Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Let's get acquainted...


History Lesson:

This is my third time living in the U.K.

My first crossing was all the way back in January of 1990 when I was a sophomore in college and going for the all important semester abroad in Wales. Not that Wales is the all important destination; I mean the going abroad part is the main thrust…well, never mind. You get my drift.

Ideally, I was hoping to get accepted into a program based in London which turned out to be full by the time I got around to sending out my application. But since I was only 20 years old and still fairly naïve in terms of world geography and political ideologies I settled for Wales because in my mind it was, “just another part of England.”

(Note to the kiddies: England and Wales are ENTIRELY different countries. Saying Wales is part of England is like saying New Mexico is part of Arizona or that cats are just a different breed of dog. Someday I will explain the whole political situation here in Northern Ireland… it’s too early to open that barrel of whiskey at this point. Having said that, opening a barrel of whiskey and talking about politics anywhere is ALWAYS a bad idea. That's a tip kids. Write it down. I'll wait).

Where was I?

Oh yeah, so Wales was my first extended stay in the UK which lasted six months and was ultimately responsible for my catching the dreaded infection that many, many unskilled English majors around the world are so vulnerable to: Bovine Scatology!

(Whoops, sorry. That’s the technical term for bullshit, which is another thing most English majors suffer from. Because we’re so pissed* off that the real world is simultaneously more and less fucked up than we thought it would be after reading all those John Irving novels in high school, we have to add our own little dramas here and there to make us more cosmopolitan. That and berets.)

No, the term I’m looking for is Wanderlust or “Itchy Feet” as they call it over here. And the worst thing about Itchy Feet is...

Oh! But look at the time!

So in conclusion, I have to say that living in Northern Ireland is pretty “bitchin” or “sweet” to use common American vernacular and I look forward to spilling my life story like a badly poured pint of Guinness over the course of this blog.

Until that time, Cheerio!

*Cultural note: Pissed in Northern Ireland terminology is a disgusting, vulgar way of saying “Schnockered” or "Shitfaced".

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