Extraneous Details for Your Perusal

I realized that there are several little tidbits of information that are just interesting to know, and that might be helpful in understanding what's happening.  I'll try to go in roughly chronological order.

I initially heard about the study abroad opportunities while sitting in the advising office waiting for my appointment to add marketing as my second major.  At the time, I was an accounting major who was falling haplessly in love with my marketing class, which was the subject that had initially turned me toward business in the first place.  How I decided to go with accounting instead, I genuinely can't remember.  I believe it had something to do with wanting to prove that I'm a big smarty pants, and to do something hard just because I wanted to win at doing hard things.  This is rarely a good reason to do things.

An informational meeting was coming up soon, and I decided to go.  The meeting was very interesting -- other trips were mentioned, one to England and one to India.  England was a close second for me, but I was told that Leta likes to take people who are desperate to take only her trip.  If I really want it, it should be the only trip for which I apply.  I walked away from that meeting feeling incredibly confident that I would be accepted.  It was an inexplicable feeling that I was definitely destined to go on this trip.

In my preparations for the application, I happened to mention it to my friend from accounting.  Now, she's got what I would call, really good luck.  She is currently on a scholarship with the AICPA, which is an academic accounting fraternity of some sort, and she got this really cool internship with the King County Courthouse as a forensic accountant (I had no idea that was even a thing).  She's got some added demographic benefits, such as being Latina, and being a non-traditional returning student, etc.  Anyway, when she found out that I was applying, she decided to apply as well.  The goal was to take the trip together.

My confidence immediately dropped.  On one hand, it would be incredible to have an existing friend for the trip.  Ireland wouldn't be ready for the two of us.  But, on the other hand, I was very seriously concerned that rather than take us as a boxed set, Leta would pick my friend over me.  I delayed very seriously in finishing my application, and finally completed it a week or so before the deadline.  I wrote my personal statement honestly, naturally, and from the heart, and decided to let it play out as it would.

Well, the spoiler is that obviously I was accepted.  Unfortunately, my friend was not.  Now that I know the other members of the group, I really wish she was coming, so that I would have a decent friend with a viperish sense of humor to tour Ireland with me.  But it is probably best for my personal growth that I make this trip alone.  But I will sorely miss her.

*   *   *

I found out I was accepted to the trip via phone call.  Now, what is funny is that my phone is forever attached to the side of my face.  The fact that Leta was able to call three separate times when I did not have my phone on my person is remarkable.  I didn't recognize the number, and she didn't leave a message, so I had no idea who this person was who kept calling me at 9:30 at night.  I wasn't going to call them back and interrogate them -- "Hello, why do you keep calling me, I think you have the wrong number, who are you so I can tell you that you have the wrong number?  You didn't leave a message so I don't know who you are, or who you were trying to reach, but I'm pretty sure you have the wrong number, so I'm calling you back to follow up, and make sure you get a hold of whoever you're supposed to be calling, because it's definitely not me, because I think you have the wrong number."

Finally, I was on the phone with Chris when the number started to call me.  I was, by now, quite perplexed about this very insistent person who never left a message.  I hung up with Chris to take the call, and it was Leta.  She said hello, and asked for me, and then she spent a little time admonishing me for not answering my phone.  Then she said that I'm on the team, and I swear to God, I said "what team?"  And she said "The trip to Ireland!  You're going to Ireland."  And then I screamed at her.

Once I was done screaming, I thanked her profusely, and apologized profusely, and thanked her again.  I ran downstairs to tell my parents, and then I cried for a little while because I was so damn excited.  I called Chris back, and he was also excited, and at this point I had stopped crying, so I tried to act nonchalant.

*   *   *

Flash forward to our first meeting of the group, in mid-April.  We did some typical ice-breaker activities, and did mini-interviews with each other to introduce our partner to the rest of the group.  Leta loves what she called "juicy details," so I mentioned to my partner, Toto (Cambodian) that I used to speed-read for debate, and could talk at about 400 words per minute.  When this was announced to the group, I was required to perform this skill.  I did ok, for someone who was severely out of practice, but I got hung up on the word "economics" and stuttered until I got going again, which is always embarrassing.  I was also the only person to be required to perform for my juicy detail.

A few people were not in attendance for work or class, and one of those people was Will.  Leta said that Will was coming late, and alluded to something about him and sheep.  When he arrived, after my stuttering display, she turned to welcome him and said "It's Will!  The sheep guy!"  We all looked between Leta and Will, and he started to explain, but Leta waved him off and said "it's a story."  As he sat down, he assured those of us nearest to him that it was NOT a story.

We talked about the trip, and the companies we would visit.  I asked about the sheep farm, because on the trip brochure it mentioned a sheep farm.  She asked if I had raised sheep, but I said that my mom and I both knit.  Apparently that was more than enough interest for her, and she declared that my company profile should be on the sheep farm.  In a stunning moment of revelation, she realized that Will could be my partner, because he was the sheep guy, so we'll be partners, and we'll be the sheep people.

Oh God, trip hasn't even started yet, and already branded as a Sheep Person.

I met with Will when the group broke up a little later, and asked him about "the story" related to the sheep.  He said that he was raised on a farm in Eastern Washington, and that, among other animals, sheep were on the farm.  That's all.

Still, we are branded for life as The Sheep People.

*   *   *

On an insufferably hot day, our group met to learn about the history of Ireland from Leta's husband, Mark.  He has a PhD (?) in history, and despite the education, he spent a decent portion of time trying to operate YouTube to show us a video about the IRA.  One should never laugh at a person for struggling with things, but he was being exceptionally comical about it.  I am going to believe that he was doing a caricature of a person who can't find the mouse on the screen.

He was, however, a fantastic story-teller, who gave a brief history of Ireland in about 45 minutes.  He will be meeting up with our group for a week in Ireland, for his and Leta's wedding anniversary.

During this same meeting, we all put our names on little tickets, to be drawn from a hat later.  I always feel some dread associated with being up to "win" anything, because 75% of the time, the "award" is a task (in my experience).  Just as she was about to draw, she informed us that she had 5 Rick Steve's Ireland travel books that she was giving away.  I very nearly declared that she could take my name out of the running, because I had already bought the Lonely Planet Ireland book.  But before I could speak, my name was the first one to come out of the hat, and I suddenly decided that I desperately wanted it, so I kept my mouth shut, and graciously took my award.  Best drawing ever!

Coping

When I got accepted for this trip to Ireland, I think I felt my blood pressure palpably rise.  It's very exciting, but I immediately turned my brain over to high-speed insanity whenever the trip or any related issues were mentioned.  (I can further support this with the fact that I was up until 1 am working on the presentation I gave with a partner about the Irish sheep farm on the Ring of Kerry, when most other people didn't seem bothered to do a decent job at all for their topics.  One girl spent her entire speech about Jameson whiskey talking about a spring break trip to Boston that she took, and related her tour of a beer manufacturer to the (vastly different) distillation of Irish whiskey.  Excuse me, but please stop bragging about your vacations, and just talk about the topic to which you were assigned.)

Anyway, several pre-departure sessions were scheduled during the school year.  After each of these meetings I was simultaneously invigorated and terrified.  I became increasingly sure that I would love Ireland and the people and the climate and the environment.

I also became increasingly confident that I would not fit in with my fellow groupmates.  I think I've started to single out a few people with whom I can have a decent time, but the vast majority of our group is Greek, and if they are not actually living together in a fraternity right now, most of them are at least friends, or well-acquainted.  It's concerning to me that I will have no one to talk to, and the mandate that we must always travel in pairs may result in my spending a lot of time in the hostel.  To all of you who know me well, you'll know how shocking it is for me to have difficulty finding someone with whom to converse.  I was built to talk to adults or children, but people my own age are mystifying.  There are moments when I speak words out loud, and no one hears me.  My sense of humor (which I acknowledge is rather sharp sometimes) falls on completely deaf ears.  I've never experienced anything like it.  I was spared the heartbreak of high school ostracization while I was in high school, but it's all catching up with me for this brief trip to Ireland.

(Interestingly, at a completely unrelated family barbecue on Saturday, I was introduced by my host to a very nice Irish couple, and spent much of the evening talking to the wife, Siobhan.  All of my expectations about the friendliness and kindness of the Irish was completely confirmed, and she assured me that I would find more people like her upon my arrival.  We talked about Penny's -- a fabulously cheap department store, -- about putting a little black currant juice in my Guinness to cut the bitterness, about taking the hokey bus tour of Dublin because it really is pretty interesting, and about how Ireland has had a very hot summer so the weather will probably still be warm and comfortable when I'm traveling.  She completely set my mind at ease that my trip will be fantastic.)

The last official meeting of the crew was a barbecue at Leta's (director's) house in Edmonds.  So on Sunday I trooped dutifully out into the admittedly gorgeous, if very distant, hinterlands north of Seattle but south of Bellingham.  Approximately half of our group was in attendance, 11 of 26, and we discussed the final schedule, packing lists, credit unions, and other sundry topics.  From the mood of my peers, my anxiety is completely and wildly abnormal.  Most of them confessed to not having thought about packing yet at all, and several had yet to call their banks, or had confirmed with the State Department and the Embassy.  I left the barbecue feeling as though all the anxiety that I had let out the night before had all rolled itself right back up inside me.  I called home to let my parents know that I was headed back, and dad gave me a bit of an extra dig (he is somehow surprised and offended that I am so anxious.  It's as though he forgot the nightmare that was me before leaving for Alaska last year.).

Thank God for my mother, who is just as anxious as I am, and who is also not coping well.  She's opted for serious and complete denial.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, as it were.

Pre-Departure Prepping

In my efforts to learn about Ireland before I leave, I've reached that point that I think many ambivalent travelers get to, where it's almost too scary to think about your trip, so you don't want to read anymore about it.  I'm just this side of all Ireland-ed up, and I have another 6 weeks before I leave.  I've been listening to books about Ireland history during my commute, and whenever I get the chance, I read Malachy McCort's History of Ireland.  The trouble is, I can't seem to find the time to read it, and when I'm driving, I spend more time appreciating the Julie Andrews quality of the reader's voice than listening to the trials and tribulations of Ireland's fight for freedom.

I'm trying to make plans for which restaurants and pubs to visit while I am in Dublin.  What I've heard is that if you go to the same bar twice you become a regular.  I want to pick a pub and become a regular, because, OH MY GOD, how cool is it to become a regular while you're abroad??  I had this idea to compare the pubs and restaurants in my Lonely Planet travel book to the ones in the Rick Steves travel book, and pick the ones that are most highly recommended by both books.  But I realized really quickly that that would be both crazy and ridiculous, as I'm cross-comparing sights and places, and making some kind of crazy itinerary?  That sounds slightly overkill.  Maybe it's a good idea?  We'll see.

I need to force myself to read more though, because I know I will get so much more out of the trip if I do.

In a related story, there's a really serious possibility that I lost the SD card from my trip to Alaska, so, yeah.  That's a massive bummer, until the day that I find it, when it will all be better.  But for now, I think I lost all my pics.  :(