Tuesday, August 5, 2008
fair play to you, Dublin
Here I am, sitting at work, wearing a completely different outfit from what I headed out the door with this morning. Ahhhh the perks of working with an apparel company. It doesn't make too much of a difference-- the original ensemble is virtually unrecognizable anyway.
What?! So NOT last season, my friends. We're talking Dublin Rainy Day style right now. And it's all the (out)rage, while also being a timeless classic...It favors darker hues and the cat out of the shower look, complete with perplexed expression as if one wished to ask, " Who the HELL poured the Liffey into my shoes?!"
Let's just say that any nostalgia I was feeling for Dublin has almost all been LITERALLY washed away...but not completely. Rain like toothpicks left in the freezer overnight(s), that seemed to miss the memo that rain FALLS, not flies in your face.
And yet, I don't know how, but on my 40 minute trek to work this morning dodging cars racing too close to the edge through deep puddles...I found myself MISSING it all.
We are such a strange species, we humans. Not to dive into the deep waters of this perennial question, the favored child of every 60 ton # too many psychoanalysis book exploring the smithy of humanity's soul or anything-- and not to make too many horrible aqua-related puns along the way-- but seriously: must we always begin to love more and learn more through the negative? Is it always in the absence of, the stripping away, the denial and the disappearance of whatever we are to be parted from...that we come to treasure it more? More than we had ever treasured it during the days and weeks and months before? Does the hole which we suddenly find ourselves left with create a rupture which breaks the straight line of our life's horizon and let us dig deeper?
Are the life-giving waters (no pun intended) indeed taken for granted, Mr. Hendrix?
I've got many thoughts on my time here in Dublin which, in an incredibly different way, was just as challenging, if not more at times, than China. Very unexpected. But so worthwhile. I will miss the friends that I made, the long walks all over the city, the hours spent on the terrace of my building trying to salvage any appearance of a tan...But I must be honest: I don't think I found Dublin. I don't think I'm really any closer to understanding what this place is all about. And that is supremely confounding. I chose to dwell on the frustration of this for quite a good number of weeks, and I do regret that. But as I came to realize this and came to seriously learn a lot more about myself and how I want to live, who I want to be, the city became more beautiful than ever to me- and my friends, that is sayin' something because Dublin is one heck of a pretty city.
Just goes to show you that in order to be truly comfortable anywhere, one must first truly be comfortable with themselves.
Roll your eyes all you want! The value of the statement is not in the neatness of the cliche. The value of these DUH statements is definitely in the process of getting there. A wheel that I think everyone should get a chance to reinvent in their own way.
For now, back to wrappin' thinks up in the office.
Slainte, Dublin, and fair play to you.
bold as love,
z
What?! So NOT last season, my friends. We're talking Dublin Rainy Day style right now. And it's all the (out)rage, while also being a timeless classic...It favors darker hues and the cat out of the shower look, complete with perplexed expression as if one wished to ask, " Who the HELL poured the Liffey into my shoes?!"
Let's just say that any nostalgia I was feeling for Dublin has almost all been LITERALLY washed away...but not completely. Rain like toothpicks left in the freezer overnight(s), that seemed to miss the memo that rain FALLS, not flies in your face.
And yet, I don't know how, but on my 40 minute trek to work this morning dodging cars racing too close to the edge through deep puddles...I found myself MISSING it all.
We are such a strange species, we humans. Not to dive into the deep waters of this perennial question, the favored child of every 60 ton # too many psychoanalysis book exploring the smithy of humanity's soul or anything-- and not to make too many horrible aqua-related puns along the way-- but seriously: must we always begin to love more and learn more through the negative? Is it always in the absence of, the stripping away, the denial and the disappearance of whatever we are to be parted from...that we come to treasure it more? More than we had ever treasured it during the days and weeks and months before? Does the hole which we suddenly find ourselves left with create a rupture which breaks the straight line of our life's horizon and let us dig deeper?
Are the life-giving waters (no pun intended) indeed taken for granted, Mr. Hendrix?
I've got many thoughts on my time here in Dublin which, in an incredibly different way, was just as challenging, if not more at times, than China. Very unexpected. But so worthwhile. I will miss the friends that I made, the long walks all over the city, the hours spent on the terrace of my building trying to salvage any appearance of a tan...But I must be honest: I don't think I found Dublin. I don't think I'm really any closer to understanding what this place is all about. And that is supremely confounding. I chose to dwell on the frustration of this for quite a good number of weeks, and I do regret that. But as I came to realize this and came to seriously learn a lot more about myself and how I want to live, who I want to be, the city became more beautiful than ever to me- and my friends, that is sayin' something because Dublin is one heck of a pretty city.
Just goes to show you that in order to be truly comfortable anywhere, one must first truly be comfortable with themselves.
Roll your eyes all you want! The value of the statement is not in the neatness of the cliche. The value of these DUH statements is definitely in the process of getting there. A wheel that I think everyone should get a chance to reinvent in their own way.
For now, back to wrappin' thinks up in the office.
Slainte, Dublin, and fair play to you.
bold as love,
z
Sunday, August 3, 2008
FRUITS!
(of labor)
In other news, finding myself with just TWO DAYS left in Dublin after today...there is nothing short of zombie-esque disbelief occurring and suddenly, everything is being touched by the golden light of romantic nostalgia prematurely. In all honesty, Dublin is one heck of a cool town and I'm in love with its pedestrian-friendly layout-- absolutely my favorite thing about the place. But culturally speaking...it's really kind of like America, so not quite the cultural immersion I was expecting. However, this discovery in it of itself was worthwhile and sent me spinning towards thinking about the effects of the European Union in general, capitalism, nationalism and attitudes towards immigration in a country that used to be so much more about the emigration.
But I won't lie. Dublin had been supremely frustrating for the majority of the time. It was only in this past week that I was able to really feel settled and find any peace in the place. Valuable process that I can now in retrospect appreciate and grow from...Must be the mark of a masochist that I miss it so much already.
Speaking of masochism: listen to John Mayer's Slow Dancing In a Burning Room. So beautiful. So painful. Can't stop listening and wishing that I would stop.
I guess that'd describe Dublin for me a bit as well.
In other news, finding myself with just TWO DAYS left in Dublin after today...there is nothing short of zombie-esque disbelief occurring and suddenly, everything is being touched by the golden light of romantic nostalgia prematurely. In all honesty, Dublin is one heck of a cool town and I'm in love with its pedestrian-friendly layout-- absolutely my favorite thing about the place. But culturally speaking...it's really kind of like America, so not quite the cultural immersion I was expecting. However, this discovery in it of itself was worthwhile and sent me spinning towards thinking about the effects of the European Union in general, capitalism, nationalism and attitudes towards immigration in a country that used to be so much more about the emigration.
But I won't lie. Dublin had been supremely frustrating for the majority of the time. It was only in this past week that I was able to really feel settled and find any peace in the place. Valuable process that I can now in retrospect appreciate and grow from...Must be the mark of a masochist that I miss it so much already.
Speaking of masochism: listen to John Mayer's Slow Dancing In a Burning Room. So beautiful. So painful. Can't stop listening and wishing that I would stop.
I guess that'd describe Dublin for me a bit as well.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
even if it's just for the picture
For those of you who don't know this, I have a hilarious addiction to The New York Times. Currently at work but taking a brief lunch break and as is my ritual, quickly scouring through the headlines. The real trap is once I click on the link...and then on the side of the article, you have the 10 most emailed stories. Adieu, productivity, until tomorrow's lunch!
Click on the photo to get to the column written by John Tierney where he pummels down 10 modern-day myths.
Hopefully, he'll soon be demystifying the negative impacts of procrastination.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
we start for you a revolution
Miscellaneous Moments of the Past Week:
1)
I've never felt compelled to follow the comedy circuit too tightly. Until Mitch Hepberg, I couldn't name one stand-up comic I found brilliant and for whom I actually wanted to join the I-make-conversations-by-quoting-comedians-and-possibly-movies club (oh you know who you are, my friends, you know!).
None of this has really changed.
HOWEVER, Thursday night, Aine, Felicity and I went to check out Tommy Tiernan, one man Irish comedian who delivers in the style of your average saw-- with high engine power and a motor run by SASS, cutting down rainforests of people, establishments, human behavior, and everything else in its path.
Actually, minus moments of prepubescent boy crudeness, his comedy was really almost scientific...but maybe just to me. It's just that when good comedy comes along- really good one, which T^2 definitely delivered, you can get some seriously valuable insight into a culture. And still by my second month here frustratingly unable to tap into the elusive identity of Ireland, the night probably had me laughing just as much in relief as in raucous amusement.
Jokes included:
Making fun of the British, country people vs. Dubliners, sex (lots of sex), the Irish propensity to give you road directions based on superstition and landmarks like billy goats, and, inevitably, immigration into Ireland-- my favorite joke being that all these Polish newcomers, no rookies at coup d'etats, are one day going to be so tired of hearing the Irish complain about their governments that someday soon, they "start for you a revolution NOW".
2)
The 2 most common heckles I get while running:
1. RUN, FORREST, RUN!!!!!!!
2. Yeaaaaaah, Beijing Olympics!!!!!!!
3)
VoraciTee! Changes! More updates to come! WooooooooooooOoooooooooOooooOOOOOOO!!
4)
Last night, a very stony-faced man whose powers of facial expression seemed to have been anesthetized and in another life must have been a priest in the oldest and most stringent of Catholic traditions-- or an exorcist, so ready did he seem to win a stare-down competition with Lucifer himself-- told me with the utmost gravity that Obama MUST be the Anti-Christ. His reasoning? He's trying to please everyone and be everything to everyone-- OBVIOUSLY, temptation at its best.
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, this irascible character yelling Fire and Brimstone...was Irish. Whew, no vote for you, buddy. But think about it: that would make every politician, every single person running our government, either the Anti-Christ...or an aspiring one...?
Wow.
5)
I went on a roadtrip with some friends to the countryside. It was breathtaking... in between bouts of car nausea from winding country roads, big enough for one car, supposed to accommodate two, and you can never see comfortably around that next curve. The weather was beautiful. I stood at the edge of these 5 of 6 story cliffs, staring down the crashing waves of the Atlantic and the cries of seagulls! I climbed a tree near an old Abbey. I met an old Irish man who drew a smiley face in the foam of my Guinness. I then promptly lost all of these photos.
So it goes.
6)
Missing you all as if fondness came as dividends and the interest rate is great.
Cannot wait to be reunited in the fall.
Nightlife in Dublin has sorely lacked you. And therefore, I am not the biggest fan.
Take that, pub culture.
1)
I've never felt compelled to follow the comedy circuit too tightly. Until Mitch Hepberg, I couldn't name one stand-up comic I found brilliant and for whom I actually wanted to join the I-make-conversations-by-quoting-comedians-and-possibly-movies club (oh you know who you are, my friends, you know!).
None of this has really changed.
HOWEVER, Thursday night, Aine, Felicity and I went to check out Tommy Tiernan, one man Irish comedian who delivers in the style of your average saw-- with high engine power and a motor run by SASS, cutting down rainforests of people, establishments, human behavior, and everything else in its path.
Actually, minus moments of prepubescent boy crudeness, his comedy was really almost scientific...but maybe just to me. It's just that when good comedy comes along- really good one, which T^2 definitely delivered, you can get some seriously valuable insight into a culture. And still by my second month here frustratingly unable to tap into the elusive identity of Ireland, the night probably had me laughing just as much in relief as in raucous amusement.
Jokes included:
Making fun of the British, country people vs. Dubliners, sex (lots of sex), the Irish propensity to give you road directions based on superstition and landmarks like billy goats, and, inevitably, immigration into Ireland-- my favorite joke being that all these Polish newcomers, no rookies at coup d'etats, are one day going to be so tired of hearing the Irish complain about their governments that someday soon, they "start for you a revolution NOW".
2)
The 2 most common heckles I get while running:
1. RUN, FORREST, RUN!!!!!!!
2. Yeaaaaaah, Beijing Olympics!!!!!!!
3)
VoraciTee! Changes! More updates to come! WooooooooooooOoooooooooOooooOOOOOOO!!
4)
Last night, a very stony-faced man whose powers of facial expression seemed to have been anesthetized and in another life must have been a priest in the oldest and most stringent of Catholic traditions-- or an exorcist, so ready did he seem to win a stare-down competition with Lucifer himself-- told me with the utmost gravity that Obama MUST be the Anti-Christ. His reasoning? He's trying to please everyone and be everything to everyone-- OBVIOUSLY, temptation at its best.
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, this irascible character yelling Fire and Brimstone...was Irish. Whew, no vote for you, buddy. But think about it: that would make every politician, every single person running our government, either the Anti-Christ...or an aspiring one...?
Wow.
5)
I went on a roadtrip with some friends to the countryside. It was breathtaking... in between bouts of car nausea from winding country roads, big enough for one car, supposed to accommodate two, and you can never see comfortably around that next curve. The weather was beautiful. I stood at the edge of these 5 of 6 story cliffs, staring down the crashing waves of the Atlantic and the cries of seagulls! I climbed a tree near an old Abbey. I met an old Irish man who drew a smiley face in the foam of my Guinness. I then promptly lost all of these photos.
So it goes.
6)
Missing you all as if fondness came as dividends and the interest rate is great.
Cannot wait to be reunited in the fall.
Nightlife in Dublin has sorely lacked you. And therefore, I am not the biggest fan.
Take that, pub culture.
Monday, July 14, 2008
confessions of a jog-aholic
I haven't been this happy or this in love with Dublin since I first came over for Spring Break in March.
I wrote about how much I love running in my college application essay partially as a joke, but the fact that I risked matriculation for the sake of humor aside...it becomes clearer and clearer to me as time goes on that running is for real a serious part of my life. Okay...by my running, I might mean your walking, but I'll admit it: I'm kind of addicted.
Today was breaking point. I hadn't run in maybe three weeks. I had stopped because the last two times I did, I ended up where I still am today: with a cough that my boss said is more like a "bark".
You check on the back of cereal boxes and you listen to Irish radio and more often than not, there will be some type of commercial pressing you to "Get up, get out, get active" or something equally eloquently motivational. At first, I didn't think about it too much, but the more days that are washed away in cold rain and eroded with gnawing-at-yo-bones gusts of winds...the more I figure that yeah...going for a nice walk or run probably isn't too much on the mind for the denizens of, literally, the Land of Ire (meteorologically speaking at least). And that, children, is the story of how pub culture came to be.
But today, I found a few brave souls, a little battalion of fellow jogaholics, that I'll probably be seeing on the 8-9 circuit along the Liffey.
When traveling, the normal exercise of running is often replaced by the equally valuable exercise of giving up old routines and seeking new adventures. But of course, the other side of jumping into the unfamiliar and being exposed to new ideas is coming to understand even better who I am and what is most important to me: a good pair of running shoes and an open road... or relatively safe sidewalk.
I wrote about how much I love running in my college application essay partially as a joke, but the fact that I risked matriculation for the sake of humor aside...it becomes clearer and clearer to me as time goes on that running is for real a serious part of my life. Okay...by my running, I might mean your walking, but I'll admit it: I'm kind of addicted.
Today was breaking point. I hadn't run in maybe three weeks. I had stopped because the last two times I did, I ended up where I still am today: with a cough that my boss said is more like a "bark".
You check on the back of cereal boxes and you listen to Irish radio and more often than not, there will be some type of commercial pressing you to "Get up, get out, get active" or something equally eloquently motivational. At first, I didn't think about it too much, but the more days that are washed away in cold rain and eroded with gnawing-at-yo-bones gusts of winds...the more I figure that yeah...going for a nice walk or run probably isn't too much on the mind for the denizens of, literally, the Land of Ire (meteorologically speaking at least). And that, children, is the story of how pub culture came to be.
But today, I found a few brave souls, a little battalion of fellow jogaholics, that I'll probably be seeing on the 8-9 circuit along the Liffey.
When traveling, the normal exercise of running is often replaced by the equally valuable exercise of giving up old routines and seeking new adventures. But of course, the other side of jumping into the unfamiliar and being exposed to new ideas is coming to understand even better who I am and what is most important to me: a good pair of running shoes and an open road... or relatively safe sidewalk.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Eye <3 My City
nifty piece of work by the enigmatic Maser who basically IS Dublin graffiti
Friends, when the spotlight decides to shine, Dublin is ready to show off. So ready. After pluggin' in the hours at the 9-5, no way I was lettin' this first legit day of fine summer weather slip by and I embarked on a little photo explorventure.
mah neighborhoodz
swanz at St. Stephenz Green
Ok, that's just excessive, Dublin...the lurker on the right obviously agrees
And it was looking through the lens of the camera trying to find the peculiar and unique angles of this city today that I finally came to the eurekaha! moment.
Dublin might be quieter and calmer than the Bag Jigga Jagnormous...but it's not less challenging. The difference might actually be that I have to try harder to pick up on the nuances and be even more observative than in China.
It might not be a one hour commute on a labyrinth of public transportation, but that sounds like a pretty great task as well. :)
And hopefully, I'll get some cool shots to share while I'm at it.
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