thought Irish keyboards were hard enough but dang these misplaced as ms and ws.

Yes, I'm safe on the Mediterranean in France's Riviera and it's hot and beautiful. I have 8 more days in France and tomorrow I'm spending the entire day on the beach.

Adios (yes I know that's the wrong language.... but I keep nearly speaking in Spanish to people).

02 August 2006

today's PSA: rotating baa-ing sheep are brilliant

I hear baa's coming down the corridor towards me as I sit at my desk after getting to work rather late this morning due to utter and extreme laziness. Yes, it is an Irishman walking towards my back corner of the office with a sheep - a sheep that baas when you rotate it. Wiggle the sheep: it baaas; rotate the sheep: it baaaas. Irishmen and their sheep.

I think I've finally found my niche in this office. It's rather perplexing to me because this is about the same amount of time that it took me to find my place in the Seattle office... however, now I'm about to leave Dublin. Hrmmm...... I sit here laughing all day long and working away at a nifty little project that keeps me both confused and happy. Maybe I'd even make friends here.

But at the same time, Seattle's still a good home for me. So who knows - life happens and I'll go with it - having spent the past hour listening to the gentleman who sits next to me mutter about another coworker being brilliant.... for his moooing and his rotating baaaaing sheep!

30 July 2006

i like my balcony

My balcony is my favorite part of this apartment. It's shaded, a bit breezey due to the height, and has a nice lil' chair and table for me to relax. And since it's been so disgustingly hot here lately and I have no fans or the like to keep this place cooler, well, it's about the only hospitable part of my apartment.

This weekend I'm stuck "under house arrest" since I'm oncall. It's not been a problem so far. I enjoyed a relaxing Friday evening before the oncall started at 0600 Saturday. And then Saturday I got myself paged and paged and paged again in the morning, and kept napping, and finally collapsed into a heap of Yvette mush around 1830... Did wake up for a bit - but I feel much more human since I've spent far too many nights this week awake late - including a 5+ hour long walk home one night when I was distracted talking to a friend.

Mmmm - fresh grapes. Strawberries may have failed me, but I just went downstairs to get myself a few nibbles for around my apartment and came back with lovely fresh and juicy grapes.

Don't really have much to do today. I should look through my France plans and make sure I haven't missed anything - but shoulds are shoulds and I feel like reading my book instead.

Just a normal weekend for me. Carry on.

27 July 2006

will someone bail me out of jail when i get back to the states?

I will cross the street anywhere no matter what direction the traffic is going. Walking my short jaunt home today, I realized that if I were in Seattle, I'd have been arrested numerous times within the .25mi that I walked today (yes, I'm an American - I don't do metric) - and that's a shorter walk than normal due to getting a lift part way.

I avoided crosswalks. When I was crossing at a crosswalk I never saw "the green man" - always the red man - although I think there was a hint of yellow at the second of the two crosswalks I managed to cross.

It's so sad that I've timed my walk to the best crosswalks on the way to the Luas in the morning... and on the way home in the evening there are certain ways that I've noticed are faster - including one crosswalk that you'd never expect to be so short because it's got 2 islands to pass over.

So when I arrived here, ironically I was confused as to which way to look before crossing the street. Now I look and walk without fear and, in Seattle, they arrest for that sort of behavior. So, when I get back to the US and get arrested for jaywalking, who will take my phonecall to pay my bail?

25 July 2006

10 things I've learned living in Ireland

  1. Always check the milk's consistency before pouring it on your cereal - chunky smelly milk happens far far far too fast in this country for some unknown reason.
  2. Do not use the word "ride" in any context - you're just better off not doing it. It'll cause you greate embarassment when you find out what you've just implied. (Yeah - just did this one - still blushing from it - dagnabbit.)
  3. A pint is relative.
  4. Never underestimate the will power of an appliance; and never assume that you can use appliances you were once familiar with. Appliances in Ireland don't like cocky users and are disagreeable.
  5. Jaywalking is a way of life. If you've been to Vietnam before, you will be well prepared for the average Irish street crossing for nothing compares to a Vietnamese intersection and a pedestrian trying to navigate to the other side of the road. However, jaywalking is practically encouraged here and I'm out of the habit of looking for a guard before doing so - since they seem to ignore this feature. Although I don't recommend jaywalking until you have the ingrained knowledge of which way to look before crossing the street.
  6. Drive on the left. When crossing a street look right THEN left.
  7. Swearing isn't considered impolite (or even swearing it seems) when you replace vowels with 'e' or add an 'e' to the end of the word.
  8. Don't bother buying strawberries - they'll be moldy the second they leave the store and this will frustrate you because you're craving strawberries (ok, so this isn't an Irish thing - but it's a current frustration since I went to cut up the strawberries I bought yesterday that replaced the ones I bought Sat and again they were furrybad).
  9. The Spar employees don't know how to wrap a wrap. Prepare yourself for a tortilla with toppings that drip in some form of paper.
  10. Not all Irish accents are made equal; and sometimes they're so unequal that Irish can't understand each other even when speaking English.
I will write more later - I'm in a listy mood where I can see upcoming lists like "what I will / won't miss about Ireland", "what I'm looking forward to / not in the States" and the like. But a few of those have been swimming in my head for a while....

23 July 2006

first is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the hairy chest (don't ask me what fourth is)

I have overcome the pitch&putt challenge. Tracy, I kept thinking of you - how much you guys would LOVE this activity. Heck, even I loved it - the States definitely needs to adopt that one. There's part of me that wishes I could find time and companions to go again because it reminds me of my fascination with bowling: I'm ok at it, it's funny to watch, it's social, and no one's ever very good at it so no one's competitive.

So, the game really is a shortened version of golf (not mini [errrr crazy] golf). My dear friend who invited me along described it thus in an email to me:
Well, it's a sort of semi-golf for people who don't or can't take golf seriously and want to have a bit of fun hitting a ball around instead of wearing silly clothes and looking all serious. Smaller course; typically you rent a pair of clubs when you arrive and you don't pay too much attention to keeping score.
That really is the perfect description.

So I walked over to get a ride and we hit the road south to pick up the other two guys who initiated this venture.

Ahhh - the Irish bloke - such a rare breed - these two were fantastic.

So, the four of us headed off to the course to rent our pair of clubs: a wedge of some indiscriminate sort (I only know that much because the guys were talking about how it was too much of some kind of wedge) and a putter (which I'm familiar-esque with from mini golf outings [Seattleites - we are so going to play minigolf when I get back]). We each got two balls and a bag of tees for the group. Equipment: check.

Now, I have never actually hit a golf ball any distance. I have never desired driving a golf ball anywhere. I am a putter (and only an amateur at that). So I begged out of the starting position and watched. Somehow, I managed not to make a complete fool out of myself on that first hit. Although I must say that I'm glad that those balls bounce since I didn't see much air for the first few holes.

To assuage curiosity:
  • No, it did not take me more hits than my age on any single hole.
  • No, it didn't even take me double digits on any single hole.
  • No, I did not lose any balls to any sort of obstacles (that was my lovely friend's job)
  • Yes, I always forgot to take my tee when I was done.
  • 2nd, I came in second out of four after the bloke who actually golf golfs which is just short of a minor miracle. I do not know what this is a sign of. Other than that I can twirl around in circles like an elementary school girl singing the title of this post: first is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the hairy chest!
  • No, I didn't ever fall over laughing; however, I did laugh a whole lot (my lungs are burning from the past week-ish of laughter).
  • Yes, I did get a par 3 on one hole.
pitch&putt is brilliant - and it's not just because I did well. It needs adoption in the states just like duckpin bowling needs to expand its horizons outside of Maryland. I miss that game too. So, I guess I'll go back to mini golf and fondly remember my time on the pitch&putt with 3 wonderful, handsome and hilarious gentlemen.

Thanks for the fun frolic to the pitch&putt frequent friend with a broken sarcasm and rambling detector! *grins*

pray for me - or laugh at me - take your pick

I'm sitting here surfing the web having just decided to try "something new" that sounds highly entertaining and like a possible source of great embarrassment. pitch&putt. Don't ask me what it is - for I shall tell you when I get back - although I've heard that it's a shorter less serious version of a golf like game. Although all my Googling for what this is with pictures has been to no avail. Perhaps I shall provide some if my p&p party doesn't object to dorky pictures!

I'm sitting here giggling and grinning like a Cheshire Cat yet again at the prospect of something outside on a magnificent day that is utterly new to me.

I guess I should make sure I have sunglasses or the like so I might be able to see the ball... Yeah - that might be a good thing to do.

Pray for me to have good stories - whatever your version of good stories is - when I return! *blows kisses all hyper like*

22 July 2006

what happens in bed is supposed to stay in bed.....

....unless it's as innocently funny and entertaining as last night was!

Mind you dear readership, I know some of you may be a bit shocked by what's to come - so this is my single line of "warning" if you will.

After work I found a willing victim (to be referred to throughout this entry as my fearless companion) to go out for a Friday evening pint. We stopped by a nice old pub only to find the courtyard packed with people of the same Friday evening mind as we were: socializing over a refreshing pint. So instead of putting up with the overly stuffy and sweaty pub interior we moved on to look for another venue. My fearless companion recollected another pub he'd been to that would probably be slightly less packed and a bit more temperate. So I merrily followed along.

We arrived at what he remembered as being a jazz club and found it very quiet in comparison to the last place we'd stopped. I immediately noticed some differences in this place than what my fearless companion remembered from having been to a jazz club: the rainbow pride little flag, the Dublin Pride poster, and the lack of anyone female. I kept my talkative mouth shut about this subject, waiting for my fearless companion to chime in on his opinion for I was far too entertained (my apparent word du jour) by the setting and waiting for him to notice the surroundings. He grabbed us pints and we flopped back in comfort on these massive red couches filled with cushions made to resemble huge circular beds. Lounging with a pint of beer, talking and laughing ensued... until one of us mentioned our surroundings. Thank goodness my fearless companion was not freaked or weirded out by the new style of the jazz club. Although the setting did make for eeeenteresting jokes and conversations.

We had a few more pints while lounging on our massively huge couch with comfy cushions; we did end up staying in this same location for our entire evening until it was time for the Cinderellas to leave the ball.

There are some details of this adventure, that no matter how innocent they were, shall be left up to your imaginations (and they truly are innocent - I assure you). They just added to the ambiance of the evening to make it memorable.

We managed to have a few pints over many many hours - and I had an excellent time!

20 July 2006

office + music

If the office were always this chill and entertaining, I think Dublin might be able to convince me to stay. Y'see, the friends issue is overcome-able, but the office is a different story - since my work permit only allows me to work here in Ireland and that leaves me trapped. And it's not always like this... but when the cat's away, the mice will play one coworker just said as he skipped out a bit early - and I totally agree. Although the 4 people in my end of the office who were here today should never be left in the office without supervision - we're like a class of unfocused second graders - at least from my point of view. Hilarity abounds in bad jokes, procrastination, and talking. Good times.

In the meantime, I've gotten down to the work at hand (ok, so I'm writing a blog entry at the moment) and I look so silly sitting in my chair dancing to the same song on repeat..... for hours.... Smile...it confuses people is a great CD and I really like the first single off of it: I Wish I Were a Punk Rocker (with Flowers in My Hair). At least I've finally just put the iPod on shuffle and now I'm getting some good ol' Tegan & Sara. Ahhhh...... back to work - focus... forward... steady hold....

19 July 2006

Look Ma! I made a decision!!

So, I talked to my sleep deprived mother this morning (hi mom!) and talking to her always helps me make decisions even when she says nothing (so should I say talking at her?). I am not making any plans for this weekend. I'm tired of making plans. If I feel like going to Galway on Fri then I'll go. If I don't, then I won't. Either way, I'll be happy with that decision since it's not being forced outta me now. And either way I'll have an excellently spiffy weekend. Decision! Accomplishment in the morning!

17 July 2006

exhausted decisions

I think I've finally hit a combination of culture shock, lonely homesickness and exhaustion.

Walking home today I kept people watching per norm. I did my normal ridiculous amount of jaywalking while humming to myself (literally). And all of a sudden, I walked by a stream of people who just made me say "Toto, we're not in the States anymore." I've hit culture shock twice before in my life: once about the 2.5 month mark of Semester at Sea - somewhere on the ocean between Kenya and South Africa which culminated with Thanksgiving on the way out of port; the other happened about 2 weeks after I got back to the States from Semester at Sea. I guess 2.5 months is about the time it takes for me to realize that I'm living somewhere entirely different but oh-so-similar to my "old life." I find myself being more restrained, yet feeling like I'm an oddity at the zoo. I feel flamboyant here comparatively which is very odd. So there's the culture shock of it: it's just time for it and it's not good or bad, it's just a piece of travel that you've gotta get through when you're in a new place for long enough. Guess this means I'll get to look forward to American culture shock again too, eh?

Lonely homesickness: well, that one's pretty self evident. But again, par for the course and I can deal with it. I have met some good people in and out of work - so that's good.

And then there's the exhaustion - I've been going like mad for the past 2.5 months between traveling and work, it's insane. I have 3 more weekends here and in my head today I put together what to do over that time and came up with the fact that if I'm going to make it to Western Ireland, I have to go this weekend. And I think of that and sigh with frustration because I'm tired of going. I know I'll be back to Ireland someday - but when? Do I take my chances and skip it on this trip? Or do I push myself through the exhaustion and go. I have plenty of options for day trips this coming weekend if I don't head to Galway. So we shall see. Right now, I'm not making any plans; I'll give myself another few days and follow my gut. It's not like I haven't done anything while I've been here!

And there's always more culture shock for me to find even if I stay close to Dublin. I can go plenty of places to stare at people in confusion and feel like a flamboyant outsider. Heck, even in the office I feel like the alien. Then again, there's a lot of back story there not to be published in any forum, however, the entirely male dominated atmosphere makes it "interesting." I can't quite describe how it differs from the male dominated atmosphere of the Seattle office, but it definitely does. I guess it's got that "all boys' club" feel to it - and being one of only three women in the entire office (and the only one on my end of the office) makes that very obvious - especially when the guys get to cracking jokes. Now, I'm not saying that I'm uncomfortable or weirded out - frankly, I think they're absolutely hysterical and I end up laughing so hard I can't see my computer screen at my lil' corner of the boys' club world. But being the gushy girl who ooo's over Cute Overload or adores hugs more than anything in the world, well, let's just say that I don't have enough of the one-upping attitude to not feel like the freak in the circus.

So I can end this on a more upbeat note (I promise Tracy - I'm smiling more than frowning - don't be saddened), I shall leave you with a link to a picture on the aforementioned Cute Overload that had me melting with cuteness into a lil' gooey gushy Vette: Blobule!

16 July 2006

non sequitors supreme

Ok - so painkillers with caffeine apparently have made my brain a bit hyper and jumpy today - it's highly entertaining. (Yes, I managed to somehow get my back hurt in my Fri night stair-slide - BAD YVETTE - bad Hoegaarden).

My non sequitors of the day that just keep rattling through my head begging to get out:
  • Never ever stay up till 5am talking to friends from the States and then expect to get up at a reasonable hour the following day.
  • I guess this means that getting out of the city will have to happen another weekend. C'est la vie. However, I only have 3 more "unplanned" weekends in Ireland and two of those I have to stay in Dublin (oncall for one of 'em and packing the other one). So how am I going to do the things still on my list? I guess I need to get myself to Galway that one other weekend - time to plan - except I can't remember what weekend I'm oncall - excellent.
  • I really really really want a cheese burger.
  • I want to go to Montana if I can right after I get back to the States - I just wanna relax there and see family. Yes, I'm insane to want to travel more right when I get back home.
  • I can't decide if I want to blog when I return to the states. The original intent of this blog was to avoid sending mass e-mails when people wanted updates - to let everyone choose what to read. However, it's been rather fun to blog here. So something to ponder ponder ponder.
  • I tried and failed to see Pirates of the Caribbean 2 when I went out wandering today. Maybe some night this week since I'll need to unwind from oncall hell. Hopefully it'll be another quiet week like the last. But 2 weeks of back to back secondary is not my idea of heaven. Oh well, my primaries are smart and capable so hopefully I won't be needed for more than drudgery and question answering. *fingers crossed*
  • I'm going to go enjoy my dinner on my balcony now - it is absolutely brilliant out.
That's all - back to your regularly scheduled programming.

15 July 2006

one makes mistakes

We always make our own mistakes in life - for one reason or another - and there are things be learned from them. There are days I wish I could teach others via my lessons so that they don't end up with my mistakes. But that wouldn't work out.

Why am I thinking about this now of all times? Well, because I'm supposed to be spending my last day doing "touristy stuff" in Dublin today and figuring how to get out of the city tomorrow for the day... However, I'm sitting gingerly on my couch shaking my head and laughing at myself. My derriere is sore, my embarrassment from a good night of drinking is enormously high, and I'm still smiling. Y'see, I'd love to teach all my younger relatives that I'm so protective of that making a fool of yourself when drunk is what tends to happen.

And I shall elaborate on two tales of why I should be and am embarrassed:
  1. Yvette walks into a glass door. Like the birds I used to giggle at flying into the front of my parents huge house of windows, I was the bird who stepped back and shook my head and started laughing and then turned that laughter into tears of laughter when I couldn't get enough oxygen and admitted my gracelessness to my other erstwhile companion of the evening. Unfortunately, there was a witness who knew me so I'll never live it down - so I might as well enjoy laughing at it. I can't believe my silly witness bought me another beer after witnessing that.
  2. The reason I have a sore bum is that I forgot my purse inside the last pub of the evening and had to go back down the stone steps to get it. Unfortunately, when one's wearing slippery flipflops and has no sense of balance, one falls down said stairs on her rear. As they say in one of my favorite musicals RENT, "I regret this news." Ouch. I think my other erstwhile companion witnessed that one but was far far far too kind to laugh at me then about it (then - we'll see if this gentlemanliness is maintained). I definitely think it's a good thing I'd decided to put myself to bed before this incident because it means maybe I was kinda able to think at the time. And to bed I went - after walking home that is - I didn't join any bums on the street.
These are the kinds of hysterical "harmless" (in a sense) escapades that remind me that everyone makes mistakes. Just so long as we don't cross into that harmful world, we're all good. Now, if only we could learn from each other's mistakes rather than having to be inquisitive humans who try everything. Oh wait, I don't even learn from my own mistakes half the time!

Ok - time to psyche myself up and get out into the sun to wander and do something with myself. It's another quiet and alone weekend for me so I might as well go people watch. Anyone wanna teleport in to keep me company in my ramblings? I promise, I don't need any alcohol to prove highly entertaining (which is a good thing, because there's none in my near future - I'm protective of my lack of dignity).

Author's Note:
In walking around the wonderful city of Dublin today doing some window shopping, and reading in the park and exploring other corners, I realized that my embarrassment from last night shall remain with me longer than just it's normal "morning after". Unfortunately, I shall not forget my skid down the steps at the bar last night - either in my mind or in my body. No amount of padding makes sitting on the hard ground comfortable. Aye yai yai. This author is damaged goods.

my toaster; my friend

I have not encountered any problems with my toaster in Ireland - it has been the one appliance that's tried and true and that even this American can figure out. I'm happy it relenquishes my bagels/bread when I poke it's little red button. So toaster, for my last month in Ireland, keep working WITH me, not against me. Thank you lil' toaster.

13 July 2006

what to do... what to do.... wax philisophical and thoughtful perhaps?

I'm all pondery (yes, that is a word - I don't care if it's in the dictionary or not) now that I'm leaving Dublin. I don't feel like a failure at my job here (I'll tell you in a week or so if I feel like I've been a successful disseminator of knowledge and "stuff") - so that's good - mission one mostly accomplished. However, there were 2 other reasons that I moved to Dublin that were more important to me than the job (I mean, the job only pays the bills, right?):
  1. getting to travel as much as I feel like to places I'd really like to go but don't normally have the opportunity to go for a "long weekend"
  2. getting to try living a different life - not just the kind of swap I've had when I moved from NY -> NH -> MD -> WA, but a swap in a big sense where historical differences make it a different culture and the diversity is entirely different
I'm not sure I succeeded at these two goals (in my opinion - YMMV).

In some ways I did. I've been to London twice, to Northern and Southern Ireland, I'm going to France, I've explored the city of Dublin pretty thoroughly - and all this in 3.5 months - so that's doing pretty well there. If I had my full 6 months + here, I would've done more (Scotland, Germany and Barcelona being the three objectives).

And I did get to try living in a different culture - it's been an absolute blast. What I've seen, I've liked - but again - not long enough. Not long enough for things like being called "love" by shop attendants to not make me giggle - not long enough to register the abnormal for an American as normal for my little sphere in the world. I haven't made friends outside of work and I just recently started making friends inside work - there's just not enough time for that in 3.5 months with everything else.

So, time is my enemy in this case. I'm choosing to go to my "home" since that's what Seattle is to me now. Ireland doesn't get to be it - so when I say "home" I mean Seattle - the city I know, love and enjoy. For 3.5 months, I did a lot. I've laughed, traveled, worked my butt off, learned a ton and then some, picked up some new phrases (to everyone's amusement),

I have a little over one month left. In that time, my only plan thus far is to spend 9 days in France in August traveling all over that country (it's something I've always wanted to do and I don't know why - so I'm going to do it dagnabbit!) However, these past few days I've questioned what it would take to make me really happy that I came here - what's left for me to do? I have things I might do, but I want to make a list of things I really really don't want to miss out on:
  • enjoy the people around me
  • get myself over to Western Ireland to Galway and the surrounding area (so I can say I've been all over this island)
That's it so far... I guess that's enough. I have a weekend of oncall stay at home evilness coming up too before I leave - and then there's the packing & moving segment of this expedition. But only two things? Is that really it? Only one of them is concrete - the other one is my favorite though between people watching, smiling, laughing and talking - it's what makes me happy. So I guess that's it. That's what I need to do in the next month. I can do that. Sounds good.

Seattle, I'll see you sometime Monday Aug 21 - the same day I say "until we meet again" to Irish soil. Ireland, I'll be back - have no fear.

Aren't you entertained by my first "thoughtful" entry in this blog? How abnormal compared to travel-logs, ineptness with appliances and funny stories. I shall have more of those another day.

11 July 2006

back to seattle?

So, although I'm officially an Irish Immigrant who can work her washer on the first try and oven too - well, I'm flying back to Seattle in mid August (19 or 20). It's time I guess. It's a bittersweet return to the states that I'm very torn over. I didn't give Ireland the chance I wanted to as a place - and I was just starting to get used to living here and having fun in the process. So I'm very disappointed at that. On the other hand, I'm returning to amazing friends. The technical details are still WIP - but I'm not changing employers. Tis just time for me to go back to Seattle (sad and happy).

How do I feel? If you couldn't tell by now - I'm shocked, happy, sad, disappointed, looking forward to my friends and altogether just trying to make the best of it.

To my Seattle friends reading this, see you in a little over a month!

Update: My flight to the states gets me in on 8/21 in the evening.

10 July 2006

World Cup Semis: France v. Portugal - with the French!

I'm lying on my couch like the lazy bum I am this weekend watching the Men's Finals of Wimbledon: Nadal v. Federer. I don't know who to cheer for!! Eeep - I love both of these players - so I'm just cheering for a good game.

I feel like I've been a massive sports fan lately - y'see, I'm in Europe and both the World Cup and Wimbledon are going on. I watch more tennis than I do football/soccer - but it's impossible to avoid World Cup hype in Ireland eventhough the Irish football team didn't even come close to qualifying for the qualifiers. To be PC and on of "the cool kids" at work, you have to know who's playing when, which coworker's rooting for what team, and have at team to cheer for. Google's been my friend in helping me track matches on my Google Homepage; I knew who my coworkers were rooting for; and I chose to cheer for England for no reason other than why not? (although now I'm cheering for France in the finals - but we'll get to that in a sec).

So - when in Europe do like the Europeans - and watch the World Cup Final! (I'd better so I know if mom's going to get stampeded in Italy when the Italians play France tonight... poor Mom - she might be traumatized if she still doesn't have luggage and deals with her first trip to Europe with the Italians winning/losing to the French [I'm not sure which would be more traumatic to my poor mother]).

So, like the other night - I'm off to cheer for France. Now, I'm only cheering for France because (a) my name's French, (b) my boss is French and so into football and the World Cup, (c) I know a cheer in French 'allez les blues' (or however you spell that - "go blue!") and (d) I might be killed if I go to Sinnott's to cheer and cheer for Italy - and I really don't feel like having a hot Frenchman murder me - not the way to go.


Sinnott's
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
For the semis the other night when France played Portugal, I went to see the game with my grinning boss, another one of our coworkers and bossman's friends. It was an absolute riot. We shoved our way into Sinnott's Pub: the place to watch France play if you're a French fan in Dublin. 45 mins before the game, the doors were shut and no one else was let in (thankfully) because it was packed that full; 45 mins before the game I was sweating like I was in mile 10 of a marathon and listening to the French sing their "fight song" and learning how to properly cheer for the French (and I must admit, I can say 'allez le blue' and hum the fight song after that match). We were sardines and we smelled horrible. But we swayed, cheered, sang and drank Guinness as one (ok - so I drank Kilkenny - the brewery had been going strong at work that day so I was too naucous thinking of Guinness). The French fans were absolutely fabulous and I had a great time screaming at the big screen tv's with them, going through some good ol' Irish pints and laughing as bossman shook his head at the tv in the second half muttering that the French were "crap". Such an envigorating evening.

So, I figure to get in tonight for an 7pm kickoff, I should get there around 4. However, I really want to see the end of the Nadal v. Federer tennis match - so I'm going to take my chances, get ready on commercials and scurry up to Sinnot's right after the final point of this championship to cheer for the French. Now, what clothes are comfy for jumping around, getting beer spilled on me, getting friendly with my neighbors and probably dying of heatstroke while watching football? Hrmmm - the problems of being a female football fan in Dublin!

09 July 2006

Q is for Queue; T is for Tennis; W is for Wimbledon

Q is for Queue - a line.


Queue
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
I spent a significant chunk of my 48 hours "doing Wimbledon" in queues of various fashions. Let us see what they were: queue for plane boarding pass; queue for security; queue for boarding; queue for Wimbledon (this one gets 10x the queue points since I slept in this queue); moving queue for Wimbledon (it gets a second mention since I walked 2 miles in this queue); strawberries and champagne queue; ice cream queue x 2; water queue x infinity; bus queue; hotel check in queue; boarding pass queue; security queue; boarding queue; immigration queue; bus queue.

Q is for Queue - a very very ginormously long line. And my new favorite word because it's bloody brilliant!

Friday June 30 I had a flight booked to fly from Dublin to Stansted (the furthest airport from London's center that's still a London airport) and get in at 9pm-ish. This would mean given the getting to the center of the city and then out the other side would take me 2 hours. So I should be in line by 11pm with my sleeping bag, Pringles, Crazy Creek Chair and water bottle. Did you notice the convenient use of the word "should" in that last sentence? I did.

Instead, my flight was delayed 45 mins on the ground in Dublin before we could board. We then sat for over an hour on the plane waiting for London airspace to clear enough for us to take off since they knew otherwise we'd just circle over London. I was a bit apprehensive since I knew that the Tube stops running at 12:30am and that was my planned route to the grounds. I managed to get into the terminal at Stansted London at around 11:30 and had to catch a 45-50 min train down to the center of London next. Excellent. Done. It's now 12:20am Sat morning and I'm in Liverpool Station in the center of London asking if there are any more trains running in the Tube that night. A lovely woman told me there would be one more Westbound train running although it wasn't going where I wanted - but it did get me a whole lot closer. I went to the platform.

On the platform with a lot of random people (and a lot of drunks) I stood apprehensively checking my map trying to figure out where I would exactly end up in the city if I got out at the various stops on this line. I also was trying to figure out if I was going to chicken out and get out and find a hotel for the night rather than the line - knowing I still had an hour to go. And the train didn't come... and it didn't come... and it didn't come.... Finally, the couple standing next to me went to the "Help?" phone and dialed the terminal attendants who told us that they "couldn't find the train, but were trying to locate it". Ummmmm - how does this happen exactly? How do you lose a train? Especially a train in underground tunnels that has an electronic tracker? Was Liverpool Station one of the points on the London Triangle where tube trains disappear? 10 minutes later they announced that the last train was cancelled and they were closing the station and we should please leave. WHAT? Oh, and the reason that they were canceling the last train was that it had hit a person at the previous station so was out of service for the night. Ok, someone was definitely having a worse night than I was.

Plodding towards the stairs with the herd, I grabbed my map to figure out where I was and try to figure out what I was going to do - I honestly had no idea. The couple next to me was muttering about something and I asked them a question about the best way to get to point X (I don't remember where it was - but it was a place I'd located that looked like it would get me on my way to a hotel - I was giving up.) However, a young man next to me told me about the "night buses" and they were the best way to get around London at night. He asked where I was going and when he found out Wimbledon, he offered to escort me most of the way there since he was heading home and was taking the bus himself. We started talking about tennis and music (he was heading home after playing with his band that night) and had a grand ol' time walking to the bus stop. My lovely tour guide in the middle of the night in the middle of London was a 19 year old musician who lived with his parents named Amir. Very nice guy. We got to our first change and he showed me where he was going on the map and where I was going on the map (same line, different stops - mine was further than his). He also showed me how to read the various schedules. The bus came....... and the driver wouldn't let me on because I didn't notice that this was a place where you had to pay in advance. My little tour guide Amir continued home and I was stuck somewhere in the middle of London at a crowded bus-stop alone at 1:30am.

Can't go home, nothing to do but continue. Thank you Amir for teaching me how to read the bus lines. I grabbed the next bus going to the area of Wimbledon and stared intently out the window trying to read the bus stop signs with frustration (it was dark, I was tired and they were all in random places). A drunk got on who was also going to the stop I was (I'm a good eavesdropper) so I started watching him and the signs. I got off at the stop and there I was in the midst of a dark town with no one around wondering where to go. I couldn't figure out where to go - but after looking at every possible sign and talking to a woman sitting on the street corner (don't ask how that happened - I was too tired to notice) I found the long long queue of tents and sleeping tennis fans. I walked a mile (calling my mother on this walk to reassure her that it was all fine after all and that her daughter would be sleeping on the street that night - the reassurance every parent wants to hear in his/her lifetime). And finally, I came to the end of the queue, got my queue number and my "A Guide to Queuing at Wimbledon" booklet (a souvenir I will keep for as long as possible). It was 3am. After giggling at the length of the line (I was #804 in my line - only the first 750 are guaranteed the option of getting tickets to a showcourt) with the woman Tamara sleeping next to me in queuing sidewalk slab #805, I passed out for a whole 2 hours of sleep.

They woke the line around 5:30am to get everyone to pack up. Those of us "towards the end" (not at the end anymore - by the time I woke up at 5:30 the last person in the queue had a card numbering over 1000) were to be ready to move in 15 mins as the moved the line forward. Mind you, I didn't realize this at the time, but we had a 2 mile queue walk in front of us since they no longer form the queue at the gates.


Flowers of Wimbledon
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
We rambled up to the place where we would sit for an hour while the stewards got the ticket situation sorted out. From 5:30am-9:30am in the queue, I met some great friends who I'd see all the rest of the day at Wimbledon. We were the middle-of-the-night queuers: we weren't as insane as the Centre Court Queuers (those who were at the front of the line and would be guarenteed the option of Centre Court) and we weren't as ambivalent about our tennis watching as the Clean Queuers (those who arrived that morning and got in the queue after the 2 mile walk). We were a merry band: me, Tamara - the Italian from London, Jo & Yvonne - the Scotts, Nadia - the Aussie, and a merry band of Aussies and Brits whose names I can't recall. When we sat down at 7:30 for our "break in the moving queue" we got out our various stashes of snacks and breakfast foods for our version of a continental breakfast: Pringles (my contribution), jelly beans, cherries, strawberries, crackers, some chocolate-y M&M like things, and other junk foods. Breakfast at Wimbledon has an entirely different meaning for me.


Yvette w/ Court 1 View
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
Finally, I found out I would be able to purchase tickets for Court 1 if I'd like. Now, the lineup for the day's matches included what would turn out to be some amazing matches: Agassi v. Nadal, Mauresmo v. Perry & Roddick v. Murray. Mauresmo v. Perry was on Court 1 - so I took that. And I soon found out that buying queue tickets for Wimbledon gives you absolutely the best seats in the house - equalled only by those given to the family boxes. I was sitting right at the net line in the front row of the ground level on Court 1. It was absolutely unreal.


The Hill
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
Around 10am we got into the grounds and our gang of sidewalk queue sleepers decided who was going where - I ended up being the only one going straight to "the hill" (aka Henman Hill or Murray Mound) because since I didn't have a Centre Court ticket, I wanted prime hill seating to watch what would eventually turn out to be Agassi's last Wimbledon match. I didn't make it to the hill till 11am due to the queue system. This was honestly the most amazingly organized queue system I have ever encountered. Maybe it's the name? Or maybe it's the queuing brochure?



Watching the Screen
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
I sat there watching people, the monitors and taking in the 30C weather. It was marvelous - absolutely brilliant. I struck up a conversation with a lovely mother/daughter pair behind me who were having a bottle of champagne and some strawberries before lunch and their venture onto Centre Court to see the Agassi match. Hearing that I was so envious of them for seeing Agassi, and the fact that I was a rare individual - an American Agassi fan (it wasn't a lack of Agassi fans, it was a lack of Americans) in the crowd - they offered me a glass of champagne. Mmmm... Then I went to get real food for lunch and came back only to befriend the massive table to my right on the top of the hill. We all had prime viewing spots - and suddenly after eatting my lunch they're making a champagne run and ask if I'd like to get in on this - sure! I'm at Wimbledon - the place where the Brits joke that the hoity toity people go to drink champagne and eat strawberries all day. So I grabbed us some cheese and crackers to add to our strawberries and champagne feast as the match of the day started: Agassi v. Nadal.


Nadal
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
The fans at Wimbledon are a different breed of sports fans - respectful and ridiculously loud. They are devoted and happy and nice people. I had an amazing time cheering, watching the match, talking to my newfound friends, drinking, eating, lathering on sunscreen (it was disgustingly sunny) and just having a merry time.

I saw Nadal beat Agassi; I saw Mauresmo beat Perry; I saw Murray beat Roddick. I caught a glimpse of Venus Williams practicing before her match on one of the back courts and I saw a game of Martina Navitalova playing. I was in T for Tennis heaven.


Agassi Says Goodbye
Originally uploaded by yvettemn.
At the end of the Roddick v. Murray match, I was exhausted. I'd slept only 2 hours in the past 40 hours - and I had to go find my hotel. So Tamara (who I'd spent a good chunk of the day with) helped me find the tube station and I made my way back up to Stansted Airport since I was staying at an airport hotel that night for my Sunday morning flight out. This time, the transport was much easier and I made it to the hotel without more than a few average queues.

I flew home Sunday after some more queues on an airline I hope to avoid in the future (they were delayed 2 hours getting me back to Dublin - not a great track record - and they had the rudest employees I've ever encountered on an airline).

So, my W for Weekend at Wimbledon was absolutely superb. Would I do it again? Of course! Like you have to ask? You and I both know I'm crazy - especially since next time I'd get to the queue earlier in the day to enjoy more of the queue evening picnic and party atmosphere and to have a chance at Centre Court tickets. But even if you're only going to be a Clean Queuer and aren't insane like me and aspiring to be a Centre Court Queuer, I recommend going to Wimbledon if you ever have the chance. Amazing tennis - amazing atmosphere - just a great time!