whiskey before roads.

Today I came to the realization that NUI: Galway is a lot like high school.  The girls are pretty and migrate together in inapproachable herds.  The boys are all bros in equally (if not more) inapproachable masses.  What's worse, these gaggles make unnecessary pit stops in the hallway, waiting for stragglers or pausing to gossip (because, everyone who's anyone knows you can't walk and talk at the same time).  As I was rushing to class this morning (on the verge of being late because of America's Next Top Model), I found myself murmuring angrily under my breath about how selfish and immature it is to stop in the middle of the hallway like it's the only way to ~*prove your popularity*~ or like no one else it the world could possibly need to get around you.  Insert eye-roll here.  And that's when I realized: I was back at Hilliard Darby High School.

Except, the last time I checked I was 20 years old.

The parallels don't stop there, either.  All my classes are lectures, and it's just so reminiscent of Mr. Wolf standing up at the front of the class (or, given the quality of my lecturers, rather not like Mr. Wolf) that I'm 15 all over again.  A few of the insecurities are back, as well.  Since everyone dresses so posh and cares so much about make-up, whenever I hear someone laughing near me, I always think they're laughing at what I'm wearing or the way my hair looks.  It's pure torture, really, because all I really want in life right now (yes, I have low priorities, so sue me) is for a boy to tell me that I'm pretty, or for someone I really admire here to ask me to hang out with them sometime.  It could be the most random act of kindness, but you know, one thing I'm realizing as I get older is that every little thing counts.  You have no idea how many notes from middle school I have saved, or letters from family when I'm away at camp.

I'm telling you, guys, let everyone know how much you love them. (I'm taking this page from the Awesome Life of Corey Patrick Harkins, by the way.)  Tell them they're beautiful and everything that makes you smile about them.  You'll feel better and it really means the world to them.

Dear Johnny Weir: You are awesome and beautiful and I love you.  Wow, that felt good.  :)

On Friday, I got the best surprise in the mail ever received by anyone in the history of man.  Yes, I am talking about Welcome to my World by Johnny Weir.  I read it in about 12 hours, a record for someone like me.  It's hard to imagine that everything I feel about Johnny could be summed up in 200-or-so pages, but it's a miracle, really.  He is very open and self-aware, and I really began to feel so much closer to him.  My arena has always been academics rather than a rink, but my parents are so supportive of me, and have sacrificed so much so that I can be where I am today (which is Ireland, by the way).  He's shy in large crowds, uses art as a release, and is a little bit petulant (okay, make that a lot)... Somehow, he touched every single reason why I love him (his artistry, unwillingness to compromise who he is, his pride in his upbringing/background, his innate talent, his passion, his vulnerability) and every single reason why I hate him (his petulance, his melodrama, his headcasing, his love of frivolous luxury, his ego, his treatment of Priscilla Hill).

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that it's an amazing look into the life of an absolutely amazing athlete and artist.  Definitely a worthwhile read.

Oh, yeah, and on Sunday, we went to Connemara.

(Kylemore Abbey)

I realized something else earlier, and that's that I am not an Urbanite.  I can't live in a city or a suburb without an open space to frolic through nearby.  Every single time the bus stopped on the way to Connemara was like an emotional release.  I don't know quite how to describe it, but being able to run around and spin and skip and jump and twirl was like breaking free from these old, heavy, depressive chains.  It didn't matter that the sun wasn't really shining.  It didn't matter that I'm uncomfortable in social situations.  I was in my element.  The air was fresh; I was "psh, pssh"ing at birds like a happy fool; and I really felt like I could do anything.

This is what I want to be doing, what I need to be doing.  I need to be climbing mountains and running through the woods.  I don't think I'm going to waste any more weekends, and I've already started compiling a list of places I absolutely need to visit.  Among these are Fountain's Abbey in Yorkshire, Croagh Patrick in Co. Mayo, the Dingle Peninsula, Kilkenney, Cork, Switzerland, all over Germany multiple times, Majorca... The list goes on and on.  I even thought about making a financially irresponsible decision and flying to Japan for Spring Break.  Wow, daring.  

I don't have much else to say about how Connemara made me feel, and I think pictures say it best, anyway, so here are a few awesome ones from the trip.

That may/may not be the Burren in the background...

 Connemara ponies :D

 "On this site in 1897 nothing happened..."

At the birthplace of the world.

These are "cottier" fields which would be worked by laborers in exchange for a place to live on the land.  A program that developed Ireland into a nation of paupers in the 17th and 18th centuries...

Something also amazing happened on Sunday, and I'll leave you with this because I think that this entry is already way too long.  RYAN BRADLEY IS THE NEW U.S. MEN'S FIGURE SKATING NATIONAL CHAMPION.  Guys, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this to happen.  He's competed at 11 Nationals and I'm pretty sure he's been the pewter medalist and first-alternate to Worlds more times than anyone ever.  Plus, it's a big "screw you" to those who doubt any skater in their late-20s.  Yeah, that's right.  JEN GRAHAM: SOCHI 2014.  Just kidding, but, really.  Wanna know how much I was dedicated to this?  I Skyped with mom with her camera turned towards the T.V. just so I could watch this happen.  Think I'm kidding?

This... this is the face of dedication.  This is the face of your new Champion.  :D

Goals for next week:

Trip to Cliffs of Moher/The Burren

Find a bicycle

Mail more post-cards

Have a berry Bulmers and make it home alright

Rent an instrument?

Go to a German Soc event

Practice my [nonexistent] Gaeilge