So glad to see we've all resurfaced and that all is going well for Megan, Sarah and Dee. I can't wait to hear about this first expedition in adulthood with an Undergrad under our belts. (I include you Sarah as a confidence in how swimmingly it'll go for you!)
I'm still kicking it over here in London with Jam, teaching the tiny people. Come January I'll be here a year! Does that count as 'having lived in London?' legitimately then? Like a true resident I haven't taken advantage of many of the great things the city has to offer. I use my weekends to sleep in and experiment with cooking brunch using what's left in the fridge from the week(very often beans on toast.) If I were one for resolutions, ticking off some must sees would definitely be number one.
We have undertaken challenging construction projects...
There have been plenty stumbled upon gems however, like this old school French bakery.
It's been a busy term in school finishing up my NQT year and getting into a routine that works for 30 small people and 3 adults who need to spend 6 hours a day together as harmoniously as possible. I hope not to have to eat my words when I say it's been ok so far...cue some blurred classroom pics.
Just understand maths already small folk!
My room was decorated in the summer and feels so...bare.
I've put up and decorated my first fake Christmas tree. The lack of wilting in the branches has been my greatest peeve about the transition (I do accept that I should have anticipated this.) Winter geansais have been pulled out of the wardrobe and have made a very welcome return to my days and nights. I'll be home Christmas Eve for a few days and fingers crossed that schedules can be aligned so I get to see you all buds!
This years addition to my ever growing jumper collection.
This album blows my mind btw. It's currently on repeat.
Hello? Anyone there? Look! A resurgence in blogging! Megan reminded me that this still existed and here I am waving a big hello, because once again, due to the chaos of general day-to-day life, I've fallen out of step with Megan, Ciara and Dee... as well as many other nearest and dearest.
I'm in Limerick. It's Week 9 of the first semester. I've not failed anything yet! I'm living with some great friends. There are some great friends still hanging around Limerick, although there are more who have left and are off doing their own things. I've come back from a relatively successful year out and am already looking at where to go next. I'm thinking either Canada, America, Spain, Japan or South Korea. You know... away, away. It's actually a point of stress. There are two great programmes in Japan and S. Korea respectively but they both begin next August. Considering that I need to work away for the summer (either America or the UK), I would be expected to leave just after returning from summer employment. This doesn't suit because I am determined to attend my graduation, particularly considering that this course has just bled me dry of confidence over the past four/five-ish years, so attending it will be a happy "F- you course", attended by my super family of course. Secondly, my family and I missed out on Glastonbury tickets this year (very upsetting), but have decided that the Murphy's will take on the joys of Bestival next year instead! Watch out Isle of Wight! All of us are going, but because it's on during the first weekend of September, I'm not about to leave for Asia. More on that later.
Here's some pictures of things that have happened recently. I'm going to get back to blogging more. My attempts at journal-keeping haven't been as successful as I'd anticipated.
I feel really very lucky to have been able to visit and live in (albeit briefly) a small handful of exciting places in my years to date. I've travelled to at least as many cities as my age, seen more sights than I can remember offhand and experienced uncontrollable laughing bouts with buddies, quiet strolls in some of the worlds most bustling cities and watched the world go by half a dozen time zones.
Today was my last day of lectures in my undergrad. I had an exam and an essay to submit, how memorable. These are some of my favourites on our last day..we're from far and wide so the effortlessness of seeing each other in college makes me forget that this will require effort from here on out. boo.
chicago deets
Childish Gambino plays on the 9th of May Bruce is playing in Dublin in July and Chicago in September. I go the end of May, I come back the end of August.This is my response:
Megan and I take our lives in our hands, swinging above Vienna City, March 2012.
So we've returned ... kind of! Ciara has shown signs of life as she heads into the final few weeks of her degree. That is indeed a terrifying thought but one I'm SURE you will take as it comes. No better woman to be fair. It takes a lot to get you pulsed. I can't believe you're nearly a teacher! It literally seems like yesterday when we were all at our school graduation, singing "Alright" by Supergrass. Some tune! Now where's Megan's post...?
This post is born out of love for the blog and all our friends who haven't a clue what we are up to. That's what it should be. Alas, it's really just a terribly poor concealment of my impressive procrastination. Dee and I have a thesis due on the 26th. I have just received my first piece of feedback from my supervisor which has basically told me to rethink the whole direction of the project. Just dandy. So did I sit down, really scratch my head and use all my brainpower to come up with a new plan? Not at all. I made dinner, watched Jonathan Ross (which included a frightening picture of Simon Cowell as a teenager) and logged on here for the first update in jaysus, nearly 3 months.
Frightening, isn't it?
Have I made the right decision? Yes. Will this help me in graduating and getting my degree? Absolutely not.
Let's get to it so.
December:
I went home for one week in December. I hadn't originally planned to do this when I left Ireland in September but at that stage, the idea of spending Christmas alone in my room, turkey-less, was just too depressing. And I missed my mummy. Obviously. In order to travel the 1,111 miles (exact) from Vienna to my home-town, I had to take an U-Bahn about 500 million stops (slight exaggeration), hop on a bus to Slovakia (you could go your life without visiting there, ehrlich gesagt) and get on a plane to Dublin. Easy, right?
Well, it was until I was going in through security and they stopped me. They opened my meticulously packed backpack and proceeded to dump some presents that I had bought for my mother right in front of me. Apparently things like jam and jars of olives count as "liquids". Psssssssssh. Scrooges.
A hop, skip and some air turbulence later, I landed in Dublin. The feeling I had flying in over Dublin Bay and Howth was just pure excitement. The fun part started when I landed. I landed at 7.20pm. The last train home to Cork was at 9. It took one hour for the bus to get through Dublin City Centre. I had to get to the train station at 8.45pm. Meaning, I needed to find the bus before 7.45pm. Thus I had about 20 minutes to disembark the plane, run through the labyrinth that is Terminal 2 and find the Airbus stop. Of course being 4 days before Christmas, it was jammers AND it would so happen to be my luck that a New Zealand Under 21's rugby team had just arrived and were going through security at the same time. I didn't even have time to appreciate their battered faces and mangled cauliflower ears. More's the pity.
I ran through the Arrivals gate, feeling quite melancholy and woebegone as I saw all the families eagerly awaiting loved ones with big banners. Mine obviously weren't there. To add to the bittersweet moment of arrival on Irish soil, there was a brass band playing beautiful Christmas carols to my left. Still, I dashed onwards as I frantically checked the time. 7: 32pm. I looked left. I looked right. And there it was. Right across the road, the luggage doors closing. There was no pedastrian crossing and a long barrier stood there, blocking a clear path to the bus door. Did that stop me? No siree.
I had a Forrest Gump moment and literally legged it across the road, dodging traffic and lunged over the barrier. I clambered onto the bus, paid my six euro and scurried upstairs to a find a seat and recuperate. Which I did. For the next 5 minutes. As the bus waited there.
Finally, we got underway and I found that I wasn't the only one returning home after a substantial period of time. There were two lads in front of me, exhausted from a full 30 hours of travelling. Based on the size of their backpacks and their plans to sit home and do nothing for the next 2 months except watch GAA and eat Taytos, I gathered that they had been in Asia. Driving through the inner city, Dame Street, O'Connell Street, Westmoreland Street, was just the best welcome home I could have asked for. All the Christmas lights were up and the view from a double decker bus is quite a different thing altogether from the view down below. There was a buzz which hadn't been present in Vienna. I arrived into Heuston Station at 8.40pm and even had time to indulge in the great Irish tradition of .... Supermac's. Oh yes. Now Supermac's isn't Maccy D's, nor is it Burger King. It's just Supermac's. If you want a good greasy burger and a curry cheese chip (or garlic cheese chip if you're from the country), look no further.
Yet, when I was queueing I noticed something unusual. I saw to my left a woman and her son and from the way that they were signing to each other, it was clear that they were deaf. Whenever I see someone with a clear disability such as deafness or blindness, I always have the utmost respect for them and try and place myself in their shoes for a few minutes. I always think about how much more complicated the simple task I may be doing and have taken for granted, is for that person and how it presents a unique variety of difficulties. So I was there, wondering how the lady was going to order her food in a very busy fast food restaurant. Maybe she would write it down. Maybe she could say it. I was furiously thinking how I would do it. And out of nowhere came a worker in Supermac's who saw the woman signing to her son, asking him his order, and then the employee began signing at her. For two minutes, I watched amazed. I had never seen anything like it. It was lovely to see and has made me determined to learn to sign in the future. What a skill to have and helps make other people's day that bit easier.
Finally on the train, I was sitting with three other girls my own age and we were all knackered. It was the final leg of the journey for most people. Half way down the country, near Portlaoise I think, I struck up a conversation with the girls who were sisters just back for Christmas from London. What caught my interest is that they were intermittently speaking Irish in amongst the flow of English. Speaking the odd cúpla focal here and there isn't weird but they were really able to speak it. I found out that they were Gaelgóirs, people whose first language is Irish, from Kerry. What followed was an hour long conversation about the state of affairs in Ireland and why everyone is leaving. One of the girls was about to leave everything behind and head to Australia. Her sister wasn't going to be long after her. Add to this, the actual train conductor sitting down for a chat and by 11:50pm that evening, he and I were the only two people left in my carriage. I nearly hopped off the train with glee but of course, no family were to be seen.
I knew I had about 5 minutes before they would be there so I ran to the bathroom and changed into a Santa outfit we had used in a bar a few weeks previously. Just as I left the bathroom, who did I see but my sister. Then my brothers. And then mummy herself. What was obviously planned as a amorous and poignant welcome home fell apart as they all burst out in laughter. I think it was the beard that did it. Hugs exchanged and a few jokey words, we all piled into the car and home. I literally remember hugging my Dad and the dogs and collapsing into bed. And it felt like I never left. Lady was curled up at my feet, Bart outside my door and everyone went to bed. The next day was the 22nd and I was leaving from Dublin on the 29th. One week to do everything I needed to. I made a mental list. That is a list in my head, not a list that was mental in it's content.
Help the family prepare for Christmas.
Buy a Christmas tree and decorate it.
Catch up with friends.
Catch up with family.
Exchange stories.
Plan St. Stephen's Night (26th December)
Wrap gifts.
Sleep.
Eat as much Irish food as I could.
Get in as many hugs as I could.
Easy peasy?! Except for number 3. The 22nd was spent doing #1 and #2. The 23rd was dedicated to #7, #4, #5, #1 and #6. I knew I would be pushing it trying to see everyone. The 24th, 25th and 26th are considered family days. The 28th was re-packing day. Which left the evening of the 23rd and the 27th. And I love so many people! This includes Megan, Ciara, Dee and oh, you guys know who you all are!
I hate attention. I hate getting presents. I go bright red. Which is exactly what happened but hey, after half an hour, I think I managed to restore normal-ish skin tone. Once I got over the initial shock, we all had a big natter. While only short conversations, I did manage to at least get an overview of how everyone was doing and what they were getting up to. Ciara only had an hour to spare but I was delighted to see you! I hope Eilis didn't mind driving up again! We had delicious Mexican food (as always) and headed to the grimy and beloved Bróg for a few pints which turned into more pints and then I ended up seeing even more people I hadn't in nearly years (perils of travelling for uni). While I didn't get to catch up properly with everyone, I appreciated it so much and went home with a huuuuuuuuuuuge smile. Dee brought me home. Thanks Dee. You are a trooper.
Christmas with the family was mighty craic. We did the usual. Watched old movies, Christmas variety shows from the 70's, helped with the desserts, scavenged to find the table cloth, wrapped our pressies, didn't go to Mass (we always seem to miss it), had a day of dancing to Wham! and Shakin' Stevens, ate what felt like a ton of turkey and ham and after dinner, had the gift giving ceremony which is my favourite part. Not because of what I receive but to see the looks on other's faces when they see what I've gotten them. My sister got treated to a load of Forever 21 bits and bobs (There's one in Ireland. I live 100m from one in Vienna). Lovely lovely lovely. Lubbly jubbly even. I'll never get over the sheer excitement of Santa Claus though. Who does really?
St. Stephen's Night came rolling around. Now every year it is a bloodbath trying to get in somewhere for St. Stephen's. People haven't been to a pub in about 2 days, after spending copious amounts of time in close quarters with their loved ones and thus, want need to go out with their friends. Every year since we turned 18, myself and my home ladies from our town have not gone to the city for fear that it would be totally jammers. Instead, we have always ventured to the one pub in town that caters for younger people. Last year, that turned out to be an absoluttttttte joke. I am talking about queueing in the rain for two hours and just giving up. So for 2011, we threw caution to the wind and hit C-town. And you know what? It turned out to be an absolute laugh! Well, until someone suggested that we have absinthe before we got out of the car. We all know who couldn't handle it, don't we?! Regardless, we battled on to the Bróg until about 11pm and proceeded to Rearden's. And aside from losing one or two people, we had a grand time! Not too packed at all! Good music! Ok-ish priced drinks. Grand job. The hangover the next morning probably wasn't contributory to my well-being the next morning as I had to go to Cork and bid farewell to a good friend who was jetting off to New Zealand. He was in as bad a state as I was so we literally spent 4 hours in a bar/restaurant, moving very slowly and catching up.
And that was it. The next morning I was on the 5am train back to Dublin, to go through the same rigmarole all over again. I finally collapsed onto my bed in my Vienna student accommodation at 8pm that night. I didn't linger over my thoughts of home because I was already missing it and with New Year's Eve only being a day away, I just battled on.
But I've written enough here to give even me a headache but woe, that is the depth of my procrastination and I was determined to bring you all up to speed. I'm knackered now though so I'll tackle the next 3 months during the week when I'll no doubt be staring at my thesis while pondering about sticking needles into my eyes... I jest... I think.
Over and out readers. Hope ye like the new look!
Here's the customary end of post songs. Today we have "Cough Syrup" by Young and the Giant, "Off the Wall" by Yuksek and "Midnight City" covered by The Knocks and Mandy Lee.
This is a long overdue post and if anyone even reads this anymore, hi and thanks for bearing with usduring that slightly longer than expected intermission we had over the months of July and August. I'm back from my gallivanting in South America and England and have been home about 2 uneventful weeks. It's been so odd being home and overwhelming trying to see all my friends in different parts of the country that I've gone a bit AWOL and haven't seen the light of day much.
Even though I haven't been home for so long and I've been dying just to be home, relaxing, I thought it'd take me some time to get used to it again and realise I am home. But it hasn't.
It's like I never left! I arrived home without any fanfares or trumpets. I got off the bus in my town and expected my family to be waiting. In typical Murph fashion, they were half an hour late! We went straight up to my old secondary school to collect my sister's Leaving Certificate results. I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate the little genius and wish her all the best as she starts her career as a Nurse!
Some of this duvet-day behaviour was down to getting Erasmus papers in order [nearly ready to go!], my Co-Op report done [handed in already] and my FYP research started [still *ahem* working on this one] but really, I've been a bit lazy. Sorry to all my friends reading. I swear, for the next 3 weeks I am here, I will do my utmost to cater to you, particularly those of ye who are fecking off to France a bit earlier than I am to Austria.
Though I did have a pretty good time out at the "Decades Festival" in Cork with Megan and Dee. We danced to "Mack the Knife". And certain people insulted a local Radio DJ. Scarla'.
Some of my hermit-like behaviour is down to missing the intense lifestyle I had in England for 5 weeks. The same thing happened last year too. In a job where you work with a tight 25-strong staff, 300 kids, 16 hours a day, 6 days a week, it's a little claustrophobic so when you do have the opportunity to be free in the open air of cities, away from the madness, you begin to miss it. I love teaching, I really do, so I miss my classes. I had some great kids this year. I taught kids from all over the gaff; from Turkey, Germany, Italy, Spain, Bulgaria, Romania, Ukraine, Russia to Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan [yes, this is a country. I did not know this either],China and Sweden. We'd some great classes like a whole class on the meaning of "Imagine" by John Lennon, Scavenger Hunts and a film review class on "Mean Girls" [forgot about all the swearing in that film. Probs a mistake, that one]. There was mighty craic during the activities like a water balloon fight, fancy dress [soy loca como un ... cheetah?], a British fete where the kids had the opportunity to throw wet sponges at me, an "Egg Drop", a bin bag Fashion Show, a World Cup Football Tournament, the many Talent Shows - one kid played a song on his teeth and I won a marshmallow-in-mouth competition [17, oh yes]. The discos were probably enjoyed by the staff more than the kids but the atmosphere was pretty fun and nothing made it more worthwhile than seeing the kids making friends with kids of other nationalities. The below picture illustrates how we needed to be aware of different cultural traditions and customs - this sign was for the benefit of a 30-strong group of mental Chinese kids, aged between 7 to 13.
They were adorable. One night, we heard a noise in the hall and went out to investigate to see that all the tiny little Chinese kids had gone and washed their school uniforms in the showers! The local pub was made home and I spent an extortionate amount of money there but in comparison to Ireland, twas' cheap as chips. There was cake fights and bush running and cat pushing and drinking games galore - necessary behaviour to ensure the craic factor was upheld. Being Irish was a benefit as the kids understood me quite well but some of the other staff members did do the usual "Irish banter" rigmarole. Thus I was dubbed "Potato" - by staff and kids alike - and this became my theme tune, played at every possible opportunity.
Catchy, right? Ireland's oh so wonderful run of losses in the pre- Rugby World Cup matches really helped too! Mind you, sweet revenge was had by inflicting upon some of them classic Irish slang such as "class" and "grand".
I got to see a lot of the country on free trips to London, Bristol, Stratford-Upon-Avon, Gloucester, Cheltenham and Cardiff. Oh and Stroud. That mecca for all things cultural. Other events included having spinny chair races, watching "Come Dine with Me" drunk, hiding in bushes, jumping over fences, making fun of our resident Justin Bieber look alike, having a Chinese take-away on a stage with lights and dub-step and making "Total Eclipse of the Heart" so much better by adding the word "f**king" at regular intervals. Craic illustrated through the below snaps.
Now, this isn't as exciting as Ciara's rogue adventures around California but I have neither the word space or energy to detail the end of my Argentina adventures. Ara, sure there'll be enough time for that. Except this weekend, as I am about to do a "Ciara" on it and feck off to a festival.
The lucky field is Stradbally in Co. Laois where my brother and I will spend the next 4 days volunteering at Electric Picnic '11 and seeing the acts when we can. Pulp are headlining too so after Ciara's recommendation, they have been upgraded from "If we can" to a "We must". Looks like it'll be a muddy one so full coverage from that and the end of Argentina adventures stories upon my return. I will leave you with the above pictures of Inglaterra to brood upon and some songs of the acts I'm most excited to see at EP 2011.
