Writing therapy

Another post on the same day, after months of nothing. Well. But I don't know, I jsut felt like I had to write some things down. So, warning, this is a bit melancholy!

Tomorrow I'll have been in Dublin for 3 weeks. In those 3 weeks, I've started my new job, found an apartment, opened a bank account, registered with Immigration, set up phone, broadband and cable accounts, met new people, joined the Dublin chapter of my church, and so on and so on. But somehow it doesn't seem real. It seems like I've been on a long vacation, and that I will be flying back to Hamburg soon, to my familiar apartment and back to my familiar job, and speaking in German again, part of system that was strange 6 years ago, but now is as familiar as my hometown in the US. I'm happy to be here in Dublin, starting a new life. But it seems to emphasize that I really have no home. This is the 9th city that I've lived in in my life. In some ways, that certainly makes it easier to move around. When you're a nomad, schlepping your life around on your back seems, somehow, normal. But at some point, you've got to put down roots. I had thought that Hamburg was it, that I would build a family there, and have a cute little German house and hang white lace curtains from the kitchen window, and eventually become a little old German lady who peers out her window at the goings on of her neighbors and rides her old bike into the village for groceries and gossip (ok, it'll probably be all internet shopping by then, but one must have one's illusions...). But life has gone another direction. I prefer to believe that God has decided that I belong in Dublin. I hope so. So maybe this will be it, where I can put down roots. Minor problem is that I'm not remotely Irish - maybe just a drop of Irish blood in there somewhere. But I am half German, so I kind of belonged there. Can I belong here? Do I want to belong here? It's so different. But a good different, I think. I'll get used to it. After all, it's only been 3 weeks.

Hmmmm, this post is considereably more personal than normal. Well, next post I'll move back to pithy sarcasm. Cheers, y'all.

57 Channels and....

First (and this has nothing to do with todays title), I had my first humiliating experience in Dublin. I walzed into Starbucks, stuck my ipod into my pocket and bought my morning coffee. On the way out, I realized that the ipod was no longer in my pocket! I must have amused several people by the way I hunched over and scoured the floor of the coffee shop, but, glory hallelujah, I found it under a promotional sign. So - I bent over to pick it up, and sent my newly bought and piping hot coffee, well, everywhere. Whole place stops dead and stares. Counter people come and clean up. And I slink out with a bruised ego and a nasty burn on my hand. I am sitting here right now with a nasty yellowish goo on said hand that numbs the excruciating pain (yes, I'm plying for sympathy here...)

Anyway, on to the "57 channels" thing. I have digitial cable!!! Now before I get marked as the world's biggest loser, I have to say that I'm excited about this because I spent the last 6 years of my life confronted with German TV and American TV dubbed into German. Yikes. Now, suddenly I have access to English-language TV heaven. And even better, I get cool British shows! As all Americans know, even the most snobbish of US elites admit to watching BBC America and old episodes of "Are You Being Served". So I can tell my US friends that I watched East Enders and "Ladettes to Ladies", and instead of being reviled as a chav, I am seen as uber cool, avant garde and a charter member of the intelligentsia...though anyone from Ireland or the UK will know that it's the intellectual equivalent of watching professional wrestling...

Right now, I'm thinking guiltily of all my friends who will say "oh how nice. You know, I never, watch TV, too busy with friends, family, work, studies, truly intellectual pursuits, etc..." All I can say is - yes you do. I know you, and I've seen the twitching when you know you'll miss the next American Idol. Don't even.

Boy, I'm in a snarly mood today. Must be the burn on the hand (with said yellow goo...). I'll be nicer next post, I promise.

Welcome To Ireland, the land of, well, Irish people...

This is a mini-post, because I don't really have time to write an long exposition about my move - but, yes, I have yet again packed up from one country and moved to another. I am living in Dublin, Ireland. Heaven help us all. Those of you residing in Germany may now rejoice that I will no longer be complaining about Germany. In fact, everything that I spent 6 years grumbling about I now really, really miss. Typical. But now I will regale you all with musings on Ireland, which I'm sure will entertain the one person who has actually ever read this blog. Cheers, y'all!