Hi y’all! The last few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind of activities that we are all trying to fit in before we all head back home across the pond – I’ve barely had a minute to think. I tried to post some pictures last week, but I’m having trouble with the photo-uploader, so hopefully I’ll get that sorted. Last Wednesday I went on a solo day-trip to Dublin, which was disastrous for many reasons – I want to make a separate post about that because I’ve been wanting to talk about mental health and studying abroad on this blog for a while now. Yesterday, my roommate and I went to the Aran Islands and rented bikes. It was so beautiful and so much fun (the first sun we’ve seen in a while here). I took lots of picture and sunburned only my face and the back of my hands because I was wearing a sweatshirt and have a lovely bruise on my arm from being bit by an over-enthusiastic horse who was determined that I had a treat for him. I go home (like, Home home – how surreal) on Sunday and I just feel like I’m running out of time in all aspects, especially with things that I wanted to do with this blog. I am working on my big final project, which will be all about the Marriage Equality referendum, so that will be made more coherent and less rant-y and posted as soon as possible. All of us IFSA-Butler Galway students are planning a potluck at one of our apartments today, of which my contribution is going to be sticky cinnamon buns, so I’m off to go do that now. Aggghhhh!!!
One of my friends here is asking us all to write a memory or a letter or whatever we want in a journal she is passing around, so I’m going to share what I wrote so I have something more substantial to leave you with for now. It’s just a ridiculously cheesy little “aesthetic poem”.
Melting gelato running down your fingers, bare feet in the grass, pop music you pretend not to like, inside jokes, heart-stopping mountain views, dancing with strangers, laughter muffled into a pillow, no hot water past 3 p.m. (15:00), rainbows, horses gently taking carrots out of your hand, listening to your Ipod on public transportation, tea that’s gone cold, graffiti, avoiding the library at all costs, broken umbrellas, all traffic stopping at the first sign of snow, getting directions from the locals, wool sweaters against your skin, the musty smell of old books, every song that’s ever made you feel like you could rule the world, spotty wifi, houses painted all different colors, romantic languages, doors slammed by the wind, the burn in your chest when you hold your breath for a long time, weathered hands, callouses, freckles, place names in Irish written on road signs before their English names, silver rings, days spent in bed reading, the happy laughter of small children, ridiculously bumpy bus rides, stealing an extra scone off the plate, clothes out of the washing machine that never seems to really dry, your abs hurting in the morning from laughing and dancing so hard the night before, Galway.