Notes from Ireland

Irish women love their white pants.

The other day in the University restaurant, I was asked if I would like chips (French fries) with my taco.

On Sundays, drapes are closed over the liquor shelves, even though during the week you can buy a bottle of Jameson (and anything else you want) at the 24-hour convenience store.

The weather changes about eight times in the course of one day. Also,every day feels like two—a good thing—because it doesn’t get dark out until about 11:00 p.m.

Irish bus drivers are nicer than American [insert service profession].

The bread is amazing and they seed everything, including croissants. I freaking love it.

Books, magazines, and regular paper are super expensive.

Real Men drink (Bulmer’s) hard apple cider.

Every Irish citizen knows every bit of Irish history.

I went to see an Arthur Miller production at Dublin’s Gate Theater. At intermission, some lovely Irish ladies said they were having trouble understanding what was happening because of the accents.

When you order a gin and tonic, you get gin and a wee bottle of tonic. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

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