I'm going to Ireland.
After much hemming and hawing and cursing every booking website on the interwebs, I finally found myself a too-good-to-be-true fare and PURCHASED that SUCKER.
It's fairly surreal to think that no more than two weeks ago I was an inarticulate puddle of goo, worried to distraction that my dire financial straits would prevent me from running away to Ireland for five months. There they went- seven months of planning and research and fees paid, down the loo without the chance to say goodbye. Thankfully, I have marvelously understanding, compassionate parents, and after much tribulation we set to rights the derailed train of my hopes and dreams for second semester. It was not at all melodramatic.
And now I get to live HERE.
In exactly a month, if all goes as planned, I will be moving into my new digs at Bachelor's Quay on the River Lee, a stone's throw from University College Cork, The Church of Saints Peter and Paul, and what is reputed to be a fairly inexpensive purveyor of foodstuffs.
I will be going to IRELAND, with Enya, and the Whales, and redheaded sailors named Brendan.
With that I leave you, to go sort out loan-type things and final-exam-type things.
