Empty Cage

I have a lot of ‘real life’ sort of updates today (including some web ones, but let’s focus on me haha) and, despite the fact that Syd, my laptop is not yet back from the shop, I can type fairly well on this IBM, even though it sounds positively terrible. It’s on it’s last legs for sure. So, let us begin!

I have finally started school first of all, which is tons of fun in and of itself. I am officially a Philosophy student at the University of Ottawa! A grand school in our nations capital the campus is beautiful, and I’m still a bit haggard from ‘101 week’ which is what they call frosh week. I’m still a non-drinker (I hate the taste, though I have had a few drinks to keep the peace with some rambunctious drunk people), but it is so much motion, and so much meeting, that for someone like me it gets exhausting! I went to maybe half of the events.

Because I’m forcing myself not to be a social recluse here, as I usually am, my goal has been to find venues that I’m comfortable in and meet people, as well as trying to get to know people in my classes in an effort to if not find a ‘best friend’ have people that I could hang out with should I feel so inclined. So far I’ve had some moderate success in this — there’s a pretty nice looking guy in my Latin class who I talk to all the time, and a nice, albeit hyperish girl in my English class who has me in stitches the entire class.

I also try to go to the Thursday night Philosophy Discussion Groups, allowing me to observe people and their theories — this being the only venue that I drink at (if even this!) as we do hold it in the basement of a pub, and I get offered about thirty drinks a night, usually I pull what Andrew would call a ‘Sue Saunderson’ and accept one drink and nurse it all night. Normally I’d be all ‘fierce I don’t drink’ but I’m legal, and I find people get very standoffish and defensive if you just don’t drink, as if because you don’t drink you expect them to not drink. To be honest, I don’t really care too much, but it’s a subconscious thing, and I’d rather not have people be chilly towards me because of my choice. One beer over the course of about four hours once a week doesn’t really concern me too much. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t even really count, I find I still have about half a glass by the time I leave, which someone else is more than happy to relieve me of.

Other than that, I don’t know if I mentioned on here, but I bought myself an electric guitar this summer! It’s a Seafoam Green Fender Squier, a good solid beginner’s instrument I hear, and I got it really cheap. Andrew provided an amp, and after getting some picks, a patch cord, and a headphone adaptor I find I can kill hours with it. I’m not really following a course or tutorial or taking lessons. In fact, usually I just dig up a tab, and try playing it until it sounds right. Mostly, though, I love to just sit, close my eyes and pluck the strings randomly and see what sort of sounds the thing can make, trying to come up with words for the sounds. If I didn’t have headphones I’m sure my room mate would commit suicide while I did this. Because it isn’t really music, just sound. So far my only accomplishment was finding a way to play power chords comfortably. While Dan showed me how to play them ages ago it was always a painful hyper extention for me, and I was worried my hands were simply too small for the instrument. Did I need a children’s guitar? God I would have lost it, after all, Andrew and Daniel always laugh, because I had to hold a PS2 controller with one hand hooked over the top to hit all the right buttons! Fortunately, after playing with the angle I held the instrument at, I managed to find a comfortable way to play power chords. All-in-all, I’ve really been enjoying learning to play the guitar, I’m absolute rubbish, and can only play things like ‘the intro to Daytripper, Smoke on the Water, and Smells like teen Spirit’ but it’s relaxing for me, and helping me with my goal of not always being on the internet.

My classes are all great except English. English is ‘essay writing’ and we’re currently reviewing nouns and verbs. Yes, seriously! In a University course I am learning that an adjective describes a noun. Other than that I have Philosophy Critical Thinking and Reasoning, History 1500s-1900s, Latin I, and Technical Theatre I. I’ll write more on my courses later, suffice to say, I’m in them, I enjoy them, and only two are big enough to be in lecture halls.

In my little web kingdom, I have (obviously) successfully moved hosts. My next steps involve filling the domain (still!) and changing the entry classification system (use a mix of tags and categories), moving Cursed onto a CMS so I’ll actually be inclined to update. It is my hope to get Cursed completely up-to-date with the finishing of the manga. I want it perfectly comprehensive so I can leave it alone. As well as a new layout. Next I want Loyalties to be a proper shrine, so it will likely also move onto a CMS. I’m looking at Chyrp, if anyone has any input on that. As Amber mentioned Wordpress is pretty heavy duty. Finally, Wonderland, and Enigma are my last two on my immediate to-do list.

Anyways, I do have more to add, like my need to get a job, my trials getting into a computer course, my deepest desire to take driving lessons, and how badly studying for my A+ Technician exam is going, but I need to get ready for Latin. Cheerio.

I have managed to free myself from my host’s evil clutches and I have installed Wordpress seperate from them, I’ve upgraded to Version 2.6 have the WordPress files in a different folder from my index, and am finally ready to get some of these bloody pages up and have EC an actual functioning domain.

Some pages to be coming as early as today, but most will be slowly as I get bored at work.

Plugs to:

Amber, I try to make you feel better because I know that you are more than capable of reaching all those things you want to do if you just leap ? I will cheer you on forever. And you were my Affiliate in Evil at that time so you should remember it.

Mia, thanks for stopping in! Splash pages! and Iframes! That brings everyone back. I think the problem I’ve run into is “experienced webdesigners” writing massive rants about the websites of people who are obviously brand new.

But Andrew came over and I had to fix Cathy Goldberg’s computer! How was I supposed to update, huh? By magic? Eh? Eh?!

 I love hardware repairs way more than software ones, with hardware at the end you can say ‘Yes. This is fixed. There is a taste of minor triumph.’ With software… well, now you’re dealing with the ‘ghosts in the machine.’ Which I think would be a pretty cool thing to haunt to be honest. Typing cryptic messages every few days, causing myself to implode. Other nefarious misdemeanors… I’d be worse than Y2K! (Which was a bit of a let down with regards to the collapse of the universe)

 Will I update tonight? Maybe.

It’s my broski’s birthday, and I should probably be nice to him as I can’t really afford to get him anything. Oh, my dear bother… that was a typo, I did indeed mean brother. He’ll be seventeen, which I find kind of scary, he’s getting so big and grown up and totally can and will push me around at random.

 I still need to pick my courses for school, but I need to call the university because according to their website all of the compulsory classes I need to take are full. Hmn. My old manager Al said he’d help hook me up with a job at Staples Ottawa, so that takes care of the fact that I have no money at all. My residence is amazing, I can hardly wait to move in with my… double bed and cable TV. BWAAHAHAHAHAH! I don’t even have that in my room at home.

I have a new chapter to upload for Whitechapel, which I will get to soon, I’ve just been so preoccupied with work and life, and have started a new (hopefully) short story about a rockstar. (It sucks less than in sounds like it should I promise) So I’ve been actively writing, a lot of my usual philosophic rants in my paper journal mostly.

In the merry land of websites, obviously my priority is fixing this place up to a serviceable level again, I finished the Sakaki Haruto Fanlisting though (and already it needs a new layout), and totally GOT APPROVED FOR THE CHESHIRE CAT FANLIST!! yey. Book and Movie Characters, not animation, which strikes me as odd that they are two seperate but whatever. The small webshrine I was going to be making for the Cheshire Cat recieves new furvor, in fact, I may apply for American McGee’s Alice — The Cheshire Cat too just because I am that addicted. No word on the Magical Mystery Tour yet. Albums said they would update this week though, so we’ll see. Loyalties will be getting fixed up soon. My other websites — Ruins is going to be born as I need something Angel Sanctuary, and I’m going to upload all my info on Umbreon for Enigma like I should have done months ago. Cursed also has an update coming in the near future as I prepare to get it fully up to date, as, for those who are yet unaware, the Inuyasha series has finally finished. Loyalties is also looking for an update, and Bloodlust is teetering but may be turned into a Shougo Kawada shrine before the day is out (despite my Sugimura love Shougo would be much more interesting to write about I think)

For OTHER people’s websites, Justin if you still exist, and even read my blog anymore I can make Twilight RO a new layout, last I checked your domain was down, but if you ever read it, I can redo. Blue Heron Books is going to be made less ugly and updated to use Word Press. And finally, Shards will be finished hopefully before CN Anime….

Anyone else here look back fondly on their childhood and find when ponder growing up they simply think ’Wow, if I had known this was going to happen I would never have eaten my vegetables.’ I miss the days when summer meant doing whatever struck my fancy (within vague reason) and whenever I wanted to. If I wanted to sit on a computer all day I did, and if I wanted to run wild through the streets of Uxbridge, well, that was another option.

 Now, my summers are like a preview to ‘the real world’, I wake up at some heathen hour, drive an hour, work all day, drive an hour home, and have no desire to live much less do anything productive, then sleep on edge, because I know the very next day I will be jarred awake at 6:30AM. Rinse, repeat, every day, all summer. Summer is really no more special than any other season to be honest, but our society have given summer standing above all for no reason

Go, winter, go!

Anyways, apart from whining about my job, I’ve been trying to pick my courses for Uni, but it looks like all my compulsory credit courses are filled in the fall semester, making me wonder if, perhaps, I’ll have one course in Autumn, and nine in the winter, which would not be cool at all. I have to call University of Ottawa and find out what I’m supposed to do. I’m hoping to get into a Latin course, and I think I’m the only one ever that finds the idea of one cool.

In the universe of web, I’m going to recode everything… and I mean everything. As well as hopefully update layouts as well and simply make Empty Cage able to make it part of the way through validation before it says ‘funk this’ My coding is abysmal! Thank god for Amber who is my Web Guru, and has been helping me all the way along. Hopefully one day E-C.NET will look pretty.

I forgot to update but Felicity (Fee) Worthington of the Gemma Doyle trilogy has a new (readable) layout, as well as codes, and some other small spiffy updates that make it look less like I threw it together in my sleep. I’ll even rewrite the content once I reread the books. Go look at it now, even if you don’t know what the heck I’m on about.

 Job still blows.

I am at work. I was working up until a few minutes ago, when I finished and Rob (my boss) is nowhere to be found. I think he’s in a meeting. So, I’m working in a warehouse for my dad’s company, and let me make it perfectly clear, I did not and do not want this job. In fact, I would sorely like to pluck my own eyes out. I haven’t really had female contact in months, and no Andrew to bring out my feminine side (no, there’s nothing insulting about that, read it again). Everyone here is really pretty gangstahhh and no wonder, I’m in Scarborough… I seriously need some ‘peeps’ My job involved unpacking wireless access points (for large stores like Loblaws) labelling them, and scanning them. Rinse repeat. I’m supposed to learn how to progam these things eventually, but that’s taking a bit longer than planned. It’s an hour commute to and from work. I am not pleased. It’s nice to spend some quality time with dad in the car though. I guess. Albiet, not nice enough to keep the job, my eyes are peeled. $10/hour working 8-5… pain pain pain.

I have a new much loved band called ‘Mad Staring Eyes’ (look them up on mySpace — and while you’re at it visit Sean Dineley at Huck’s Fin) I got their album from a band member at Pearson International while I was picking up my bag, he asked me to come to his show, but I didn’t listen to the CD until yesterday so I missed them, now I’m disappointed! Hahaha! That’s where the entry title comes from by the way, it seemed oddly fitting.

I had my photos taken for some movie audition thing, it was most insane, the photographer was insanely complimentary, I often wonder if that is obligatory in photographers, flatter the hell out of everyone who comes near you. At any rate it was interesting to watch and participate in. They talked about how my face would work for a part if I had bigger bags under my eyes and I stopped just shy of saying ‘Give me a few more weeks at this job, and I’ll give you bags.’

Still no word from Jamie, I’m trying to decide if sending a second e-mail looks like obsession. I abhor crushes.

I almost worked on websites last night but I spoke to Samantha on MSN, and she happened to be playing Pokemon, and obviously I then had to get my DS, and I played it most of the night. So anyone looking for website updates, blame her! Not me!

I’m thinking of learning to play the acoustic guitar that has migrated into my room.

I have been planning a new layout for this place but I cannot come up with how I want it to look, so I’m sitting here being a bit crippled. This layout makes me want to be back in the UK, and even if I consider it the best layout I have ever made it’s still a bit awkward to keep it up now that I’m back in Canada.

 I’ve been so restless lately. So awkward coming back to this place.

Well, I guess now is the point in which I finish talking about my trip and talk about my homecoming. Home… such a relative term. Anyways.

 At Munich I also toured Dachau, the other concentration camp on my mission. I took a guided tour and it wasn’t quite as moving as Sachausen, but I learned a whole heap more about sort of what when on in the camp itself. On the whole Munich was a pretty average place to visit. I would recomend it to people who actually drink unlike yours truly.

Keyboards in Germany are bizarre. The letter ‘Y’ and the letter ‘Z’ are actually switched, so it was nearly impossible for me to type anything. In Munich I met an Aussie lady travelling actually with her daughter, I tried to imagine how that would go for me and my mom, and who would try and drown whom first in the beer garden.

There were some other strange things in Germany though, like every cup has a line on it to show exactly where, say o.4 litres is so they don’t accidentally give you too much soda, as well, most bathrooms have an automatic seat cleaner, which, after you flush, wipes down the seat with what looks like a wet napkin. So strange, and yet, so German. My German was terrible as expected.

My thoughts are scattered again, so apologies for another entry that seems disconnected, my mind is missing today. I’m just so… But nevermind.

From Germany I went down to Italy, stopping in a small Austrian town in the Alps. It was pretty, but we only stopped there half an hour. I think it was called St. Johannes or something. Regardless, very picturesque… but of course… I have no pictures of it.

Yea, my second camera was stolen in Venice. Go me. Ugh.

Anyways, Venice was quite interesting, but beautifully terrifying. When they say you ‘get lost in Venice’ this is not some sort of romantic sentiment, this is cold hard fact. You will get lost in Venice. I went into the city thinking I’d spend two or three hours just chilling in the city — seven hours later when I found the train station again. Haha. But yea, camera with all of my pictures from the trip… gone. Figures.

Venice is stange and terrifying with an hundred small streets and alleys the walls are all high so it’s almost impossible to navigate properly, and with all the mask shops and other rather eerie looking places it really is a bit of a creepy city. Though it is interesting to go into a shop and see some Italian painting a mask right there on the front counter. Seriously, genuine Venetian or what? I wish I had someone to talk to in Venice though because I felt very alone the whole time. My Visa stopped working for awhile whilst I was there too, thus leading to a little unbridled terror for one of my days in Venice.

The ‘hostel’ in Venice was actually a camp site, right by the airport. Yes, all night it was awesome all you could hear was ‘VAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!’ of the airplanes going overhead. And, my room mates who left on the first day left something rank in the room. Venice was, on the whole a place I was a bit uncomfortable in. I want to go back, but not alone, which is odd for me.

 From Venice I hit Rome which was a bit on the surreal side I have to admit. Oh, look, there’s the Collseum, and… the Forum… and the Pantheon… and a hundred amazing buildings and… well let’s face it, the city oozes awesome from it’s ancient pores. Seriously, if walking London is like walking a novel, walking Rome is like walking a history text book. Who knew the Pantheon was now a Christian church, because I certainly didn’t. Seems, I don’t know, ironic or something.

Vatican City was impressive to say the least, so extravagent, sort of like Versailles, where you sit there thinking no wonder it couldn’t last forever without some serious trouble. I even got to see the real version of my favourite painting, ‘The School of Athens’ by Raphael. And the pope paid for my lunch. Indirectly of course.

I go to the cafeteria and pick up a modest lunch, noting that they take Visa, as to be honest I never had more than 5 Euros cash all through Italy, anyways, I go to pay and wouldn’t you know it, the Visa machine isn’t working. I ask where the nearest ATM is, and she says there isn’t one in the Vatican. I’m starving and probably look it, because she mutters something in Italian and runs off, coming back with a manager looking guy, and they basically say ‘Go eat.’ so there we are free lunch.

Okay.

Sorry this entry is lacking my usual charisma, but my heart isn’t really in it right now. I really want to relate all these stories to you properly, but I’m so dejected about returning to Canada just opening up Wordpress seemed unapealing to the point of nauseating.

Now everyone’s mad because I don’t want to come back, but it’s not the people I don’t want to come back to. It’s that I’ve fallen for this stupid country quirks and all. Everything from the robolady on the Chyuuube, to driving on the wrong side of the road, to the lifts. And I love all you nutty Canucks back home, but this is the place I feel like I should be, and leaving it is hard.

Back to packing.

I have not written in ages, mostly because this weekend about a hundred things apeared out of nowhere and tackled me with the fury of a raging… Heelan Coo. (Scottish Joke… go google, but interestingly enough, not wikipedia that.) I have moved rooms twice this weekend.

First of all, for your classic teenage girl (still 19, suckers) rant, I am here to say I quite dislike men. Seriously. I was in the kitchen minding my own sweet business without a care in the world (besides money, but let’s pretend that doesn’t count), and likely whistling off key (Yes, the Kill Bill song!) when some guy comes in. This is not at all uncommon as the kitchen is public, however, I am in the small out of the way kitchen that few people frequent, so, I do what anyone would do in my half-starved situation grunt something that may or may not have resembled ‘Hello’ and carry on my merry little way. He starts conversation and I reply in monosyllables which I am known to do when tired, hungry or both. A few minutes later a couple come in, I’m stuffing my face gracelessly, and so I give my introduction as I’m feeling a bit less half-starved and deranged. Turns out they are from Quebec, and the first guy is from Brazil (and before anyone gets these visions of some tanned football player, no, pasty white geek) the four of us chat, before a fifth, an American joins our little party, thus finishing the ‘other side of the pond’ gang. We talk for ages about whatever strikes our fancy, until about 1 o’clock (in the AM) when the French Canadians go to sleep as they have an early departure. Ryan, our American friend also floats off to get some sleep, and I decide to walk down to the castle that evening, just because it is awe inspiring at night. Brazil asks to come with, I size him up and determine in a fight that I would win, and therefore agree.

 Once we get to the castle I show him one of the best views of the city as well as the armed guard, he, as expected gets very… in my face. I give him an elegant shove and just say ‘No thank you.’ and think ‘I will sic Andrew on you SO BAD!’ because even if we aren’t dating Andrew will still crush people for me. I’m sure. So, I storm back to the hostel and he follows me apologizing. No dice thinks I. I know he is leaving the next day, so I lock my doors and sleep easy. The next morning I am due to move downstairs to a six bed all girl’s dorm, which is made of win, because it isn’t so awkward going to sleep and wondering which guy in your room is going to attack you. After my move I talk to dad on the phone for awhile, and decide in due time to go get some groceries because for the past few days I had been eating ‘anything I had in the fridge that was about to expire’ I really am a student eater now. Anyways, who is in my kitchen but Brazil guy, he tries to talk to me, but anyone who knows what it’s like talking to me when I’m feeling obstinant knows that was akin to talking to a brick wall with a frowning face painted upon it. I return to my room, my new room, and at this point have met a few room mates, one answers the door, and guess who it is.

He needs to check out and wants to leave his iPod in here rather than in storage with the rest of his luggage, and then asks beyond the room mate at the door if I can show him where Cowgate is. Knowing Cowgate is a crowded street at the best of times and if he tries anything funny all the hungover Uni kids will jump him I agree. I walk him down to Cowgate and turn to leave and he asks if I’ll stick with him for awhile because he doesn’t know where anything is in the city. Feeling safer during the day and having no real excuse to speak of I miserably agree. By the time we have reached the castle (for the second time and during the day) I have had enough (I have this unnatural thing against guys being gentlemen and asking to hold my coat and paying for me and stuff, which is really stupid…) and make the usual ‘feeling really sick’ excuse and jog back to the hostel and lock myself in my room. Only to remember his iPod is still there. Exuse the language but this was all I could think “Ah, fuck.”

Fortunately, I was saved by my room mate Jill from Ottawa! (Billowing cape not included) Who invited me to go on a ghost walk with her. I quickly agreed and off we went, I unceremoniously dropped the iPod off at reception saying some guy from Brazil had left it in my room. I would never see Brazil Guy again, he seemed so upset when I left him up at the castle part 2 but by that time my Care-O-Metre was down in the negative numbers.

The ghost walk was amazingly awesome though! Well, it was a bit short, but I got to go into the Covenanter’s Prison which was cool. For those who like to have a bit of background, the Covenanters emerged around the time, I think, of Charles II though you probably shouldn’t quote me on that. Essentially what happened was they were not happy about the idea of the King being the head of their religion so they signed a pact with god (I will avoid making atheistic references here about gods and holding pens). The King was none-too-happy as you can imagine, so the covenanters were put into a prision which is credited as the world’s first concentration camp by the Scots. The prison was overseen by the King’s Advocate George Mackenzie — Bloody, or, to be really Scottish about it, Bluidy Mackenzie. Anyways, apparently Mackenzie still haunts the prison, and there have been ‘no fewer than 300 attacks’ says the brochure. I saw no paranormal activity, however I did throughly enjoy seeing the inside of the prison. I’m such a nonbeliever it hurts, I’d love to be able to do more research there and see it during the day. Alas, it is locked to everyone except the tour I was on.

The next day, after being assured the iPod was gone, I was moved back into a mixed dorm where I am right now. (Not something I am happy about) Jill invited me on a free walking tour, it being a bank holiday and having nothing better to do I go with her, the free tour is three hours which is amazing (the one I paid for being 1.5 hours) it gave me a good once over of the main sights of the city. On the tour we met a guy from Toronto who was stuying in Paris but in Scotland for the 3 day weekend. After the tour, and wandering the Prince’s Street Gardens, followed by Prince’s Street, then the very same hill where I witnessed my first pagan festival the ‘bad idea’ was bourne. We left the hill on the wrong side and came upon Holyrood House (The Queen’s Residence in Scotland) which is very close to Arthur’s Seat. I had to meet someone (Mrs. Ross the great aunt of the Lindsay kids) at 5. At a leisurely pace I imagine walking Arthur’s Seat would have been lovely, but, as I said to my companions who were throwing themselves up the hill ‘This reminds me of Gym Class!’ The view was stunning at the top, but I was too busy staring at my watch in horror.

After gracelessly making our way down the hill and me all but flying back to the hostel to change and get ready to visit Mrs. Ross. That that it mattered. I was pointed in the wrong direction leaving the hostel and pretty much saw all there is to see of South Edinburgh. Dinner with Mrs. Ross was nice, but I felt very uninteresting. ‘Yes, uhm, so, I’m Caitlin, and I’m from Canada. Nice, uhm, country you have here.’ Regardless she lent me a beautiful copy of one of Sartre’s earlier writings which I am salivating over.

So that was my eventful weekend in all of it’s glory. I did not slow down the whole time, I hardly remember my name anymore. Of course, the next question is what I am going to do next. You see, I am now at a crossroads at this trip.

It should be blatantly obvious by now that I have had heaps of trouble finding a job here for whatever reason. Everyone seems to be ignoring me, which makes me pretty much furious, and the money is (as expected) running low. My original return ticket is set for something in the middle of June, I had orginally planned to push that back into July, however, I have a few reasons why it would make sense for me to keep it where it is, and now I’m not quite sure what to do. So far the plan is looking like this, if I get a solid job to fill my next three months until the end of July then I will stay here, if, by the end of the week I don’t have a job I will take every cent that I have fly to somewhere in northern Europe and travel my way down to Italy, have no money left in the bank and start working as soon as I get back. I would also get my G2 and take my grade 12 math credit if I came back.

While about 96% of me wants to stay here and find a way to just never leave this country that I have fallen in love with. (Yes, despite everything I am still not turned off of living here, in fact, if anything it has made me want to live on this batty little island all the more) The mature, adult part of me, which seems to have been birthed quite suddenly and quite recently knows that for practicality’s sake maybe going back to Canada earlier rather than later is a good idea. I have to get ready for school, I have to think about all of the important stuff which is going to be coming up in the next few years, and even if I want to stay here so much it has the potential to drive me completely mad, I have things I have to do at home and I have to keep myself thinking about the future, and if I want to end up here I need to have some sort of way to generate the pounds. The whiny petulant side of me doesn’t like this at all, let me tell you. If I clean out my account, and get back midJune I can probably accumulate maybe 2 thousand dollars, plus getting a loan and a job on campus, I should be able to actually get my act together for school.

Pros and Cons, blah. Grown up, or not. I never want to grow up, but nature is forcing me. We’ll see what happens this week and then I’ll know for sure.

To my commenters:

Amber, done <3 Sorry it took so long Word Press was giving me a rough time. I got Sakaki back, apparently they mixed up my removal or something?

Crystal, it is crazy like that sadly. I feel your heartings from here though.

Mom, it might as well have been a rave. Mrs. Ross was quite nice.

Ange, my Texan friend XD. If you want me to call, say, 8AM my time I wouldn’t have too much of a problem with that, I’m sure you wouldn’t either.

The noisy Aussies who hated me, the Indian who was probably  too ill to be in a hostel that night as she made the most amazing sounds from the moment her head hit the pillow until she woke up, the pant(and trouser!)less wonder, Team God Bless America… you certainly meet interesting characters in hostels. Then you meet people like KiwiClare, HottieMcScotland, and ‘I’m not in Mississippi anymore’, and suddenly you remember that hostelling isn’t really all that bad.

HOWEVER. I am going to KILL my only room mate this week. KILL HER WITH KNIVES. Call my BFF Jack, teh rippxxorzxcorelollerskates.

But seriously.

This woman is probablyyyy about 60 something or 70 something. Therefore lulling you into a false sense of security. You’d THINK it would be me pissing her off, after all, I am a strapping teenager full of vitality and life.

But no. Not at all in fact, night one, I politely introduce myself and say ‘I have to sleep now, I need to work tomorrow’ Does she shut up? No! Is it general chatter? Nope! Specific questions that I feel obliged to answer in the interest of peace in the hostel? Abso-bloody-lutely!

Now, generally speaking, talking too much is forgivable in a hostel, last night is why I want to kill her.

I go to bed nice and early after talking to Stacey on the phone, I notice her bags and stuff are still around but she’s not in yet, I figure I should sleep anyways ‘Hostel Law number five hundred and twenty four states if thou gets to thy hostel after thy first person in the room falls asleep thou shallt get thy shit together silently in the dark, in the mercy of our lord, the manager’ Which I assume she does, because I didn’t wake up when she came in.

It’s not until she turns her radio on at 3:55AM that I wake up. A talk show. First assumption is it’s a mistake, or some kind of seriously funked up alarm system, as the topic of discussion seems to be rice. Then I hear the volume and station being adjusted slightly, to eliminate static.

I am floored by this. As I try to decide if it is quiet enough to sleep through I decide I am too indignant to even try. I try to subtly get across the fact that I am no longer sleeping, by conciously tossing, and sighing. No avail. So I growl over my shoulder, ‘You mind turning that down a bit?’ She offers a gloomy half-arsed apology and turns it off. As though I am putting her out. Hello? It’s 4 AM, don’t funking mess with me.

YHA, Youth Hostel Association my…

 Anyways! Ireland!

I was surprised at how ‘hardcore’ Dublin was. I imagine it has a much ‘younger’ population in London. I arrived after about 45 minutes on a plane and met up with Marilyn. Every sign is in Gaellic and English! My room at Marilyn’s was preeetty much like a hotel room (needless to say I was pleased)

Our day around Dublin was awesome, I managed to get all my touristy stuff down. The Book of Kells, Trinity Collage, and of course I am physically unable to enter a city and not see the official museum. And NOTHING makes you feel like a bad person for being English like an Irish museum. You know, every atrocity EVER was committed by the British. EVER. Nazi Rule? The Royal Family is German! You kind of feel like putting on an Irish accent just in case. The surname… uhm… O’Bagg… yes, that’s me, Caitlin O’Bagg, and of COURSE Caitlin spelt with a C and an I what do you think I am? British?

The worst part is I am Irish and I still felt bad.

After doing Dublin Marilyn took me out to the countryside to see the lambs. I nearly died of adorable overload. Especially the little black one, I relate to the little black sheep. I am the little black sheep.

Sunday was… amazing.

We went to this castle ruin. Only it wasn’t a ‘popular’ castle ruin, so I had the whole castle to myself. It was breathtaking, and to be the only one there. On the way down Marilyn and I met up with a local. I think he said he was going to be doing an archelogical dig there, but I didn’t understand a word with his thick accent and the speed he was talking.

We also went to a monastry and cemetary which I would have appreciated so much more if I wasn’t still in awe of the castle.

To my commenters:

Ange, some of the Hardcore Irish boys were pretty swoonable. My joke was most amazingly amusing! My jokes always are! You said so! You have to stop hanging out with me if my jokes stop being funny! You are ultra fabby (my Britishism) Huzzah!

Daniel, Do comment more, or I’ll set… Dana on you!

From the last entry:

Emmadawn, I needed you and your ‘le 1337 (un-trois-trois-sept) skillz francais’ in Paris. I was so happy getting to see Jim <3

If you want to send me le mail de escargot you can send it here:

16 Bowling Green Lane,
London,
EC1R 0QH

And I will get it <3

Bwahahah on the evil Yellow faces which I’m still trying to figure out how to disable.

To Crystal, I know D= I misses real internets

To Amber, I have a few pages for you to start with, how many do you want at once?

To Mah, no only dead people I hero worship get that sort of love. Syd’s next.