(no subject)

A year ago today, two young American women bought two tickets for a train. The destination of the train was printed clearly on their tickets: "Sandycove." Platform 8 of the Connolly Station in Dublin was where they waited, reading a book over each other's shoulders. Just as Doyler was nowhere to be found when it was announced he had won his scholarship, a train pulled up and took them away; to Sandycove; to the Forty Foot. It was breezy and cloudy, to begin with. Rounding the bend that led up to the Martello Tower, there was a sign and immediately following, a swimming cove. It said "Forty Foot: Gentlemen's Bathing Place." On the very top of a wall, there was a similar sign, an older sign, a sign made by the Sandycove Bathers Association. And then there were rocks, and water, and waves, and Howth, in the background. And then there was Ballygihen Avenue, Glasthule Road, Adelaide Road, a lunch at a pub on the corner of Adelaide Road, and sunshine, and light-colored rocks, and a nap on MacMurrough's perch, all green grass and view of the sea. And a book, and a friend, and a few cigarettes. And Dun Laoghaire, with its three spires, and a sunset.

So,

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(no subject)

I can't be totally sure, but I think somebody just said 'hello' to my cleavage. When I looked up to see the guy staring down my shirt, he mumbled 'sorry' and took off pretty quickly. I was left blinking after him. I mean, this is probably the first time that my boobs got the honor of being addressed before me. Should I get them their own social security number and insure them? Should I take a passport photo for them? I wonder if I can send them to England ahead of me...

In other news, because I'm in a good mood (I AM DONE FOR THE DAY AND IT'S NOT EVEN FOUR YET!), I'm plagiarizing lots of other people and saying...

I want everyone who reads this to ask me 3 questions, no more, no less.

Ask me anything you want.

Then I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends (including myself) to ask you anything.

Yeah, so...go wild. I am about to take off. I think I hear a nap calling me... its song is beautiful and, like a human to a siren, I am drawn to it without inhibition... Ahhh... It sings so prettily...

Oh, P.S. - So, I didn't have the highest grade in the class, I had the second highest (which, in a class of 70-80 people is pretty good, too) and a certain someone stopped being a butt about it and congratulated me. Also said "now you can feel smarter than me, isn't that good?" Yes, honey, now shut up.