there's nothing like you and I..

Ireland

Day 5

The next morning, we traveled to my favorite city of the trip: Edinburgh, UK. We first stumbled upon a little cemetery that we ended up spending at least an hour at. It was so serene. I had never realized how much I love cemeteries. There is so much history there and love and loss and.. I don't know, they are just really beautiful. I think the oldest gravestone we found was from the 18th century..

One of the first sights was Edinburgh Castle. Parts of it were built in 1093 (!), but was mostly noted for the conflicts it was involved in during the 14th through 18th centuries, as it is quite militaristic (cannons were shot while we were there!.. well fake ones clearly..) It was so cool. But, it was a tad expensive for the tour, plus we had our eyes on a different castle in the city to go visit, so we just scoured the area and went in just the very first part of Edinburgh Castle.

So we wandered some more and finally came upon the Holyrood Palace, official residence of the Queen Elizabeth II when she is in Scotland. The castle is open to the public year-round, except for one week at the beginning of the summer when the Queen is staying there.

We did not know this.

We could hear Scottish music (bagpipes and such) as we approached the castle, and when we entered the gates, we see this huge ceremony. And there is the Queen. The Queen of England. We saw. The Queen of England.

Unfortunately I didn't get grand pictures of her because people were always surrounding her. (I did crawl on the fortress barrier in order to try, but was yelled at by the guards. People rolled their eyes at the crazy American. All in a day's work.) But crazy, right? I mean, disappointing that we didn't get to tour the Palace, but I mean whatever. We saw the Queen. Of England.

Then we had dinner at another pub.. I had a delightful Irish coffee (Much better than Foldgers + Jack.. bleh.) I wrote down a cute quote on the wall that I plan on making a canvas of for my wall next year:

CARPE DIEM

Whilst we talk, time will have run

meanly on: therefore pluck the

fruits of today, heading not

the morrow. Horace 65-8 BC

Cute, yea? (Oh, and as for the photo, I snapped this one when I saw an old couple sneak off to an alley. And I'm in love with it. It is a perfect example of this adorable town.

So we went on our merry way. We had booked the b&b we had already stayed at in Stranraer because it was cute and we liked it and we had to be at the ferry early (like 9am I think..) So we started to make our way, but after quite a bit of traveling, we could see that we had quite a ways to go. So we stopped at a cute town with another lovely cemetery and another pub to get our much needed scotch fix. Turns out this pub was rather annoying because it housed a bunch of Americans for the duration of our drink (s). Ew.

So we're driving on crazy Scotish roads in the middle of the night and we very nearly run out of gas. It came down to not would we have to walk, but how far. Yikes. But we made it. I think they hide pockets of gas in their tanks Unlike in America. Sweet.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Wish you were here.

Ireland

(ps. title of post: "Beautiful Gorgeous Wish you were here" is from what movie? Hints: must-see chick flick.. stars Meg Ryan)

Day 3

Ok, so we land in Ireland.

Since you know, apparently our luggage was already there somewhere, we go looking for it. "We don't have any missing luggage." they tell us. Hmm.. we check baggage claim (from our flight). There it is. It was on our flight. It was not already in Shannon. JFK lied to us because they didn't want to look for it. Fabulous. (that was my last whine-fest about our airline troubles I promise!)

So we are traveling in our hire (in Europe you do not rent cars, you hire them). The steering wheel is on the wrong side of the car. We drive on the wrong side of the road. The stick (manual car) is handled via your left hand.

We hit two vehicles within the first hour. Not. Lying.

I say "we" because I feel bad blaming my brother because he was the only one of legal age (like 21 or somethigng..) to be driving said rental car (or skilled in handling the stick). --Legality aside, I did drive it for a grand total of 5 blocks just so I could say I did ;)

Anyways.. Those were our only two accidents for the whole trip, and they were both just busting up other people's side-rearview mirrors. No big deal.

Then we drive (through which I slept much of..) from the airport to Belfast. Oh yea Jaim met us at the airport in shannon.. Our ferry from Belfast, scheduled to leave at.. 8pm I think, gets cancelled due to "technical difficulties" (uhh.. sketch.) So we find a pub for supper, where I promptly order my first Guiness for the trip. Sadly, throughout our stay, throughout the drinks I ordered, I was not once carded. I had my 18-year-old ID all ready and everything, but they just don't care. I love Ireland.

Our re-scheduled ferry leaves 3-hours later--disappointing because it is now dark outside and we can no longer see our gorgeous surroundings.

Day 4

We finally reach Stranraer, UK at about 1am. Our b&b is aDORable. Sleep. Ahhh..

In the AM we get a full Scotish breakfast from our host (lies.. Luke gets the full breakfast, the girls grab some toast and coffee. Half-cooked piggie? I'll pass.)

We had planned to go up to Isle of Sky (like wayyy northern Scotland), but we had to reevaluate due to losing an entire day because of airplanes!! (whoops I was supposed to let that go..) So we make our way via the hire to Galloway Forest Park, a huge like "national park" by our standards.. Studying our travel books, we find a cute little hike that says will take about 2 hours. Ha. That's hilarious. I mean, none of us are monster hikers, but there is No way that hike could take 2 hours..we circled a lake! It took most of the day.. no big deal. It was beyond gorgeous. I took so. many. photos. And internet is shite out here in no-mans-land, so I'm not going to even try to upload many photos.. maybe a couple.

So.. exhaustion stole the rest of our night. Plus it took us many a stresses to find our b&b (I mean, not for me, because, as quickly became a general rule of thumb, I was sleeping).. Aaaand, I don't even remember what town that was in.. Whatever the case, the floor had red carpeting that reminded me of my childhood (scared? ;)) and the bathroom had mirrors on three walls (which did Not remind me of my childhood.) It was.. interesting.

Trivia Answer: French Kiss

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6mb1wFPRhs

about 15 seconds in..

oh my bags are packed..

Ireland

Day one

Woke up (a tad hungover and with an awful cold), studied, packed, took my last final. Got on an airplane, flew to Cincinnati. Upon arrival, we learn that our flight to JFK (New York), is delayed because of "air traffic control issues." This? Sucks. Our delayed flight is scheduled to arrive at JFK at 10pm. Our flight to Shannon, Ireland is scheduled to depart from JFK at 9:50pm. Fuck. There is a flight to Dublin, Ireland scheduled to depart from JFK at 10:25pm. We get on standby for this.. we relax a bit, though it will still be close to make it on time.

Upon arrival in New York, we push our way off the plane and sprint ACROSS the airport (6th largest airport in the U.S. btw..) We get to the gate as our plane is still there! Two out of breath and sweating girls are standing at the counter arguing with the airline people. uh-oh. The plane is full. The next flight is not for 24 hours. Luke talks to Delta (the airline we booked our flight through, who I will boycott for the rest of my life), and they claim it is not their fault. Even though they delayed our flight. Which caused us to miss our transfer flight. And put us on standby (along with 15 other people) to a flight that was already overbooked. They claimed it was out of their hands that JFK had air traffic control issues. But why did they book flights for us that only gave us a one-hour layover in New York City? the busiest city in America? In an airport that is notorious for delaying flights?

Day Two (like midnight)

So, after arging for 2 hours, we got no hotel vouchers, not apologies, nothing. We were tired and crabby. We decided to go get our luggage and purchase a hotel room for the night (for a million and a half dollars). At baggage claim, the annoyed and half-asleep airline gal informs us that she would go "look" for our luggage. She says it may take hours. Fine.

Five minutes later, she returns and informs us that our luggage made the flight that we did not. They were waiting for us in Shannon. Really?

It is now about midnight, and we start calling nearby hotels. Best Western? Full. Hilton? Full. Holiday Inn? Full. Super 8? Full. Sheraton? Full.

You get the picture. Apparently many people missed their flights due to JFK's stupidity and all hotels relatively near the airport were completely full. Cab fare to Newark, New Jersey? $150. Fine, we'd pay it. Start calling hotels in Newark--they are all full!

Sensing our distress, a man who I can only assume to be homeless, lets us know where the best areas to sleep in the airport are. Oh and by best, I mean small cushions are on the chairs we push together.

This whole fiasco? Is Not the worst of it. Gina, via her Blackberry, sees a news article about the volcano in Iceland. Another mini-erruption. More ash in the air. Flight cancellations expected for the next three days across Britain. And Ireland.

I do not sleep. When the shops in the airport finally open, I go to the bookstore. Through tear-filled eyes, I look up new destinations in travel books: Barcelona, Paris, the fucking Caribbean. We watch the boards. London closes. Dublin closes. We're fucked for sure. We go talk to Delta again:

"What exactly happens if our flight to Shannon gets cancelled? Do we get a refund?"

"Why would your flight get cancelled?"

"Umm.. because all of Britain has closed their airports.. and parts of Ireland.. because of the volcano......."

pause. pause. pause. blank looks. pause. "Ohhh the volcano.. of course.. Your flight isn't cancelled though."

"Rrrright.. but we are foreseeing it getting cancelled.. do we get any sort of refund?"

"But your flight isn't cancelled. If it does get cancelled, it won't be Delta's fault because it is a weather issue. You will get no refund."

We decided to leave it be. Talking to Delta is hopeless. Talking to anyone in this God-forsaken airport is hopeless. We have 12 hours to kill before our flight (which at this point may or may not be taking place..). We head to Midtown for a bit of shopping =) (poor Luke..)

I have always wanted to visit Manhattan, but honestly my ideal was not to have slept in an airport the night before and have slept-in/comfy airline clothes on and no makeup and frumpy hair. So I was a bit grumpy. Manhattan people are chic. I felt like Carrie Bradshaw in that episode of Sex and the City when she first goes to Paris and it's raining and she slips and falls in the lovely Dior. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5uqy_FMNaJ4&feature=player_embedded

Luckily, I didn't feel a strong enough embarrassment to buy out all the stores to prove my worth as Carrie did.. mainly because I am not worth much (money-wise..) So despite my self-consciousness, it was pretty amazing.

It was at this point, that our luck began to turn. By some twist of faith, Peter was going to be in New York for work this week, and he had decided to come a day early to catch the Twins game at the new Yankee Stadium. He put us on his reservation, so after shopping we train-ed and bussed our way over to his hotel (in Newark) and got to take showers! Said a quick hello to Pete after his game and made our way back to the airport.

We were still unsure of our flight, why had it not yet been cancelled? We boarded. The pilot came on the PA system: "Well we're gonna take off.. mid-flight, if Shannon gets closed, we will re-route.." The stewardess mentions that a highly possible re-route is Paris.. hmm.. maybe this won't be terrible.. I will have to buy a new wardrobe....

Day Three

Because the wind was blowing in a certain direction, and Shannon is over on the West coast (or perhaps because the Man up there decided we had had enough abuse for awhile..), we made it. We made it to Ireland.

I saw the light I've been baptized by the fire in your touch and the flame in your eyes..

drunk blogging is soooo not flattering, but here goes.

Just saw Brooks and Dunn in their farewell tour concert final rodeo thing, and decided to cry. Ok I didn't, but I sooo wanted to. It was so great! I want to be a cowgirl! Ah eep that is not what I meant.. umm... I want to be a country girl! It's so funny because I don't actually want to be a country girl ever when I am learning about doctor-ey stuff or when I am actually stuck back in Osakis for a couple of days, then I hate the country and I don't like it that way. But when I hear country music that makes me think of all the fun times (which really are a large number but my city experiences are already catching that number and I have lived here for just 9 months in comparison to you know like 18 years. Plus. ) What was I saying? Ummmm oh right. Country music is like The best music ever (also not a fact, I just am saying it now for some reason unknown to me).. it is so, you know, like drinky and happy and carefree.. or else very drama-y and sad and lovey dovey.. I am not very drinky or happy or carefree or drama-y or sad or lovey dovey. SO I am not positive why I like the music. Because it is not me? LIkely. It corelates (definitely doesn't look right spelling wise but I can't decide what's right?) with my taste in movies. I don't like action or comedyor romantic or horror or sci fi or porn (ha I was running out of genres..) point is, I like normal movies. WHere people live normal lives and shit happens and they deal. Yea so these tend to be indie films, why? because normal people don't like to watch these types of movies and so they are generally low budget (aka indie) and you know what? those are the movies that win academy awards! coincidence? Pienso que no! (don't know why spanish just came out of my fingers..)

Somehow I got from the lovely Brooks and Dunn to indie movies.. I don't get it..

hold on, I will upload a pic of my favorite soon to be done-zo duo..oh yea and this pic rocks even though we were up in the nosebleeds..papapapaparazzi..

..couldn't help myself: this guy proposed on stage.. cute!

and a close up of Kix's high level of excitement during the ordeal.

I can't relate to my heart now..

hmmmmmm

hmmm

hm.

I feel like I've had nothing to eat but coffee.

I actually haven't had coffee for about 7 hours.

And I had some apple sauce and noodles for supper. I mean, not together. In separate dishes. Ew.

So I just feel like this.. because.

=)

she could change everything about her using colors bold and bright, but all the colors mix together--to grey.

I think I'm .. different.

So I watch this show GossipGirl.. lame I know.. but anyways, a bit of background is perhaps needed:



Serena (Blake Lively) is basically the heroine. She is gorgeous and always is the victim and her mom is like dying or something and her dad is scamming them..and she has the Most gorgeous guy, Nate (Chase Crawford..). Another character, Jenny (Taylor Momsen), is like, the antagonist. She's like 15 or something and deals drugs and cuts school and tried to kiss Nate. She's a little..quite.. psychotic.



Anyways, Jenny is my favorite character. I don't even know why. Everyone hates Jenny and loves Serena. I hate Serena. Jenny has problems and is still like bad-ass. Serena is a drama queen and tries to make you cry about her problems with her. Ugh. Man up. People have their own problems.




So anyways..that's all. I think my world uses different colors than other peoples'...

this could be messy, but you don't seem to mind..

=)








oh yea,

Chemistry.

I'm blind and waiting for you..

I hate that I did this to myself. Because I don't do this. Ever. I thought that the little things were somethings. I was wrong. Those little things didn't even exist. I made them up. I put them there.

And even you. I made you into something better than you are.

I'll be fine because.. nothing happened. Nothing existed. It was just a dream.

--------

I was a little girl alone in my little world who dreamed of a little home for me. I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves, and laughed in my pretty bed of green. I had a dream that I could fly from the highest swing. I had a dream. Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be. The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep. I had a dream that I could fly from the highest tree.

I had a dream.

I hope my smile can distract you..

So when I was twelve (aka high school.. which was just last year, but looking back, it seems like it was five years ago.. so let's sum it up with twelve.)

anyways, I had a camera. It broke like.. err.. Octoberish of Senior year. Not a big deal, whatever. I mean it probably was back then, but whatever, not the point.

So I found that camera today and found a way to view the old photos. I cried. (yea, what else is new)..

Lovely: Lucky 7 (6) before Homecoming dance =) -- pretty free and loose with the label "Lucky 7" at that point in time.. though we did nearly all manage to take pictures before Homecoming again.. sans SLK =(

Joyous: Junior/Senior wars.. -- oh yea, my school was the size of a peanut.

LMAO: videos of 'pong' night -- entire class of twelve year olds (and a select few younger twelve-year-olds..) used to get together once a week to be awesome. Ha. These videos were a bit ridiculous.. maybe I should adjust my too-high assesment of our maturity level--I think we were probably ten-year-olds here.

Openly wept on my mother's shoulder: Twins game with Andy. Andy was my cousin. I didn't even know him. He died last summer due to a heart defect. He was 17.

When I heard that my dad's cousin was moving to Osakis the summer before my senior year, I was very excited. Being the youngest of six, I had always wanted a younger sibling to take under my wing. I really wasn't a fantastic role model, nor did I have some great advice or leadership skills. For these reasons, I wanted someone who had to look up to me. Because I was blood. I was very happy to hear my victim was a boy--I hate girls. Too emotional.

(ha, yikes. harsh.)

So I snatched this boy up and brought him to all my senior parties to show him off to all my friends. Ok, so he was on the football team and just a year younger than me and I lived in Osakis. So everyone already knew him. Knew him better than me.

I brought him to a twins game to get to know him better and so he could meet some of his other cousins (my brothers and Jaim), and I completely fell in love with this kid. You see, his Grandpa and my Grandpa are brothers. Who live a couple miles from each other. Who never speak to each other. Because they're Grundmans. And Grundmans are crazy. Anyways, Andy and I swapped one-sided stories. He called my Dad Tommy... ok.. tears again. It really was the best day ever. I was looking for a toy to show off to my friends, but instead I got Andy. Thank-you God. I got Andy.

Andy was, strange. I mean really though, he was strange in the way that all Grundmans are strange. Just like goofy and tempermental and in his own head most of the time. But also he was from the big city and we are all like hicks and it was just.. rough for him I think. He was always very homesick for his friends back home. He slowly faded from my group of friends and found new people to hang out with. I slowly talked less and less to him. Because? It was my senior year. I was Busy. (these are my pathetic, sick, make-my-princess-ass-feel-less-guilty, lame excuses.. we actually grew apart because I am a bitch and didn't make time for my own cousin.)

So when Andy got sick last summer, I guess I didn't understand. Because I was still a twelve year old. And then it was like all of a sudden, I was going to his funeral. And nothing matters ever because this 17 year old died. He didn't get to live. God gave me a fucking year to meet this wonderful person and I even knew he was wonderful because I did try at first and found out that he was just such a great person and I loved to talk to him and then I fucking blew it because I didn't understand. I didn't understand that you don't get to have more chances. You onlyget now. It is only now. And everything in the world? Is nothing. People are everything. When someone like that comes into your life, fucking hold on! They will not be there ever again! Because life is Not fair and you have to assume that the good will go away soon enough so when you have it, I don't know. Love it.

If you are ever (EVER) talking to someone or listening to someone or looking at someone and you think to yourself, I like this person, I want you to please, please, freak out. Ask for their phone number and bring them to a Twins game and then to another one next month. Just love them. Call them. Daily. Make them a priority.

I hated being twelve. It hurts. A lot. Learning is awful, painful, scary, lonely, and beautiful.

And I pretend I'm not twelve anymore, but I think I still will be for awhile.

sleepwalker don't be shy.

No lie, I just discovered this song..right now on Pandora:

You said I began
This messy state of love affair
And I drink too much and smoke too fast
And this city's cleared my innocence

Coffee is pouring out my ears
It's the only thing they have in here
And my heart stops beating

And when it stops it stops
My heart stopped beating
And when it stops it stops
My heart stopped beating

Number tree still on my plate
I heard the trains are running late
And I laugh out loud
My life is a mess
I have gone too far
In my lifelessness

Another coffee it's on the house
The poor girl look is on the owners spouse
And my heart stopped beating
........

It's by Emiliana Torrini (called Heartstopper).. Really? I mean I feel like she lived my day today and then wrote a song about it and then sent it to me via Pandora.. Or even could have just read my post from earlier today. Strange. Maybe I'll lock the door tonight.

get wasted on anything that's right.

Buzzer.

9:30. Fuck.

Has my alarm been going off for 2 1/2 hours? It's likely.

Scarf down breakfast. Don't shower. Pack Chemistry book.

Miss the bus. It's raining.

Ten minutes late for class. Important final-review class.

I can't sit still. My Special K is heavy in my stomach, I need to throw up. I can't concentrate. I draw a lightning bolt on my hand. I don't know why. I listen to my heart beat instead of the teacher. My eyes are burning. I need to throw up. My heart is beating. so. slowly. I take my pulse--50 bpm. This? Can't be normal. I watch the clock. It doesn't move. My heart doesn't either. What if I die in Art History class? That would suck. My heart might stop. It is headed in that direction leastways.

She continues to talk past the hour. Really? I can't handle this.

Finally, I jump from my seat and run to my savior. Yes. Run. Did I forget my iPod? I don't care.

I pour coffee into me.

I wonder, is this the same as drugs? Probably drugs would be healthier.

it takes more than fucking someone you don't know to keep warm.

Hey.

So, I have some self-esteem issues.

In that mine is low to non-existant.

I should probably work on that.