Written Friday, August 24th - 7:45am
About 15 minutes ago I boarded the eastbound train for Philadelphia. This is the first part of my long journey to Ireland. I’m stopping in Philly for a few days to visit Christopher and celebrate our one-year a little early. I’ll be in Philadelphia until Tuesday evening, when I will take the Regional Rail to Newark, NJ International Airport. My flight takes off (supposedly) at 7:00pm and I should be in Dublin by 7:00am. Thank goodness I don’t have any connecting flights. Flying is complicated enough anymore without having to get on and off planes at the right time (and of course your first flight lands late and your connecting flight is always the only one that takes off on-time). I managed to pack just about everything, got halfway to Pittsburgh and realized that I had forgotten my passport, which is safely in our filing cabinet. My mom is being very sweet and priority over-nighting it to Christopher’s apartment.
I’ve been reading the Lonely Planet travel books that my mom bought me and I think by the time my plane hits the runway, I will as confident and ready as I’ll every be. Of course, things are simpler due to the fact that I’m going to an English-speaking country. All I have to get used to is the accent and then never-ending use of slang. You think people in the States speak a different language outside of a class or conference room, but we are nothing compared to the Irish, and English for that matter. Not only is there Gaelic mixed in everyday conversation, but on top of that is the rhyming slang (it would even baffle the clever writers of The Gilmore Girls). I’ve only really picked up a few phrases myself. I remember apples and pears – up the stairs and Johnny Rocket – pocket. It’s a really amusing way to say things, but it is damn confusing for an outsider.
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