Good news and bad news...

Well, you guys will all be happy to hear that I actually did something last night. I was sitting in my room with the south african, and I could tell he was getting ready to go out. So I tried to look as pitiful as I possibly can so that maybe he'll invite me out because I'm so desperately bored... WELL IT WORKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He was like "Hey, we're going to the Q bar for a drink or two, you're welcome to come if you want". In my head I was like "SWEET!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES I TOTALLY WANT TO COME!!!!!!!!!!!!!" But on the outside I was like "Sure, that sounds like fun. Let me just change shoes." I was so freaking happy. He actually speaks english, and everything like that, so it was fabulous. So, let me just tell you a little about this bar. It's the kind of bar I would seriously avoid like the plague if I was in the states. It was very much like the bars they have in Shocko Bottom. Kelly, Maura, you know what I'm talking about. Kind of like Tobacco Company. Very U of R fuckerish. Like, dress code, drunk girls, the works... It was disgusting... But, it was nice to actually get out. I had my first Bulmers of the trip and let me tell you. Orgasmic... Seriously... I can't believe they don't have it in the states. So I was hanging out with Mr. South Africa, Lionel, and his friend Mr. Slovenia. Now, does anyone actually know where Slovenia is? Because I sure don't . This guy was hilarious. Like he had us rolling on the floor practically when he talked. And he was cute to boot. Hey that rhymed. Anyway, and then we started hanging out with the Italian and the second hottest French guy. The first hot french guy was sick, poor thing, so he stayed here. Oh I forgot. Before we left we were all standing in the lobby and I got to talking to this French girl who turned out to be really nice and cool. It was almost like she could tell that I was a little uncomfortable with all the French being spoken, so she stood there and chatted with me for a while before we left. It was really nice. So yeah, we're standing there at the the Q Bar and the music is ridiculous. Like Nelly, and Justin Timberlake (even thought I really like Justin Timberlake) and madonna. It was like I was back in the states in like 2001. It was a little surreal. So we're talking and Mr. South Africa was like "So do you like boys, or do you like girls, or what". Now, maybe it's just because I'm american and we aren't really as abrubt as South Africans, but it really surprised me that he was so honest about it. Like, in America, someone would never just go right up to someone and ask them their sexual preference. But I quickly got over my surprise and was like "No, I most definitely like boys" and I went in to how it's great in the mornings to just lay in bed and watch all the boys get dressed. He just laughed. So he asked me if I liked Irish men, and I said, yeah as long as they dont' have a beer gut, and since the hostel we are staying at is entirely French, he was like "what about French Guys" and I was like "Well, Tony (the hottest French guy in the building) is one of the best looking guys I've ever seen". But anyway. So we only have like one beer because Mr. Slovenia wants to go to sleep, and honestly, I hated the fucking place from the minute we walked in. So we left. When we got back to the hostel, Mr. Slovenia went to bed, and Mr. South Africa and myself went to our rooms. Now, I really should stop here and explain to you guys how hot Tony actually is. Like, he doesn't look French. He looks like he's mixed. So he's got dark skin and really dark hair, and I'm pretty sure his eyes are brown, but I couldn't honestly say.The first time I saw him I seriously almost creamed. Stunning. So I realized that I hadn't called mom that day and so I left. When I got back Mr. South Africa was in bed, and Tony was in the bathroom. So I grabbed my toothbrush and face wipes and headed in. We struck up a conversation. Well, as much of a conversation as possible. Half of the time it was me trying to figure out what he was trying to say, and then him trying to decipher my accent. Oh, I forgot again. You know how I've always wanted to be that person with the accent. Well apparently I am. Before we left the Q Bar we were talking to one of the French Guys, and he said to me "Where are you from" and of course I said "America" and Mr. Slovenia was like "You only have to talk to her for like a minute before you know where she's from because she has a really heavy American accent". I was like "SWEET!!!!! I have a heavy accent. That's awesome!!!!!". So anyway, getting back to the bathroom scene. He asked me if he could have one of my face wipes, and I wanted to say "Honey, you can have anything you want that belongs to me", but I didn't. I just said "Yeah, help yourself" which he probalby didn't understand. So we just kept talking and we started on the topic of how he had come to Ireland to work on his english and how he wasn't that good. And I was like "Well you speak better english than I speak French" and I had to explain it a bunch because he didn't know what I was talking about. But he was like "Yeah, it's not that good, but you will help with my english, yes?" I was like "Yeah, I'll help you as much as I can". So that was a fun night.

Now, who wants to hear about the ridiculously bad day I had. So yesterday I met with that bitchy recruiter right. So I get woken up at like 10 today because she is calling me telling me she has a role that she thinks would be amazig for me. I wanted to say "Bitch, I fucking told you yesterday that I didn' twant to start till Monday." But because I am nice, I was like "Yeah I can be there". So I head out at around 11, find the place at 11:30, and when I find out what I'm doing, I want to break down. Do you know what I did from 11:30-5:30. I typed. That's right. I was typing financial documents that were in PDF files and not word. It was ridiculous. I didn't think it could happen, but it was probably worse than Fauquier County. I was so pissed. And, at that point I hadn't eaten anything. Like, nothing. So I was starving, and irritated, and all I wanted to be doing was sleeping and watching the boys in my room get undressed. Damnit. I was pissed. So 5:30 finally rolled around, and I was like "Sweet, that means I get to go home" sort of. It would not be an easy feat (is that right?). The LUAS, which is like an above ground subway is what I rode in from work to the city. It was packed. I was seriously face to face, like within 3 inches, with this irish fellow, and someone was seriously all up on my backside. It was ridiculous. I was so pissed, and a little clausterphobic. So I finally got off the LUAS, and thought my troubles were behind me.

Nope. Off licenses are what they call "Liquor stores" here. So I went into the nearest SPAR, which is usually an off license. I was planning on endulging in as many Bulmers Lights as I could get my hands on. Well, this one wasn't an off license. Damnit. So I had to find another one that was. I guess it wasn't that hard considering theres like a Spar on every street corner. So I went into the closest one after that, bought 4 Bulmers lights and headed back to the hostel, sat in the lobby and drank away my sorrows. So if this blog seems a bit rambly, it's because I've had two and a half Bulmers and not a single thing to eat.

Oh, also. It's great. So many people here smoke. Like, not cigarrettes. I was sitting around minding my own business and Mr. South Africa and Tony are discussing something, and all of a sudden I realize that it's where to buy, well, you know. And I just laughed. There have been so many times when I've walked through my hallway and swore I smelled it, and wanted to knock on the door (JUST KIDDING MOM!!!!!!), but haven't. I'd like them to invite me, just to be invited. Not that I would indulge or anything, it would just be nice to be invited. haha. Anyhoo. That is all... Goodbye...