Looking Back

I’ve been home for two weeks now. It’s hard to believe that ten weeks ago my passport sat on my dresser, stampless, and now it sits with a green stamp that signifies so much.

It signifies amazing friendships I have made. I started this summer living with three strangers and ended the summer living with three family members. I could never have predicted how well we would all get along, nor could I have predicted how much I would miss them. I loved every afternoon chat, family dinner, late night weirding-it-out, and facebook spam session. The new friendships weren’t limited to just my apartment either. It stretched to those living above me (yes, Andrew Prickett, you get mentioned two blog posts in a row!), those living below me, and everywhere in between. I discovered many new things about myself with your help (like my culinary skills with French toast and that my grip becomes incredibly bad when in Europe). My summer wouldn’t have been the same, or nearly as fun, without all of you and for that I am eternally grateful.

It signifies an incredible work experience. I got a taste of each stage in filming. I did pre-production research, filming during production, and post-production editing, all for an established film production company. 22-minutes of my work will be aired on TV for people to watch. My name will go by in the credits of two docu-series. Did I mention on TV?? I can’t believe the opportunities I was given this summer. I have something seriously substantial to put on my resume. I am on a credit reel, my first major credit reel. Sorry, it’s still sinking in. As if the work experience weren’t enough, the people I worked with were positively lovely. Having such a pleasant work environment made it even harder to leave Ireland.

It signifies a summer that I will never forget. From the travel to the pubs to the friends to the boys, this summer has been one for the record books in all the best ways.  I feel so blessed to have had this incredibly opportunity, and I can’t wait to see how it continues to affect my life.

It signifies a new vocabulary. Here are just a few of the words I learned this summer—

Savage=cool

Negging=pulling your leg

Shifting=kissing

Lushing=raining hard

Raging=so upset/jealous

Cheers=thank you

Keeping sketch=keeping track of

Suss it out=figure it out

Gas=funny (as in, that person is gas)

Brellies=umbrellas

Jellies=jelly beans

Wine gums=fruit snacks

Wellies=rainboots

Raincoats=condoms

Fringe=bangs

Zip=zipper

High vis=fluorescent

There are others I heard, because Catherine was always throwing Irish slang at me, but I didn’t write them down before I forgot them.

Classes start this Monday and my summer is officially over. As happy I am to be back in Happy Valley, a part of my heart will always reside in Dublin.

And here it is, the end to my ‘Summer in Dublin’ blog. Not ready to say goodbye, but the merry months of June and July have passed and as August comes to a close, so do my posts. Thanks for reading. It’s been real.

Denial

This week was easily the fastest week of the summer. I have no idea where it went, but now that it’s gone I’ve got this giant lump in my stomach that feels a lot like dread. Dread for the plane ride that lies ahead of me tomorrow.

I have this theory that if I continue to live in denial than that means my time here won’t end. If I never get around to packing (which I still haven’t started) than that means I don’t have to leave, right? I can’t pinpoint what triggered it (I just know it was within the first weekend), but Ireland swept me off my feet, and I have no intention of coming back down.

Monday only helped to strengthen the bond between Ireland and I. It was a bank holiday, giving me a day off work, so I took the opportunity to visit Kilmainham Goal. It was the jail that was home to thousands of Irish men, women, and children during the famine and the revolutions leading up to Ireland becoming its own republic. I learned a lot about the bloody past between Ireland and Britain and how the Republic of Ireland gained their independence. Walking through the halls of the jail was so eerie. Thinking about being a prisoner and living there, it gave me chills. The stone staircases were all caved in at the middle from all the use. The west wing was the oldest. The prisoners would be given one candle every two weeks, and that would be there only source of light and heat. There were windows in the hallways, but they were kept bare, with no panes to keep the cold air out. The east wing, which was added later, was a bit nicer. It had a giant skylight to allow for a lot more light. It also had manholes in the corridor area that would allow steam from the kitchen and washrooms to come up and heat the cells.

As you can see from the picture, I don’t do well in jail.

Things are coming along really well at work. I finished up all my editing today. Now, I’m just waiting 5 years for it all to export. The 22-minute behind-the-scenes I put together will be aired on TV on Setanta Sports following the conclusion of the Yes I Can docu-series. And my name will be in the credits for Yes I Can and The Club as Production Assistant. Everyone who watches the shows will know my name. It’s only a matter of time before I strike gold on some big blockbuster and treat my parents to a summer in Ireland. My last day on the job was fun, but sad. Fun because my boss had my supervisor, Catherine, take me out to lunch but sad because, obviously, it was my last day. My boss called in and said she was sad to see me go and asked if there’s was anything she could do to make me stay. We all know the answer to that one.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got about three days worth of food to feast on and limited time left in Dublin to enjoy!

But before I go, I’d like to take this opportunity to dedicate this blog post to my dear friend Andrew Prickett, because he has been a good source of entertainment this summer, he helped me with half of my computer issues, but mostly because he was disappointed I hadn’t mentioned him yet. This is for you, Andrew. Cheers!

Never Play Leapfrog With A Unicorn

The weekend was definitely something different from the city life I have become accustomed to in Dublin. Five of us girls took the train to Killarney and stayed at a farmhouse B&B. I could tell the difference between Killarney and Dublin as soon as I stepped off the train. It wasn’t an overwhelming silence like Howth or Sandycove; Killarney still had a nice sized City Centre and had a small carnival going on with all kinds of rides and various stands. It was more just the overall atmosphere. There wasn’t as much hustle and bustle, or maybe it was just that I wasn’t speed walking to my next destination. Whatever the case, Killarney just seemed to be giving off a more relaxed vibe, which is saying something because all of Ireland itself is has seemed very relaxed.

The B&B was three miles from downtown Killarney, so we had to take a cab. The area was beautiful. It had a wide-open yard covered in sheep, and various pens on the edge of their property that housed donkeys, potbelly pigs, ducks, emus, and chickens. They had a stable that was home to horses, a large little of bunnies, and puppies.

It was the sort of place I would normally spend my summers, and it was an odd feeling being there after living in the city all summer. It felt almost as if the past seven weeks couldn’t have been real, like my summer hadn’t started yet. While we were exploring the grounds, we could see into the Killarney National Park Forest. It was gorgeous! It was so green, and mystical, like a forest you would see in Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings but would never think that it was real. My vote for the next family vacation is backpacking through the Killarney National Park.

That night we went into Killarney for dinner. Our cab driver recommended Murphy’s Pub. We listened and were very thankful. The food was delicious, and we got to watch some gaelic football between Donegal and Kildare. Hanging on the wall was a Murphy’s Pub shirt that listed off Murphy’s Laws. They were all very insightful, but one I found particularly enlightening: “Never play leapfrog with a unicorn.”

After dinner we walked around the downtown streets, taking in the various aspects of the summer festival they were having and looking for champion golfer Rory McIlroy. It was the weekend of the Irish Open, so what better time to run into some pro golfers, right? Our searching was in vain, as to be expected. Our cab driver told us that the golfers had been out earlier in the week just after they had arrived, but know that the Irish Open was in full swing, they would be spending their nights resting in their hotel rooms. A bit disappointing, but the night wasn’t a total loss, I did learn never to play leapfrog with a unicorn.

The next morning, as I got ready, I heard the horses coming back into the stables from the open yard. The farmhouse and animals already made me feel like I was back at the Ranch, but that was just the icing on the cake. I could picture Courtney, Liz, and April sending the horses running from down in the fields up to the barn to prepare them for the campers.

After a delicious homemade Irish breakfast and my first freshly brewed coffee of the summer (okay my first three, but it was really good and they were small cups), we said goodbye to our cute B&B and it’s owners. We went into Killarney once more where we got on a tour bus that would take us around the Ring of Kerry. The Ring of Kerry is a tour loop that shows you the beauty of County Kerry. The weather and the land were both gorgeous. I can’t even begin to describe it in words, and I know these pictures won’t do it justice, but if you are lucky enough to make it to Ireland, the Ring of Kerry is definitely something you need to see.

We arrived back in Killarney with just enough time to pop into Penney’s to find some inexpensive all-white things to wear out that night. Dandelion was having a white party, and my flat mate, Kajsia, and another girl, Sam, knew the dj for the event after meeting him last week when they spent the weekend at Sam’s supervisor’s house in Wicklow (the dj is the supervisor’s nephew).

On the train ride back I finished my book, A Million Little Pieces. It is a really good book that is disturbing and sad, but has a few happy and uplifting bits. I definitely recommend it.

We arrived back in Dublin around 9:30 and head out donned in our white outfits. It was a great weekend in Ireland, but ended with sadness when the realization set in that is was my FINAL weekend in Ireland. If come away from it with anything it will be to never play leapfrog with a unicorn.

Number 7 Isn't Feeling That Lucky Anymore

Here marks the end to my seventh week in Dublin. Seven weeks. I never had considered seven weeks to be short, but with the speed that my summer in Ireland has flown by, I’ve learned that seven weeks is an incredibly small amount of time. Everyday sight here holds even more meaning than it did before. I can’t help thinking, this may be the last time I see that museum, that café, that street pole. In reality, I will probably pass it a good many times more, but I can’t fight off the nostalgia that is already setting in.

Seven weeks. Seven days until I board a plane taking me away from what has been my home for seven weeks. Seven is quickly becoming my least favorite number.

My seventh week at work went well like my previous six. I got a lot done editing wise. All four 5-minute clips are finished and I’ve got 15 out of 22 minutes put together on the big one. The office is much quieter now with the Finance Director, and two visiting Lead Researchers back in their respective locations and two others from the office on holiday. My bosses left Thursday, leaving the office down to two, Flavia and I. Today, Flavia left for the airport for her holiday at three so I was the only one left for my last three hours before I closed up shop for the weekend.

Tuesday, I met up with some family friends. My mom’s cousin was married by an Irish pastor and became good friends with him and his family. She and her husband have been to Ireland to visit them and vice versa. The pastor’s brother has ten boys, the youngest of which lives with his fiancé in Dublin. So, my mom’s cousin passed along his contact information, and Tuesday night we were able to meet up for pints after work (how Irish!). He and his fiancé were great fun. They were incredibly nice, treating me to Irish cider, and incredibly interesting. The amount of traveling they have done is crazy. They’ve seen so much of the world and are only 30! I hope I can cover as much ground in my next ten years. We spent nearly four hours just chatting away. They were incredibly lovely people, and I’m so glad we were finally able to meet up.

Wednesday I discovered they do play tennis here. I had noticed earlier that there were no tennis courts around. Which was odd compared to Penn State that seems to have dozens. But on my run, I happened upon Herbert Park (a beautiful and large park not too far from where I work) and saw my first tennis courts and tennis players of the summer. I was so surprised; it took me a minute to realize what sport I was watching. I still have yet to see a baseball field or basketball court, though. I feel like I might be much less likely to come by those.

Thursday I went out with the roommates to try and finish up my Christmas and birthday shopping. I got close, but a few people are still alluding me. We happened upon this beautiful little shop called Avoca. It was filled with the most adorable furnishings for your house. It was torture, really. Picking out all these cute things for my apartment that I knew I had no way of getting home.

That night we went to Whelan’s Pub where a band was playing. Their choruses were simple enough that I could catch on after the first time through, so it looked like I knew the words and was a native Dubliner just out to see my favorite band. As much as I love singing along to the traditional Irish music (which I can do now without missing a beat!) it was a nice change of pace to be able to jump around to something a bit edgier. It reminded me of concerts and shows I had spent the early part of my last summer going to.

Now, as I close out my seventh week in my new favorite city, I am packing in preparation for my weekend in Killarney. I’ll be spending the night at a farmhouse on the edge of Ireland’s largest National Park. I can’t wait to explore the forests and play with the farm animals. I just pray that time slows down so I don’t blink and have this weekend be gone.

"And I Lost My Heart to A Galway Girl"

I can officially say I’ve been to a private screening of blockbuster movie. Last Tuesday, my bosses opened up their (very posh) home to those of us in the Irish office, as well as the Finance Director in from Poland and Lead Researchers of the Lisbon and London offices that were here for the week, to screen a film they co-produced in London. It is called The Knot and is a dramatic comedy that follows the two separate storylines of the bride on the wedding day and the groom on the wedding day until they meet at the church and then continue on together to the reception with the movie ending as they leave for their honeymoon. I really enjoyed it and thought it was quite funny. It is great for both men and women because it had that romantic comedy aspect with the bride and her bridesmaids, and then the vulgar comedy aspect with the groom and his groomsmen. It is set to come out around Valentine’s Day next year in the UK. They are looking for an international distributor to get on board, which will hopefully come through so that it can be brought to the US.

Wednesday was the championship game for Round Towers (the Gaelic football team we’re making a documentary on). It was an incredibly exciting and tense game. I was in charge of getting the coach’s reactions, and this coach liked to pace, literally, the length of the field. He was going from one end by his team all the way down to the other end of the field past the other team’s bench. So, I had to chase him around the sidelines with a camera. A few other GE interns came to watch and said I looked quite humorous. I’m sure.

It was a close one, but Round Towers came out on top, thank goodness! Now in September they will represent Dublin County and if they win that game, they will go on to play for the all-Ireland title. After the game, there was a lot of celebrating back at the clubhouse, and we were right there with the cameras to capture it all.

Editing has been going really well. I’ve got a first draft of three and a half out of the four five-minute clips put together. Nuno and Triona said they like what they are seeing so far, which is reassuring. Come this fall, they will be on the beActive Facebook page, as well as websites pertaining to the particular handicap the participant has, as kind of a teaser to the actually show which will be aired on Setanta. I can’t wait to see my hard work up and being watched by all these different people.

This weekend I spent my first night in a hostel. I had been looking forward to the experience all week, with maybe a little bit of apprehension caused by horror movies. It turned out to be a great experience. We couldn’t have picked a better location. We literally got off the train in Galway, and it was right there. The staff was friendly and helpful. The place was clean. It is just across the little town square from the main City Centre area, so we were right by all the action without being in extreme earshot of it at night. Four of us stayed in a room with two other girls and two other guys. The two girls were really nice. They were our age and from France. The two guys were older, Irish, and traveling separately. Both were very respectful of us and our privacy. We slept in bunk beds and there was one shared bathroom and kitchen/common room area, which made me feel like I was at camp. After checking in on Saturday, we grabbed lunch and set out for the beach. It was so nice being able to sink my toes in some sand and look for seashells, and the water was actually pretty warm by the shore.

We weren’t that hungry come dinner, so we decided to stop at a bakery that my flat mate had discovered on her trip to Galway last weekend. I split a red velvet whoopie pie with my friend, Heather. It was delicious!

Sunday was spent exploring the city. We started by setting off in search of the Galway Cathedral for mass. I have wanted to go to mass in a Cathedral all summer, but the ones in Dublin are a good walk from my apartment. It was huge. I couldn’t get over how majestic it looked from the inside. To think of how long ago it was built and is still being practiced in today, it’s crazy.

The Irish mass is interesting in that they sing a lot of hymns we sing at home, but I feel like the readings are always ones I’ve never heard before. They use incense a good amount in every mass, and communion is a mad dash to the alter where a front row of people kneel and wait for the priest to come by with the Eucharist and everyone else gathers in a somewhat organized fashion behind them until a spot frees up. Some prayers are said in Gaelic, which I enjoy listening to but am unable to partake in.

We arrived at the Cathedral about an hour early, so in the meantime we discovered a nearby playground and the beautiful campus of the National University of Ireland.

The rest of the day was spent sightseeing and souvenir shopping around City Centre (one more birthday present down).

It’s hard to believe that with this weekend now coming to a close, I have a mere two weeks left Ireland. I don’t understand how the time has flown by so quickly. It seems like just yesterday I was attempting to wheel a broken suitcase, courtesy of Delta, through the airport, and today I’m going to private screenings of future blockbusters in posh homes. Does this really have to end?

I've Got Good News, Bad News, and Good News...

As you may recall from my last post, Wednesday is the perfect day. I clarified that it may have been just that Wednesday, but this past Wednesday followed a similar pattern of perfection. My workday moved along in normal hump day fashion, but when I got home my stomach was filled with butterflies. I had an hour before I would sit down to my most important Skype of the summer (no offense Tessa). A few weeks earlier, I had received an email on the Penn State Comm Student Listserv about an internship opportunity for this fall. They were looking for twenty new interns to be trained in using the jumbotron camera for football and basketball games and/or be on the sidelines filming with a reporter followed by editing the clips into a highlight reel to be displayed on the Big Ten website. I can stay in the position on the payroll every semester following this fall until I graduate or leave the area. Talk about a dream of an opportunity. Needless to say, I was plenty worried on screwing up this interview. I don’t pride myself on being good at them. I know it may be hard to believe, but I’m not always this eloquent. When put on the spot to impress or sell myself, I go blank and I stutter and I say the first thing that comes to mind (which my sorority sisters know is generally not always the best thing to say). You also may have noticed that I am a rambler. So when I finally do get words out, they keep coming in this long train of uselessness that does not pertain at all to the question I was asked. All that aside, the interview actually went really well, and I must have said something right because I got the internship. I am beyond excited! This is what I have wanted to do ever since my first football game. Last football season, I got the opportunity to report on a game for PSN-TV’s sports news. This allowed me to be down on the sidelines filming, and I knew that is where I was meant to be watching these games, on the field through a camera lens.

As if that weren’t enough to be excited about, Thursday night was the premiere of the final installment in the Harry Potter movies. This was the moment I had been both waiting for and dreading ever since I was in first grade. It was drizzling and dark, which set the tone nicely. However, when I arrived at the theatre, Dublin actually let me down. I guess the honeymoon couldn’t last forever, but that still does not lessen the pain of finding a flaw in my beloved city that could not be overlooked. There was no line. There was only a smattering of viewers waiting to be let into the theatre. Granted, you picked your assigned seat when you preordered your ticket online and we had picked one of Dublin’s smaller theatres (the only one we could find that let you preorder tickets online), but still, on the night of the final premiere I expect a line-up of people dying with anticipation at half eleven at least! When the doors to the cinema opened, we filed in to our seats, and I looked around only to see about a total of three people half-heartedly dressed up. To be fair, I wasn’t dressed up either, but I could only fit so much into my suitcase and a Harry Potter costume didn’t make the cut. But people with their whole closets here with them should have been going all out for this final premiere. I know from pictures that the U.S. did not disappoint. It makes me proud to be an American.

The movie was fantastic. Not as good as the book, obviously, but still quite spectacular. I was very pleased with how they did things. My only criticism would be that I wish they showed more of the Snape/Lily at Hogwarts story and made a bigger deal about Fred’s death. However, even though I found it understated, I couldn’t help but tear up when I saw all the Weasley’s gathered around their dead redheaded kin, as well as when I saw Lupin and Tonks lying next to each other, so close yet so far. The tears came again when Harry passed Ron and Hermione on his way out to the Forbidden Forest. When he looked back at Ron, I lost if for a moment. Ron just lost his brother, and now he believes he’s about to lose his best friend, another brother. Can you imagine how he must have been feeling? Obviously I could, as shown by the tears in my eyes. The ’19 years later’ part was cute and a bit cheesy, but I would have been disappointed if it wasn’t there, corny or not.

I left the theatre satisfied, but sad. I had an overwhelming feeling of loss. With Toy Story 3, this final installment of Harry Potter, and turning twenty, my childhood is officially over. Everything I’ve grown up on has seen it’s end, and though I’m far from finished growing up, it is now time for me to grow up in a different way. My life isn’t about getting my problem set done on time for class tomorrow, practicing my Irish dancing, or saving up money for Beanie Babies. It’s about living on my own, building a career, and saving up money for future bills.

But all this has nothing to do with Europe, so I will get on with it. (See what I mean about rambling?)

Friday was a fantastic day at work, easily the best day of my summer. I was handed over a project to edit. Yes I Can is a documentary that Campbell Ryan is about to finish up producing. It will air this fall on Setanta Sports, slightly similar to ESPN, but airs reality shows or documentaries that are related to sports, like Yes I Can, besides just athletic games or sports talk shows. I am in charge of editing four five-minute behind-the-scenes clips for each show in the docu-seriers, and one twenty-two minute behind-the-scenes segment for the whole show. I’ve got one five-minute one done and about halfway done with another, and I am loving it. The documentaries are about people with physical handicaps taking on a challenge to complete an extreme sport of their choice. Editing the behind-the-scenes makes me wish I was here earlier to help in the filming. The shoots look like they were loads of fun to work on. Especially Simon’s, the one I finished editing. He has muscular dystrophy and his challenge was to play air soft. It reminded me of paintball at the Ranch so much (and getting chased around and shot at with air soft guns, got to love the nights of Day Camp week).

Saturday was a day out with three of my four my roomies. One of my flatmates, Amanda, goes to Penn State as well, and we were bumming a bit about missing Artsfest, so we decided to cheer ourselves up by taking Dublin by storm. We started at this place called ‘Treat Your Feet’ where you stick your feet in this fish tank and tons of little toothless fish nibble all the dead skin off your feet and ankles. It was wild! It tickles like crazy at first. I had about enough after 30 seconds, and still had 14-and-a-half minutes left in my session. It was so different and weird. I couldn’t look down because it made me queasy to watch them. It looked like leeches were attacking my feet. After about a few minutes I could control my shrills and laughter. After a few more I calmed myself down completely and was able to watch them. Once you get used to it, it feels fantastic. I loved it and would do it again in a heartbeat. It left my feet feeling so soft, and they gave me peppermint lotion to rub on them after I dried them off which made them feel very refreshed and tingly. Amanda and I decided we are opening up a shop like that in State College, so that all of Penn State can experience the sensation of having their feet wiped clean of dead skin. They told us they were in the process of opening full-body tanks. All the more reason to come back to Dublin!

We continued our roomie day with some shopping. It was incredibly difficult, especially since we only went in stores that were having sales. But I controlled myself to only a few essentials that can be mixed and matched with multiple outfits.

That night, Amanda and I went out, in our new clothes, to celebrate another intern’s birthday. We went to this place called Dandelions that was a large bar on the first floor and a dance club downstairs. After awhile, we took a break from dancing and sat upstairs at one of the little tables where some guys approached us. They were Americans (strike 1) in the Navy currently based in Spain where they played on a Spanish international baseball team. They were in Dublin for a game. We soon discovered one went to Ohio State, one went to Iowa, and one went to Notre Dame (strike 2, 3, and 4). That was enough to send us running back down to the dance floor.

Sunday, I woke up early for a trip to the Cliffs of Moher with all the Global Experience interns. The Cliffs were absolutely beautiful, but incredibly windy. They had to close off the footpath along the Cliffs and put up a wall on the areas that were still open because people kept being blown off the edge to a watery grave.

When we made it to the top by a look out tower, there was this massive wind tunnel. I watched interns as they tried to walk forward only to get pushed backward or knocked off there feet completely. Naturally, I had to join in. I rush over to the area where the wind is at it’s most powerful, only to realize a few moments later that my across-the-body purse had been left unzipped after I took my camera out. I frantically felt around inside, but all that was left was a 10 cent euro coin. My umbrella, little hairbrush, seven euros in change, passport, debit card, credit card, and Cliffs of Moher ticket all went flying. The first thing I saw was my umbrella, and I snatched it up. Then, realization set it in. My bag, which contained all those things just listed, was empty. I spun around desperately scanning the ground, but my hair was being blown all over the place in the wind. Once I finally got a handle on it, I spotted my friend, Heather, holding my little hairbrush.

“My passport!” I called to her and her eyes went wide. My heart soared when I saw a man just past her rifling through the pages of a passport looking for a name. I ran over to him and collected my passport and credit card. That still left my debit card, change, and ticket. The ticket was obviously long gone, but at that point it was nothing more than a souvenir so I wasn’t too upset about it. The change would be difficult, if not impossible, to find and, though sad to lose, not worth the effort when my debit card was still missing. I enlisted a few others, and we searched high and low, but it’s a bright orange card, so if we didn’t see it right away I knew it was already over the Cliffs. It put a major damper on the day, but better that than my passport.

After the Cliffs, we road on to Burren in Connamara with some of the craziest wind-swept hair you have ever seen. Burren was beautiful. It was covered with rocks and boulders left behind by glaciers. We stood on sheets of rock that was once a seabed. We stopped along the coastline where we got to see more cliffs, though much smaller (I made sure my purse was zipped tight before getting off the bus again).

On the way back to Dublin, we stopped at what was once an abbey, and I found what could be a deceased relative. It’s possible he could’ve traveled from Cork to live in Galway, right?

Monday, I finally met my boss(es). I can’t remember if I already explained this, but the woman I interviewed with, Triona, is the head of Campbell Ryan Entertainment. She married Nuno, the head of beActive Media in Portugal and Brazil, and the two of them combined their companies. So, both are my bosses I guess, and I technically work for beActive International (and I recently learned there is talk about opening an office in L.A. or New York, hello future job?).

They were out in Howth meeting with the editor of the Yes I Can series in the morning, but showed up in the office come afternoon. I loved them as soon as they walked through the door. They were so friendly, warm, and laidback. They create such a great work environment. And I thought I didn’t want to leave before!

Today I was a part of my first business meeting ever. Nuno was going over a new strategy for all the online aspects of their TV and film productions. He read through a list of brainstormed ideas of things to go on the websites for the different series that Catherine and I had come up with. Nuno and Triona both liked my ideas and plan to use them. I felt so proud to have been able to a) offer input and b) have it well received.

If you made it this far in one sitting, I am impressed. I’m coming to the end of the fourth page on Word. I don’t understand how the pages fill up so fast, but now I know how my Dad feels writing the Christmas newsletter.

The Perfect Day

Let me describe for you the perfect day. It’s a Wednesday. Maybe not every Wednesday, but last Wednesday for sure. It began at half nine rather than half eight. I took the Dart at half eleven out to Howth (you know, the coastal town I’m moving to later in life). I was picked up by Eammon, editor of the last documentary Campbell Ryan worked on. He took me to his house, in Howth, where I interviewed him and shot some actuality footage of him editing for a behind-the-scenes segment. He showed me the editing suite he has in the front hall of his house. He works on a giant Mac with a 72” flat screen TV connected to it, so he can watch what he is editing on the TV while he is working on it. As if that set-up weren’t enough, the room contains one giant picture window that overlooks the coast. If I could wake up every morning, go downstairs, make myself a cup of my roommate’s Columbian coffee, and go down the hall to work in room like that, I would be one happy camper. Once we were finished Eammon took me back to the Dart station, and I arrived back in Dublin by half one with the whole day still ahead of me. That night, I got on a bus at five and road out to the pitch where the women’s Gaelic football team was playing their semi-final match. I filmed more behind-the-scenes action while Mairtín and his crew gathered establishing shots and pregame talks. During the match, I filmed some of the crowd and crew, but mostly just enjoyed my first Gaelic football game. It’s an interesting sport that is played with a volleyball-like ball. You can run up to three steps before you have to bump it off to another player, bounce it off the ground, or drop it and kick it back up to you with your foot. You can shoot it in a soccer goal for three points or kick it over football field goal posts for one point. Round Towers, the team we were filming, were underdogs with their best goalkeeper out on an injury, and the score was going back and forth. In the end, Round Towers came out on top and are headed to the finals next Wednesday.

A whole day out of the office, just filming, that is the perfect day.

Let me describe to you the perfect day. It’s a Saturday. Maybe not every Saturday but last Saturday for sure. Another Heather and I took the Dart out to Sandycove where we found a coastline that rivaled my love for Howth.

It had sand, and giant rocks to climb on, and a swimming area (with freezing water). We explored a bit and even found a little castle. And the weather! It was summer for real. I was wishing for a tank top and had I brought my bathing suit with me from the apartment, I would have been swimming (for about five minutes, that was about as long as I could keep my feet in at one time). For lunch, we stopped at a cute little bagel café before wandering the streets of Dun Laoghrie and coming home.

A whole day on a sunny coastline, that is the perfect day.

Let me describe to you the perfect day. It’s a Sunday. Maybe not every Sunday, but last Sunday for sure. It started bright and early for another Extreme Ireland tour. Unfortunately, we were without Bud again, but we did get his friend, Joey, who he had said was second next to him. Joey was hysterical and taught us a bunch of Irish songs (one of which I will most definitely be bringing back to camp). Six of us took our chances with the Protestant Irish and ventured north because we could not ignore the beauty of Giant’s Causeway. We made our venture, on a giant tour bus rather than a van to accommodate all the people, to the land of the sterling on another beautiful day, this time I did where a tank top. We started at the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. We crossed the rickety, bouncing rope bridge to get out to this grassy island with rocky cliffs that I dared myself to get closer and closer to.

From there we went on the Giant’s Causeway, a beautiful natural phenomenon where rocks were formed in straight columns.

Next stop was Belfast, but on the way we saw the castle that inspired C.S. Lewis’ Cair Paravel.

Belfast, interestingly enough, was where the Titanic was built. Unfortunately, being Sunday, it was closed. But we did find a monument for it in City Centre.

A day exploring the beauty of Northern Ireland, completely safe, that is the perfect day.

God Bless America

I’ve reached to point of dangerous spiraling. The weeks keep moving faster and faster. August 6^th is breathing down my neck, and, try as I might, I can’t seem to put any distance between that date and I. With my time here already halfway over, it only makes me want to pack even more experiences into every moment I have left.

Generally, these experiences strictly exclude North American contact. I’m not trying to be unpatriotic or a snob, I just have been around Americans my whole life and will be around plenty more come Fall, so this summer has been about meeting people from all over the world, or really just anywhere except the U.S. (minus my GE friends). However, this past week I made a few exceptions. One of the interns met some Americans on the bus and got a little nostalgic when she found out one was from her home state of Texas. They were three soldiers in the army, currently stationed in Germany, and it was their first night of five in Dublin. They asked her for pub recommendations and she agreed to meet them later for a drink. Not wanting to go alone, she enlisted a few of us to join her. Seeing as it was a Monday night, and my plan otherwise had been to stay in and chill with my American roommates, I decided a little U.S. exposure wouldn’t kill me. Turns out they had been traveling around Europe the past few weeks and Dublin was their last stop before heading back to the base. They had a lot of interesting stories and provided us with a photo tour of European highlights they saw on their trip. At the end of the night, plans were made to meet up again Thursday. I was a little hesitant about this, but with the week leading up to the 4^th of July, what better time to hang out with Americans? We introduced them to Howl at the Moon, and discussed plans for our nation’s birthday. Unfortunately, they’d be gone by then. So at the end of the night, we bid our soldiers goodbye and thanked them for fighting. Friday, my friend and I were back on track talking to Irishman and got proposed to by two Obama-enthused Dubliners looking for a green card and all the possibilities America has to offer. They had the best teeth in all of Europe and promised many goats and cattle. It was difficult to turn down.

Saturday, I met up with Catherine, and we drove down to Gorey in County Wexford to film interviews and actuality shots for a new documentary. It’s about two men, Ian from Gorey and Lee from Denver, Colorado, cycling 17,000 miles from the top of Alaska to the southern tip of Argentina in 350 days. It is 350 because, according to scientists, 350 parts per million of CO2 in the atmosphere is the safe limit for humanity. We are currently at 391 ppm. Along the way they plan to meet the Irish diaspora of the Americas and hope to raise €100,000 for the Carers Association (you can check them out on Facebook and Twitter). We arrived at a cute house with a beautiful garden on a little country lane off the main drag to find the director and cameraman unloading equipment and the soundman pulling in behind us. We got some footage of Ian working on his bike, riding his bike, and packing for the trip, as well as interviews with himself, his girlfriend, and his parents. They are all very lovely people, so friendly and relaxed. His mother was always checking to make sure we had enough to eat and drink, offering us tea and scones as soon as we walked through the door. She made the most delicious Sheppard’s pie and potatoes for lunch. She gave me a giant list of places I need to visit in Ireland, and told me all about sites I had to see that most people miss (if only I’d had a pen and paper at the time, because it’s difficult to remember them all now). Around 9:30, we went into town and filmed his going away party at French’s pub. It was so sweet to see all his friends so excited for him. There was lots of singing, guitar playing, and well wishing. They presented him with a jersey to wear while he’s biking with his name and the 350 South logo. We wrapped up our filming so he could enjoy his time with his friends and family.

My Saturday was originally supposed to be spent on a trip to Kilkenney and Glendalough with Global Experiences. Instead, I had to work, which I thought was unfortunate at first. I was a little disappointed to be missing out on experiencing more of Ireland, but on my way back to Dublin, I realized I did experience more of Ireland. It was my first whole day as the only foreigner around. I got to spend time with an Irish family, learning the norms of their life and customs. Kilkenney and Glendalough will be there for me to visit in the future, but this kind of opportunity, exposure to an Irish family and their preparations to part from their son, friend, and boyfriend for a year, and helping in the process of capturing it all on camera, that’s something I could only get to do on that Saturday in that town.

My weekend also included trips to the two most popular attractions in Dublin, the Jameson Distillery and the Guinness Storehouse. At Jameson, two of our group splurged and got the “Jameson Tasting Experience” while waiting for our tour where they got to try the Jameson one would buy now, a 12-year-old Jameson Reserve that you can only get at the Jameson factory in Dublin, a Jameson Gold Reserve, and an 18-year-old Jameson. At the time (note the tense in that phrase) I didn’t pride myself on being a whiskey connoisseur and didn’t think I’d be able to tell the difference, so I didn’t buy my own tasting. One of them let me sample his 18-year-old Jameson, though. It was apparently supposed to have a fudgy and vanilla taste. I’m not sure if I agree with that, but it was certainly smooth and minty. Once they finished, it was time for our tour, so we gathered at the door and were ushered into a small theatre. After getting a brief history on John Jameson, the guide asked for volunteers to participate at the end of the tour, and I was lucky enough to be chosen.

We went through the tour, learning how it is made and what makes it so much better than all other whiskeys. At the end, us volunteers were sat at a table and were given a taste of American whiskey (Jack Daniels, distilled once), Scottish whiskey (Johnnie Walker Black Label, distilled twice), and Irish whiskey (Jameson, distilled three times). The guide had us sip the Irish first, and then try the Scottish and American in turn with the Irish. Ireland is leaps and bounds ahead in whiskey making. Johnnie Walker tasted like smoky bark and Jack Daniels tasted like a straight up ashtray. And boy did they burn! The whole experience has turned me into a whiskey snob. When I turn 21, I am not wasting my money on Jack and Cokes, it’s all about the Jameson and Ginger.

At the Guinness Storehouse, the tour was self-guided. We made our way through the six floors leading up the Gravity Bar. I learned about how it is made, the history of its creation and creator, and its advertisement over the years. I got to hone my bartending skills and poured my own pint.

Naturally, I poured a perfect pint (as my certificate states). One more thing I can add to my résumé. After all the hype about how heavy Guinness is, I thought it would be much more harder to drink. But the Irish are good at making things that go down smooth (maybe that’s why they drink so much), although I could’ve used a piece of chocolate or something sweet when I was finished. We made our way up to the Gravity Bar where we got a 360° view of Dublin. It was beautiful, and we picked a great day for it. You could see for miles.

Monday was spent out on a shoot for The Club documentary where … (wait for it) … I got to use a camera! They interviewed another one of the main girls they are focusing on and filmed the teams training, and I got to film and interview the crew for behind-the-scenes footage. It felt so good to get my hands on a camera again, playing with angles and shot sizes. On Wednesday, I get to go back out to Howth to interview the editor for more behind-the-scenes. He works out of an editing lab in his house. I’m so excited to see it, and maybe get some ideas for my future home (though The Holiday already had a pretty nice layout for me to model mine after).

I finished up around 9:30 and went to meet up with the other GE interns already in full celebratory swing for the 4^th of July at Captain America’s. I made a quick check at the front desk to see if mail had come in for me before heading out. Sure enough, I had a letter with two American flags enclosed (thanks Mom, perfect timing!). I waved them proudly and joined my fellow Americans in belting out every patriotic song we could think of. While normally on this trip I would choose people from Europe over people from the U.S., however on July 4^th there is no group of people I would rather spend my time with than a bunch of obnoxious Americans.

An Irish Birthday

I am writing this, not as a teenager, but as a sophisticated twenty-year-old. This past Saturday I opened a new chapter of my life. I said goodbye to my teens, my adolescence, and ran with much excitement into my twenties. I feel like just yesterday I was so excited to turn thirteen and say I was a teenager, and now I’m even more excited to turn twenty and say I’m not.

June 25^th, 2011 began just like the Saturday before, at five in the morning. Interesting how the days I work are my sleep in days, but with so much to see, there is no time to curl up under the covers late into the morning. Eight of us gathered downstairs and made our way over to the Grafton Street area to catch a van to Connamara. This time, others joined us from the U.S. and Italy. We requested Bud, but unfortunately he wasn’t able to take us for whatever reason, so instead we had Joe. He was nice, but he was no Bud. We learned that Connamara was once a bog where the English monarchy forced all the Irish Catholics. What a great place to spend my birthday, right? Though the land wasn’t great for farming, it was still beautiful. Originally, the soil of Connamara was really rocky. In an effort to farm, the Irish removed thousands of rocks, but then had nowhere to put them, so they built stonewalls around their fields. They had no cement, so they had to place the rocks in a way that they would fit together on their own. They did a great job, because they are still standing today, good as new.

We saw the bridge they used in filming the John Wayne classic, The Quiet Man. Then, Joe took us to my future home, the Kylemore Abbey. Wealthy, English politician Mitchell Henry originally built it for his wife. It took 100 men four years to finish. Four years after it was completed, Henry’s wife dies. He then had a gothic church built on the grounds in her honor, which took another four years to complete.

After seeing the Abbey, we stopped in the gift shop where I got some chocolate, handmade by Benedictine nuns, and a Claddagh ring. I love my ring so much. I have wanted one for the longest time, but held off on getting one until I could get it in Ireland (I always had faith I’d end up here one day!). From the Abbey we drove to a boat and took a ride down Ireland’s only fjord. I enjoyed some seafood chowder and brown bread while admiring the green and rocky scenery around me.

Before heading back to Dublin, we stopped for an hour in Galway. We explored a street market where I picked up a Christmas present (who’s the lucky one today?) and spotted many attractive Irishman. It’s a beautiful city, and I’m definitely excited to spend a whole weekend there later this summer.

I came back to find some birthday treats from my flatmate, a delicious chocolate and caramel square and a delicious chocolate rice krispee. I really feel so lucky. I love the people I live with. We get along great, and one even goes to Penn State! I enjoyed my desserts as I got ready for a night out with all of my flatmates and other friends. We all gathered at an apartment the floor above before heading out, and they surprised me with cupcakes, a birthday sash, and a card they had all signed. I never would have expected these new friends to do so much for me. I felt so special, and the night was still young. We started at this place called Howl at the Moon. It was four stories tall with all sorts of fancy fixtures, chandeliers and the like. It was beautiful! After discovering there was no set dance floor, we decided to start our own in a room off to the side. It wasn’t long before many others joined in, and we were dancing to everything from Pitbull to Destiny’s Child. It’s always American music, unless you’re at a pub and a group of friends is strumming away in the corner.

After Howl at the Moon, half of the group decided to head back to the apartments, while the rest of us decided to move on to a place called Dandelion. Their dance floor was in full swing and we jumped right in. It was here that I met my new friends from Holland (keep them in mind). After lots of dancing and birthday hugs, we decided to call it a night. On the way home, rather than pass an assortment of places selling late night pizza like you would find in State College, there are late night kebab restaurants and falafel stands. Some people stop to get falafels and one of my friends treats me to some chips (that’s Irish for delicious french fries). While they wait in line, many people admire my sash. The common consensus while I’ve been here is that I’m 23 or 24. While I’m okay with that now, I feel like that is going to come back to haunt me later in life.

I finally made it into bed as the sun was coming up. Before you get too shocked, I have to tell you that Ireland is what I imagine Alaska to be like. It is never ending daylight, unless it is raining. It stays light out well into the night, so it could be ten o’clock and if you weren’t looking at your watch you would think it was six. And then it gets light out incredibly early, well before anyone would ever need light in the morning. So, in reality, the Irish live with like three hours of darkness (unless it’s raining).

My late night did not stop my body from waking me up early the next morning. Sunday was a beautiful day, and I was ready to get out and enjoy Dublin. After piddling around for what seemed like ages waiting for everyone else to catch up with my internal clock, a group of us finally set out for a flea market that is held the last Sunday of every month in New Market Square. We made a few laps around St. Patrick’s Cathedral before getting some useful directions and finding it tucked away in one of the oldest parts of Dublin. I picked out about six different teacup sets for my future apartment and a pretty dresser. Unfortunately, I had no feasible way of getting these back to America, so they stayed behind at the flea market; treasures for someone else to find. From there three of us made the misleadingly long walk to Phoenix Park, passing Dublin’s oldest pub, The Brazen Head.

After finally making it to this giant park, home to the Dublin Zoo, the president of Ireland, and many reindeer, we collapsed under a tree and took a short nap. Once we recuperated, we did a little exploring, which led us to an ice cream truck. After walking over 5 miles, we felt we deserved a little reward. Apparently Ireland only has vanilla ice cream, a bit of a disappointment, but it still hit the spot on such a hot day. We made our way to a giant monument (I still don’t know what it is) with ice cream in hand, when who should coming running toward us but one of my new Dutch friends! I look over and the whole group of them are relaxing on the lawn in front of said monument. What are the odds in a city the size of Dublin and in a park the size of Phoenix Park? I learned they have traveled to Ireland with a professor and are visiting all the different museums. We relax by the monument as well for a bit and take in our surroundings on this spectacularly sunny day before heading home. This time, we take the bus.

Beat It Journey

I walked to work Monday wearing a nice shirt with the short sleeves, gray jeans, my cute little black ankle boots, and my purple OPhiA zip up. I have misplaced my umbrella (later to be found in another friend’s apartment) but I figured, the walk isn’t long, and I have a hood so should it start to rain on my walk home, I could make it back without too much trouble. Besides, it was a beautiful sunny day with a comfortable temperature to match. After arriving at work, my coworker, Lead Researcher, Catherine, asks if I would like to go out on the shoot today. Do I want to leave the office to go be around the Director and a camera? That’s not even a question. The day goes by, still lovely outside until about an hour before we go to leave. The sky grows dark and it starts to drizzle. It rains off and on our whole drive over to the pitch. Once we get there, however, it just stays on. This was real Forrest Gump rain. There was light stinging rain. There was big old fat rain. There was rain that came in sideways. The only thing missing was rain that came up from underneath. And it was cold. Really cold. The coldest it has been since I arrived. There I was, short-sleeved shirt, gray jeans, black ankle boots, American Apparel zip-up. Not a single thing I was wearing was waterproof, or, as I discovered that night, warm. Luckily, the Irish are experienced in the ways of their weather and had an extra umbrella for me to use and a blanket for me to wrap up in. I sloshed around the field, clinging my blanket tightly around my shoulders, and chasing after the cameraman to keep him covered in an umbrella while he shot b-roll of the football training.

I suppose now you would expect me to go into a rant of how miserable I was, but I am sorry to disappoint. On the contrary, I could not have been happier. I was around a camera again. I was getting a breakdown from the Director of Photography on what he was doing and why he was doing it. Wet or dry, warm or cold, I knew I was at home, and it was impossible to not have craic.

Of course the next two days I wore my wellies and it doesn’t rain at all. Not even a quick drizzle to break up all the sunshine. Fortunately, they matched my outfit, and Catherine thought they were cute.

On Wednesday, a group of us head out in search of karaoke. Another girl has an internship at this company called Tower Records. One of their clients is the bar and restaurant called Captain America’s, after the comic, and they have karaoke on Wednesday nights. We found our karaoke night, but, unfortunately, we also found a large gathering of younger teenage Americans. After one too many Hannah Montana and Justin Beiber songs, two other girls and I decide to go up and show them how it is done. We go up to the computer and ask the guy how to pick a song. He asks what we are looking for. We tell him Journey. He asks who sings it (well that sounds promising). We tell him Journey. He instructs us to just type Journey into the top text box and nothing comes up, as to be expected after his response. We try again with LFO. No luck. We decide to just scroll through the list of songs instead of searching for one and come across Beat It by Michael Jackson. Sold. We are belting it out like the professional singers we are when suddenly instead of lyrics on the screen it says ’20 Beat Instrumental Break’. We would pick a song with an instrumental break. And let me tell you, 20 beats is a long time. We bust out our best Beat It dance moves, which coincidentally is as good as our singing. After what seemed like a ten-minute dance showcase, lyrics finally came back on and we finished on a high note, figuratively.

Thursday was a night of trivia at Lotts bar and restaurant. It is located across the River Liffey, which is about a half hour walk from my flat, but right next to where my roommate, Natalia, works. Rather than have her make the trek all the way back to the flat after work only to turn around and march right back out there a little later, my flatmate, Kajsia, and I decided to walk out to meet her to keep her company until trivia at 8. I admit, I did have ulterior motives. Natalia works in an area with a lot of shopping and discovered this store Penneys. It’s like a department store and everything is very inexpensive. I had been longing for an excuse to get out there and poke around. As soon as I entered I realized this might have been a mistake. The store was full of things too cute and cheap for my own good. I could easily do some serious damage in that store, but I had to keep my fully loaded and overweight suitcase in mind. I made it out with two pairs of shoes, a pair of sandals, and a black across-the-body bag I’d been searching for (be jealous Kathy) for only 26 euro! That’s less than what I spend on groceries! I was so pleased with myself that I resisted the urge to step into H&M or Forever 21, which were right next door. I have since made a pact with myself that I will no longer be making extraneous expenditures on myself (besides bus, train, or plane tickets) and will only be doing Christmas shopping for the rest of the trip. Let’s hope this lasts longer than New Year’s Resolutions do.

On our way to meet Natalia, we walked down the bustling Grafton Street, around Trinity College where we saw someone had filled a fountain with soap bubbles, through the cobblestone streets of Temple Bar, and over the Half Penny Bridge, though you’ll always hear it shortened to Ha Penny (pronounced like ‘Hey’).

It’s called the Half Penny Bridge because for the longest time that was the only way to get across the River Liffey in Dublin, and you would have to pay a toll of half a penny to cross. It was common for people to meet their friends at the Ha Penny Bridge back in the day, and that is just the place where we met up with Natalia (without having to pay a toll).

After shopping, we met up with some friends for trivia at Lotts. This trivia was nothing like the trivia I know and love at Roc-n-Doc’s. I can answer questions at Roc-n-Doc’s. I did not know anything they asked at Lotts. Some examples are, “What country did giant ashen clouds come from that stopped flights to Australia this week?” or “Recently, the record was set for the number of twins and triplets born in a year in (a town a can’t remember). What was the number?” or “What is the closest blue flag beach to the Dublin airport?” (Chile, 252, and Malahide if you were wondering). Whatever happened to ‘what is the largest animal in the world?’ or ‘what is the largest organ in the human body’ or even ‘what are the first three books of the bible?’ Ireland is a Catholic country after all. We did get, ‘what is wet on the inside, hairy on the outside, and has the letters u, n, and t in it?’. It was a coconut.

Today, Friday, there was nothing to do at work. When I arrived Catherine said Triona was looking over the treatments we made up for the upcoming documentaries. Since we wouldn’t have anything to do really until Monday, she said I could take a half-day for my birthday weekend. I love Catherine! In the meantime, we played with this HD camera that turned on when you flipped the screen out and had incredible picture quality. When the editor came in to transfer files to Final Cut, we chatted about his life as a freelance editor. He recently spent a year in Canada and said it was a truly life-altering experience, admitting he has officially been bitten by the travel bug (sounds familiar). He plans to spend the next year in New York. Talking to him got me thinking about my plans after graduation. Traveling from country to country freelance editing sounded like a great way to get a start, and what better time to do it than while I’m young?

Catherine came back from her lunch break with a delicious chocolate delight for me that looked like a muffin because it had a white drizzling as opposed to icing on the top, but tasted like a cupcake. Have I mentioned I love Catherine? I would post a picture for you to decide what it is, but I’ve already devoured most of it beyond recognition.

This weekend, a group of us are setting off for the western mountains of Connamara. I can’t wait for more incredible pictures to show you. Oh yeah, and to be 20!