What Time Is It?

"Unable to connect?!?  What is flippin wrong with my computer?!"

These were some of my first words uttered on Irish soil.  It is 7:30 am (but it feels like 2:30am), I am fresh off the plane and just arrived at my new apartment, and what am I doing?  I am pleading like a lunatic with the router.  Alas, it chose to ignore my plaintive cries for help and left me unable to connect to the internet for my first two days.  This explains my delay in writing my first post, but I am getting ahead of myself.  Let me start at the beginning....

I was actually packed a few days before I was set to leave (big surprise to me since I usually wind up throwing random things in a bag the night before I go).  I narrowed down what I was bringing so that it all fit in a large suitcase, a rollaboard, and a backpack.  Actually, it mostly fit....the zipper closed after I sat on it for awhile. The weight limit was 50 pounds, and I squeeked by with 49.  Whew!  I had my e-boarding pass printed, my passport in hand, and all of the other little nutty nuisances prepared (converter plug, lock for my computer, etc.)  I felt like Rocky after just climbing up the Philly Museum staircase.  Cue "Eye of the Tiger." 

But then, my ugly little friend Doubt decided to show up, and he started whispering in my ear, "Are you sure that you can do this?"  Cut "Eye of the Tiger."  Doubt was really cramping my style with his pessimism, and I tried to just shrug him off, but he wasn't easily avoided. 

He began again.  "You will be all alone in Dublin.  Your closest relative will be across the Atlantic and no one will be there to help you.  I hope you like talking to yourself - because that is what you will be doing for the next three months without any friends!" 

Now Doubt was starting to get annoying, but his words began to seep into my thoughts.  What if I wouldn't be able to handle it?  What if I never made any friends?  What if?  What if?  What if?! 

I began to feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness and I hadn't even left yet!  I would like to say that I was brave.  I would like to say that I was so excited to begin my adventure that I gave my parents a hug and a smile and confidently boarded the plane. 

Actually, I cried like a pitiful baby the night before I left.  My mom was nervous too, so we each fed off of eachothers' worries until we both reach a panicked state.  We are both very emotional people - it must be the Italian in us.  Luckily, my dad is a calming presence, and he can usually talk me down with his cool logic.  He has a way of explaining a situation so that I see it in an entirely new light.  Both of my parents were filled with words of wisdom and reassurance.  They also gave me plenty of hugs before I left - just the right medicine to cure a freak-out. 

After a tearful good-bye, I left my parents at security at the airport.  I put all of my luggage through the machine, and then proceeded to enter x-ray. 

"Ma'am, your jacket."  Oh right, I took off my winter jacket and started again. 

"Ma'am, your other jacket."  Oh that counts too?  I was wearing a t-shirt with a tan windbreaker.  I took that off and started again. 

"Ma'am, do you have a laptop."  Oh bother!  I forgot to take it out of my backpack!

"Ma'am, we need to do a luggage check."  I was brought over to the "naughty corner" and one of the agents looked through my suitcase, thereby undoing my careful packing.  With underwear hanging out the side, my luggage went through the machine for a second time.  The agent gave me a consternated look.  "You're really batting a thousand today," she said before she went through my suitcase again.

Ah ha!  She found the culprit.  Was it drugs or some sort of exploding device?  No.  It was my small jar of peanut butter.  Apparently, peanut butter counts as a liquid now according to airport rules.  I need to go back to chemistry class to learn about solid states again.  However, at least the agent was nice, and threw the jar over the security gate back to my mom. 

On the flight, I was beginning to work myself up again.  I didn't want to be "that person" who threw up on the flight so I tried to sleep as much as possible to quell my nervous stomach.  I wouldn't be able to think about Doubt if I was unconcious.  I woke up occassionally to let out the toddler sitting next me me to go pee-pee (his words, mine), but otherwise, the flight was uneventful.

Giorgio, my landlord, picked me up at the airport.  He charged 20 euros which is a bit expensive, but it was cheaper than a taxi and so so much more convenient than the bus.  It was nice to be just be driven to my apartment instead of having to use my brain so early in the morning after a 7 hour flight.  I went through all the procedures of checking-in (signing the lease, learning garbage rules, etc.) and I met my roommate, Betta.  She sleepily waved hello, but she was still in bed, so even though I felt semi-functional, I figured it wouldn't hurt to have a catnap until a decent hour....Four hours later I woke up at noon.

Luckily, Betta is a sweetheart and she waited for me.  My first day in Dublin was wonderful because Betta spent the whole day with me showing me around town.  She has been in Dublin for 10 days so far so she acted as a tour guide and showed me some of the highlights of the city.

My roommate is from Gorizia, which is a small town near Venice.  It is at the very edge of Italy - the town of Gorizia is actually cut in half with part belonging to Slovenia.  Betta claims that her English isn't very good, but I disagree.  Occassionally, I will say something, and she will smile, and I know that she has no idea what I just said.  Or she will confuse words like "taxes" versus "taxis."  But, most of the time, we understand each other perfectly.  I am incredibly impressed that she speaks English so well.  Actually, we spent all weekend talking and getting to know each other. I am so happy that I have a wonderful roommate - it makes such a difference! 

My other roommates aren't really around that often.  There is a couple from Belguim and a single guy from Brazil, but they all stay in their rooms most of time.  I met them and introduced myself, but aside from that, we really haven't interacted.  In fact, all weekend, I saw them maybe twice.  We are all living together, but it's like I'm living with elves instead of people.  I just see the remnants of their existence, like a used coffee cup or a filled trash can, but I never actually see them!  At least Betta is friendly and kind, however, so I have one friend so far.  That's better than none!  I'm off to a great start - I'll write again soon.