Time to say goodbye. Paesi che non ho mai...

Alriiiiight. This is my last blog entry. Do not cry. We can talk in person. Way better.

I think it wise to bring this blog to a close as my time in Ireland comes to a close. Karver and I talked about it, and while my life in Winston-Salem is super interesting, we decided that it is not quite blog-worthy material. I can see it now, "So today I went to the Pit because it was Japanese night and i heard they had origami sugar cookies..."

Anywho, time to relish the last foreseeable time that my life will be interesting enough for other people to read about.

On Monday I took my one and only exam -- History of Irish Thought (keep in mind I turned in six papers the week before). The actual test part, like actually answering the essay questions, was not bad at all, but the having to pay to get a bus to the exam site, the waiting for an hour and a half in the cold, then taking a bus back part was pretty bad. Not important, not important. What IS important is no more school until 2009.

My plans on Monday were to pack most of my things that night, then to take a bus to Belfast early Tuesday morning so I would be at my friend Hannah's house by Tuesday night. Everything went according to plan untillllllllll I missed the linking bus to Belfast. Not awesome.

What had happened was the bus driver was unsure as to where I was supposed to get off to get the linking bus to Belfast, but he was sure I should get on the bus because it was the only bus going up north. I got off the bus at a big station where I thought I heard I could get a linking bus to Belfast. When I asked the woman at the help desk, she stared at me blankly and told me I should have gotten off the bus about 40 minutes ago and that there were no more buses to Belfast that day. Sweet.

Buuuut she did tell me that I could take a bus to Ballyshannon, then take a bus to Enniskillen and take a bus from Enniskillen to Belfast in the morning. Soooo I waited for the next bus to Ballyshannon (where ever the heck that is). Then because it was raining and I had some time before my next bus, I decided to go into wee pub in Ballyshannon, as you do. So I walked out of the rain, looking fairly disheveled, and into the pub with my backpack and huge plaid satchel. There were five local men at the bar and there was a seventy-year-old bar tender behind the counter. When I walked in they all stared at me like I was from planet Zor and the room went dead silent. I ordered a half a pint of cider (the man gave me a whole pint, which I had to drink rather quickly before I went on the bus) and only when I was settled in the corner, bags down, book opened, did they resume talking. Such a weird experience.

So now after a kind of light-headed bus ride from Ballyshannon to Enniskillen, I am on my own to find a place to stay for the night. It's raining pretty hard, I have a heavy backpack, and a man at one of the bus stations told me that he would not "fancy a stay in Enniskillen" and that it was in "the rougher neck of the woods". Ok. Whatever. I knew that as soon as I found a bed and some food I would be fine. See, in the picture below, Enniskillen does not look that bad.
I had walked up and down the main street for a while, trying to stay in well light areas, and had not found a sign for a hotel or hostel -- enter low moment #3 of Ireland. The third low moment of my time abroad was when I was wearily waiting by a church in the Enniskillen rain to find a hostel for the night and nobody entering the church for a service would talk to me. The people at the church ignored me when I asked for help. I almost cried, not because I needed help that badly, but because of the hypocrisy of it all.

The first person I asked walking out of the Pharmacy was totally willing to help me out and pointed me in the direction of the best youth hostel. The hostel was really big and nice and inexpensive. When I walked in (still all disheveled I guess) the woman at the desk looked at me and said "I had a bad day too". She gave me a four person en-suite room all to myself.

Once I set my stuff down, dried off and made my bed, I walked about the city to find the open-late Chinese take-out place. Chicken chow mein and a book of Seamus Heaney poems made my night pretty ok. Then watching "Wedding Crashers" in the hostel lounge with 30 rugby players made my night actually pretty good.Ok, in the morning I caught an early bus to Belfast and Hannah and her dad picked me up at the station. yaaaaaaaay. Finally I am with my friend in her city!

Hannah and I had so much fun -- just a really good having no work, having no agenda, hangout time. My favorite. We went for lunch and coffee and desserts. We met up with Hannah's friends. We went thrift store shopping and to the big Belfast market. We ate with her family. We stayed up to watched the BBC show about Merlin the wizard. We laughed together. We went to Hannah's friend's Christmas party. We read the Christmas story out of the Message on the city bus. "The sheepherders returned at let loose, glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen."
Despite having to use pounds and its crazy traffic, Belfast is a good city with good people. I took the 8 hour bus ride back to Galway today with no problem. I went via Dublin instead of via the West coast like last time. I know how to get off at the Dublin bus station and get on a bus that says "to Galway". Much easier.
Right now I am in my apartment, with all of my apartment-mates gone home and 1/3 of my things left to pack. My friends, Karen and Shane, just visited to hug me goodbye. I just listened to all 5 of Sufjan's Christmas CDs. I am taking a taxi to the bus station at 7 AM to head to the US of A. I cannot wait to see my family and friends (that's probably you).

Tie up your boots
Jump off the ladder
Pack up your clothes
Nothing's the matter...
Chestnuts and fire
Holly and hay
Jesus and Mary
What a great day.
~Sufjan

Mission Semester Abroad, Galway 2008: Complete.
It's been fun.
Thanks for listening.

salamanca. safety. snow.

I wish the world was flat like the old days and I could travel just by folding the map. No more airplanes or speed trains or freeways. There'd be no distance that could hold us back. Deathcab.

Let's talk. I got back from Salamanca, Spain at 3.30 AM on, I guess what is still today. I will tell you tomorrow if all of the painful traveling was worth it. I kinda think it totally was. Maybe as the realization of how much fun I had sets in the memories of the traveling will fade and become an unimportant recollection.

On Monday night I did not sleep because I was writing a history paper. On Tuesday at 8 PM after I finished said paper, I slid it under the history secretary's door and walked home. I made dinner, packed things for Spain, and said goodbye to my flatmate who was going home for Christmas. At 1.45 AM I walked downtown to the bus station. At 5.30 AM I arrived at the Dublin airport for my 7.30 AM flight. I landed at 11 Madrid time. Then after lots of walking and two metro stops later I figured out how to get on a 1 pm bus to Salamanca, putting me there at 3.30 PM.

I must give a special thanks to Kelsey Paul for sending me very detailed metro and bus instructions, without which I may have never made it. I would also like to give a special thanks to Austin Jones who helped 48-hours-of-no-sleep-Molly back from the bus station, without which I may have never made it. I would also like to give a special thanks to Susan Walters, who was really excited to see me...that just made me feel good.

So at this point I am in Salamanca. The city pretty sweet -- very Spanish in my mind, but then again, it is the only Spanish city I have seen. The buildings and walls are made of this tan/golden stone and there are a good number of big old churches. The streets are cobblestone and there is an awesome big plaza (more on the plaza later). The summary of the trip is that it was great to be with friends in the place they have been living all semester. We hung out in gift shops, in restaurants, in the Wake student centro, in bars, in the plaza, on a bridge (is that loitering?), and in the cathedral. It was freezing all week. I wore the toboggan Luda made me and bought some guantes.

The lovely Susan Edwards of Winston-Salem, North Carolina and Mount Tabor High School is studying through the Wake program in Salamanca, so we got to catch up. What fun. What a small world. She is still the same great gal as she was in Senor Boyst's class.

On Wednesday night the Wake program was having a final dinner and Susan Walters checked with a prof to see if I could come. She said I could. So I went. And everyone was like -- who the heck is this girl and do how do I not know someone in our program after 4 months? It was fun, plus tapas are delicious.

Ok, now for the best story. There is an event in Salamanca called Nocheviaje. It is basically a huge early New Year's party for the students in Salamanca before they go home for Christmas. It. Was. Unreal. There were 30,000 students in the plaza. You might say -- Molly, that seems like a lot of crazy college students to be in one place at one time. And I might say -- yes, yes it was. I do not believe that I have been on an emotional roller coaster as steep and curvy as Nocheviaje in my whole life.

Five of us, Kelsey, Austin, Susan, and Susan's roommate, Andrea headed toward the plaza a few minutes before midnight. Within a couple of minutes we found ourselves in the huge jumping crowd. I believe I thought something like "Ha, ha! This is crazy!". After about two minutes of being at the mercy of the crowd my thoughts suddenly switched to "No ha ha. This is not good at all." We all looked at each other, well not Andrea because she got pulled away, but the four of us made eye contact and it was clear we were all in self-preservation mode. After hand/shoulder holding, a punch in the face, a crushed water bottle, hand signals, lots of pushing and squeezing through, and a meeting place, the five of us made it out. It was one of most insane times of my life.

Because I care about you, dear reader, and think that getting crushed in a crowd would be a horrible way to go out, here are some tips if your find yourself in a similar mob situation. An excerpt from an article entitled Large Crowd Safely (you will notice that my friends and I employed some of these potentially life-saving tactics):

"Panicked crowds move fast and release an incredible amount of energy, usually compared to the energy generated by a running train: once a crowd gets moving it is very hard to stop, and the flow of people could literally sweep you off your feet.
So, if you find yourself in the middle of a moving crowd do not fight against the pressure, stand still or sit down, because you could easily get trampled.
Do not move against the crown; instead, move in the same direction of the crowd, take advantage of any space that may open up to move sideways to the crowd movement where the flow is weaker.

If you fall, get up quickly. If you cannot get up because you are injured, get someone to pull you back up.

Because the noise level in a crowd could be too loud for shouting to be effective, use gestures to communicate to each other.

Grab your friend's hand or shoulder to remain together. Alternatively, decide on a gathering point where you will meet and account for each other, should you get separated.
The worst scenario is to be pushed by the crowd against an immovable object. Try to stay away from walls, fences or barricades, as the crowd pressure can build up rapidly.

If you fall and cannot get up, keep moving by crawling in the same direction of the crowd, or if that is not possible, then cover your head with your arms and curl up into the fetal position."

The rest of the trip was grand as ever. Being abroad is real fun. Friends are real fun. Traveling back was not as awesome. It was similar to the way there except add 30 minutes of walking to the Salamanca bus station in freezing rain, an extra hour on a Spanish bus due to snow (see picture above), an extra 30 minutes helping a young lady from Greece who was crying because she thought she had missed her flight (we ran to the check in place and she just made it), a Spanish couple making-out beside me the whole time on the plane (never ok, but especially when you are elbowing me in the head, sir), and three hours waiting for the next bus to Galway. I did shell out the seven euro to take a taxi back from the bus station at 3.30 AM. That was for you, mom.

Here is a picture of the same sculpture found in the first picture of this blog entry. The first picture was taken Wednesday night in the plaza in Salamanca. This picture was taken on Saturday in the Madrid airport. I turned around after hugging the Grecian girl and there it was. Interesting that a two-ton metal bust has such an easy time traveling traveling Spain. It seems to mock me.
Closings thoughts:
-My Skype isn't working -- bummer. I will have to wait to talk to people in person.
-It smells like pumpkin muffins with raisins in my room for some reason and I want to be home.
-I have an exam tomorrow morning on the History of Irish Thought. Yikes. I have to take a bus to get to the exam site.
-I got my hair cut pretty short in Salamanca. It cost 14 euro. I know mom, just because it's cheap doesn't mean it's a good deal.
-Seriously, why does it smell like muffins?
-Just when I was loosing faith in humanity while traveling (post plane PDA couple), I saw a crying grandmother throw down her bags and run to her special granddaughter who screamed with excitement and jumped into her arms.

We can walk out after dark
Because it's Christmas time
Colored lights glow from the park
Because it's Christmas time
And the bells on the reindeer sled say
It's Christmas time
And the quilts on the back of the bed say
It's Christmas time
-Sufjan

in the name of love.

If you scroll back to a few posts ago, where I gave you photographic representations about things I was thinking about, you will be able to scroll to the picture of my friend Elisabeth (she is in the black and war paint).

I bring this up for two reasons. 1. she was here this weekend and it was unbelievable. 2. you will be able to see how many other pictures you had to scroll past in that post -- meaning I have done a lot of stuff and my time here is almost up (insert yell of excitement for coming home / fear of not being able to adjust to normal life... however you think that might sound).

Elisabeth Elliott, friend from Wake Forest and Camp DeSoto, all around classy lady, and referenced in the paragraph above, came to see me in Galway this weekend. She shimmied on over on Thursday night from Granada, Spain, where she is estudiaring for the semester.

I am still trying to process and verbalize (or type-a-lize in this case) how it was for her to be here this weekend. It was just so good. I was saying to her that I am glad that she came at the very end of the semester because I might have abandoned ship had she come earlier. And by ship I mean Ireland. Don't get me wrong, I have loved it here and have met some wonderful friends. BUT being with Elisabeth, I was just so relaxed and felt understood. We both know what it is like to be from the South, from Wake Forest, from Camp DeSoto and to be away from it all by ourselves for four months. We understand each other and love each other and had so much fun.
Ok, sappiness aside, as far as our agenda went for this weekend -- nothing too crazy went down. We hung out in my apartment, on the streets of Galway, in a Cathedral, in the market, in a cafe, in bookstores, at the university, in pubs, at a bus station, at a friend's house, and in a really romantic restaurant. We ate a lot of food, we listened to a lot of music. We laughed a lot.

On Saturday during the day she went on a bus tour of the Cliffs with her friend from home, who happened to be in Galway at the same time (rando), while i worked on a paper (blah). And on Saturday night we went to my friends' house for a Christmas party where we had mulled pies and minced wine... wait, is that right? The bus we were waiting for to get to the party decided not to come. We were very cold. But singing Bono at the bus stop at least warmed our spirits. We caught the next bus. The party was fun. Here is a picture of us there taken by Hannah. Elisabeth left this morning. Now (after I finish this blog, now) I am writing a really painful history paper so I can turn it in on Tuesday and head to Spain on Wednesday. The life I lead. History papers are painful, but are bearable when cushioned by a visit from a friend and a trip to Spain on either side.

I am going to Salamanca, Spain for three days and will visit my friends Kelsey, Austin, and Susan. I will be there on their last days in Spain, so things could be crazy. I am staying at a pretty sweet hostel that Elisabeth was kind enough to call and book for me while she was here. Let's just say that after studying in Spain for a semester, her Spanish is stronger than mine, go figure.

A heads up for why you may never see me again -- getting there and away from Salamanca might be a little challenging. Let me just say that I have a few crazy flight times, a few long bus rides, an ornery cellphone, and do not speak Spanish. We will roll the dice on this one. Fingers crossed. Where is Scooch Roobs to help his family in Spanish-speaking countries when you need him? (ps - cousin reunion in less than 2 weeks!!!!).

Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name

It is freezing here -- I skated to the library.
Here are the complete photo albums, as promised.
Now back to papers. blah.

one
two
three

What Larks.

I am typing this blog in my bed, thanks to the extra long internet cord Karver brought me over from the States. Did you know, young readers, that some people in the late 90s and early 00s did not have wireless internet on their college campuses and thus used really long internet cords as to move about their dorms? Anywho, while I am in bed blogging thanks to my extra-long cord, Kar, Em and Greg are in the air headed back to the land of red, white and blue ('merica, love it or leave it).

We had so much fun. Why don't I tell you about it?

Karver came into Galway Tuesday at noon. After a blissful reuniting in the form of a back-pack hug in the town square, we ate some lunch in a little Galway pub and got on a bus for a town two hours north of Galway called Westport.

The town is, as Sally Dunlap would say, cutesy-tootsy. It has a river running through the middle of it, several little bridges and lots of charming shops and pubs. Our first day in Westport was not too crazy because it gets dark at around 4 pm and because Kar had been traveling all day. We gave ourself a guided walking tour and tried to figure out how to trespass into what we thought was a castle. We stopped in the public library instead of the castle and then had dinner in a pub (Kar went Ireland style -- fish and chips and a Guinness). We headed back to the hostel with big plans to take a nap and then rally and go out to a pub. We failed to rally. We slept the night away. And an old man a few beds over boofed the night away.

Maybe it was for the best that we had like 14 hours of sleep that night because the next day involved more cardiovascular exercise than I ever hope to do in one day again. I don't know what I was thinking when I planned our adventure. Maybe I was just planning things that I knew my brother would enjoy and forgot to factor myslef into the equation. Or maybe I was temporarily unable to distinguish how athletic I wish I was to how athletic I am am in reality. I don't know. Regardless, we rented bikes, biked to a mountain, climbed it, then biked back. Yeah. Ummm....
It ended up being really fun and did not even cry. To Karver, the cardio was no problem, he probably could have kayaked the river afterwards. We biked along the coast, until we made it to Croagh Patrick. It's a pretty famous mountain in Ireland. It's where St. Patrick "supposebly" drove out all of the snakes from Ireland. People take pilgrimages there and walk the mountain seven times barefooted. Karver and I did not even make it all the way up with our shoes on.

The views of the ocean, the towns, the mountains, the fields and islands from Croagh Patrick were some of Ireland's finest. As we approached the top of the mountain it began to get intensely windy and rainy (as it does in high altitudes in late November Ireland) so we headed down to have a cup of tea and bike back. I almost died on the bike ride back.
We ended our time in Westport with a night of style -- a few dark pints, a fireplace, dim pub with old people, a lute, and two accordions (no worries, we were not the ones playing the accordions). After another night in the old mill house hostel with Boofy McBoofster we woke up and ran (literally) to catch a bus back to Galway so we could meet Greg and Emily in Galway.

It was so exciting to see Em and Greg! After another backpack-hugging reuniting in the square, we talked over plans for our next few days-o-fun. Karver had researched and was an advocate for renting a car for a day. We ended up doing it and it ended up being a great idea... keep reading for more details about Karver and Greg driving on the left side of the road.

Ok, time with Greg and Em was divided up between three (or as the Irish would say, "tree") locations -- Galway, Connemara, and Dublin (oh, and there was a forth semi-spontaneous location that you will read about later... more incentive to keep reading...).

On Thursday we had lunch at a cool pub and talked about how we wished Anna were with us (see picture below). Then we did your basic Molly-guided Galway tour, including the university, the downtown, some old churches, a walk along the river, my apartment, and much witty, yet surprisingly uninformative commentary on each location. That night we had your classic Thanksgiving meal -- Asian fusion in Ireland. The food was really, really delish and was ever-so-kindly sponsored by Dad (THANKS!). We ended the night with a pint and live music. It was your classic Irish folk music -- you know a little Van Morrison, a little Bob Marley. Friday was the day of driving around and exploring a beautiful region in Galway County called Connemara. This, as Karver would say, was OW-some. Our trusty drivers, Greg and Karver, took us all around the bays, the mountains, the rocks, and the mist. It was a really good call to rent a car so we could hop whenever for a photo-op, a pint, a picnic or a potty break. Our drivers were on top of it. If the worse thing to happen in a day of driving on the other side of the road is Karver rocking the curb pretty hard several times, then I call it a success. To be fair, Kar did redeem himself with a sweet parallel parking job. Ask him to do the parallel parking victory dance for you the next time you see him.First, we explored around an old castle that was closed for the off season. Karver would have totally jumped the fence if a man wasn't working on the castle. Greg went under the bridge like the troll bill goat gruff. Emily and I wondered how we were got so lucky to be related to people so awesome. Below is a picture of them "storming the castle". Then we drove through some more rad landscape and we stopped at a place called Kylemore Abbey. I'll spare you the history and just say that nuns live there now and it is a girl's baording school. Greg and Emily are gonna send their children there. Tuition is probably pretty inexpensive (see picture below).We went to the little chapel past the abbey. It had lots of kinds on marble in it and was pretty. It made me think that I might want to be a nun, but then I thought that liking a chapel by a lake and a mountain with pretty marble is probably the wrong motivation to become a sister. Speaking of sister, below is a picture of Em and me being cute in front of the chapel door, we can't help it. Anna, we will find a cute three sister picture opportunity during Christmas time -- maybe in my bunk bed?? Ok, I might get the last part of the Connemara trip out of order. All of it was so fun and beautiful that it is kind of a blur. Fam, feel free to straighten me out in comments or whatever. All I know is that we were in the town of Clifdon at some point, we drove some more, there were lots of rocks, sheep do not like to be approached, we went to Dog something beach and it was shweeeet (y'all, what was it called? All I remember is that it had "dog" in the name yet no dogs were allowed on the beach because they would scare the sheep), Greg and Karver played darts at some point, Emily and I went down a zip line on a playground by the water at some time or another, there was a bit of freezing rain, we had a picnic with in an empty national park parking lot with some gutsy birds, and we made it home having made some plans for the morning . So the trip probably already seems pretty crazy to you readers out there. Let me tell you. Hold onto your hats because we have an extra can of crazy stored in the back of the pantry and we just found a can opener. As previously stated, we rented a car for twenty-four hours. MEANING that we did not have to turn it in until morning Saturday at 9:30. MEANING that we had enough time for another road trip on Saturday morning.

Over dinner in Galway on Friday night we devised the plan of how we would get up at 5:30, drive an hour and a half to the Cliffs of Moher, see them just as the sun was rising, drive the hour and a half back (this time in daylight), drop Emily off in time to tell Mary in the bed and breakfast that they wanted the full Irish breakfast (this part was very important to Karver), fill up the car with gas, return the car by 9:30, I would go to the market while they were eating to get good for the trip to Dublin (and hummus for myself -- obvi), then we would meet at the bus station in time for the 10:30 bus to Dublin.

All of this somehow happened. Some may call it a miracle, others may call it luck, other may chalk it up to excellent planning. The world may never know. Below is what the Cliffs of Moher look like at sunrise, in case you were wondering.
This blog entry is getting embarrassingly long, so I will speed through our time in Dublin (we sped through our time Dublin in real life, so that works out nicely). Here part of a conversation that took place on the four hour bus ride from Galway to Dublin:

Emily: Karver, you can use my Sudoku book if you want.
Karver: Cool, so you don't mind me dominating all of the hard ones?
(later there were all sorts of crossed out numbers and scribbles all over the "challenger" puzzle page.)

We checked into our hotel. The hotel was very purple and looked like something from Alice in Wonderland. Needless to say, I loved it. I will tell you more about out sleeping situation later. We walked Trinity College and a park. It was cold. We walked to the Old Jameson Whiskey distillery. The distillery was very bling bling and we went on a guided tour to learn about the history and process of making one of the world's most famous and smoothest whiskeys. We had some Whiskey at the end of the tour. I would really love to try a Jameson hot chocolate sometime -- maybe a Christmas treat? Below is a classic couples' shot.
For dinner we went to Greg and Emily's friend's apartment for a Thanksgiving party. Lauren and John had about thirty friends, both American and Irish, over to celebrate. They were great hosts and we had so much fun talking with folks. This is crazy -- the speaker from the CU conference that I went to is the interim pastor at Lauren and John's church and was at the party. It was cool to see him again and great to talk to him. Small world! I believe we had some more small world connections from that dinner party -- you'll have to ask the various sibs about that.

We caught a lift back to the purple hotel with some nice people from the party (all four of us in the back of a little car -- nothing that Boltons haven't experienced before). When we got back to our room we tried various ways to figure out how four people were going to sleep in a hotel with only three single beds in it. Below is a picture of one solution we came up with.
This morning Kar, Em, and Greg caught a bus to the Dublin airport to fly home and I hopped on a bus back to Galway. I can't speak for my bros and sis, but I myself personally had lots and lots of fun.

PS: Once I create online photo albums of this trip I will post the link on the blog for your viewing pleasure.

PS for my family members: As to prevent shock when we gloriously reunite in the Charlotte (or is it Raleigh?) airport on December 20th, I would like to inform y'all that I have the world's tiniest stud in my left nostril. Karver said that he was going to start a blog entirely dedicated to my nose stud if I did not mention it on my blog. So I have mentioned it. Just to let you know, I will take it out if it could possibly hinder me in something like a job interview and I will not have it for my whole life. Feel free to email me any questions or concerns. Love you guys a lot and cannot wait until that reuniting takes place!

ALSO -- shout out to the Reas and their advetures! Cannot WAIT to hear about what larks. Or should I say -- que larquos.

things that i love.

Paste Magazine.
Anathallo.
Sufjan Stevens.
Good reviews in Paste Magazine about Anathallo and Sufjan Stevens.

Read it here.

Mind, the Gap?

If you happened to read my previous blog, where I gave you insight into my mind, here is the follow-up blog where I will actually be giving you information about reality. I have also interspersed some original haikus, as if you needed more motivation to keep reading...

Murder Mystery Dinner

I had smoked salmon for the first time. It is delish. The box that the murder mystery came in said 18 and up. As the night progressed we understood why. It was a really fun night. I was neither the murderer or the person smart enough to solve the crime...

I shot the sheriff

but I did not kill the boss
with a wine bottle.

Northern Ireland Trip

I went on an extended weekend exertion organized by my study abroad program. A bunch of different students from different Irish Universities who study through the University of Bulter comprised the gang. It was rad because mostly everything was all set up for us -- transportation, tour guides, meals, accommodations. It was nice to be looked after for a bit. We stayed in Belfast, but visited Derry and the countryside of Northern Ireland, too.

We saw a place called Giant's Causeway, which is this insane rock formation made by a volcano 60 millions years ago. It basically looks like tons of stacks of hexagons going out to sea. It is so crazy. Anna Bolton does not believe that it is real. Also, it was so windy that I thought I was gonna have to hold on to one of the hexagons for dear life to keep from flying away. Luda would be gone for sure. A Giant's Causeway

or a giant made up story
for eager tourists?

Above is a picture of a really sweet castle that we visited. Another day, another awesome Irish castle.

Above is a view from one of the windows in said awesome castle. Apparently, during a routine banquet the kitchen floor fell through and all of the food and servants went plummeting into the sea. That's a long way down. Yikes.

Even more interesting than weirdo shaped rocks and faulty castle floors was learning more about "The Troubles". The Troubles refers to recent and violent political and social strife in Northern Ireland. There is a lot of information and are many sad details about the situation, so I suggest that you look up the info yourself, instead of having me try to summarize what I understand of it.

Before exploring Belfast, we got a tour of the city of Derry and its walls. Derry is where Bloody Sunday took place.

In Belfast we went on what is known as a "black cab" tour, where the driver takes you around to important spots relating to The Troubles. Below is a picture of Corrine, Sarah, and Patty, our cab driver/tour guide. We saw walls and gates dividing Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods, memorials for those killed, remains of burned down buildings, but most famously, we saw murals. Below is one of the most famous murals. It is painted on the side of a Protestant housing development. The gun, like Mona Lisa's eyes, follows you wherever you go.

Derry walls, murals,
sidewalks memorials.
How long is too long?

On Saturday we had a free day to explore Belfast, so some friends and I went on the mighty Belfast Wheel. We thought about opting for the luxury car on the wheel, where you can ride for half an hour amongst some leather seats, a glass floor, a dvd player, and champagne. We took the poor man's pod in the end, but we did sing songs. So that was awesome.

London, Round II.
I returned from London tonight (Tues, Nov 18), after leaving yesterday morning (Mon, Nov 17) . Maybe this Haiku will help to summarize my travels:

Run, bus, airplane, run,
bus, metro, metro, metro,
bus, airplane, bus, walk.

Here's the thing, I can't even complain about my somewhat insane travel schedule because the trip was so sweet and 100% worth it. Corrine could not come, which was sad, but it did allowed me to be kinda impressed with my traveling solo skills.

Ok, yadda yadda, I made it to London and met the wonderful Cori Melton at a Starbucks in Liverpool Station at the time I said I would meet her (yeah, that's right, I made it somewhere on time and without getting lost). Then Cori and I hung out until the main event aka the concert.

Kyle, Cori's Whirl House housemate (apparently, it's "Whorrell House", but details, details) came along too and we met Kendra at the show. Here is a picture of us gals taken by Kyle.

Some people (Anna, Emily, Mom...) may recall November 17th of last year. Let me just say that I am not usually a crier, but there may or may not have been some birthday tears at a football game. The only reason I bring up that somewhat painful memory is to contrast this birthday with it. Insert Haiku.

Twenty-first birthday.
Tunes poured out instead tears.
Thanks Anathallo.

Y'all, the concert was sweet. I was in London. I was with good people. There were blue twinkle lights. Kendra bought me a pint of Guinness. The opening band was good, which rarely happens in such small venues. All of that would really have been enough for me.

BUT also, Anathallo played a fantastic show. Which included my favorite songs of theirs. We got a chance to talk them for a while after the show and got to get their new CD a day early. Matt, from the band was nice enough to write "Happy, happy birthday, I can't believe you chose to spend it with us" on the poster that came with the CD. I was also able ask Jamie, a band member, about the album artwork and some lyrics. I love talking about music, art, and lyrics always, but it's even more awesome when it's with the actual artist.

Last night I went to sleep on Kendra's floor feeling like I got some my favorite things for my birthday -- adventure, friends, and music... and I didn't even have to cry.

Today was a day of sight-seeing Molly-style (free and random). Kenj and Cori had work and class, so I was let loose on my own until I had to head to the airport. I walked around, got a baguette at a place where Kendra recommended, walked around some more, figured out the tube, had a donut and talked to the Krispy Kreme employees for an hour (see picture below of Curtis and Catalina. Curtis put the hat on just for the picture), went to a crazy/cool Museum that Cori recommended, walked around, sat in a park and wrote haikus, figured out the tube again, spent the rest of my pounds on Christmas presents for friends in Liverpool station, then caught the bus to the airport. I got back to Galway at around 10 pm. I am tired.

Friends from Krispy Kreme
can provide conversation
and a taste of home.

Thoughts on traveling alone
I have found that when ridiculous things happen to me when traveling alone, I have been going through these situations as if they are normal. This is because I have no one to exchange "can you believe the ridiculousnesses of this situation?" eye contact with.

Some examples of times when I would have loved to have made that eye contact:
- getting asked on a date by a Frenchman in the Krispy Kreme
- not being able to figure out how to open a door and having a little old lady help me
- getting frisked for 10 minutes in the airport (they check everywhere btw)

Perks of traveling alone:
Poems and prayers
are found in parks, tubes, hotels,
airport terminals.

The Mind of Molly

Things are getting a little crazy over here and I figure in order to appease the increasing demands for my blog (no one has actually voiced a desire for more updates or anything, I can just sense it) I will give my readers visuals to represent the complex workings of my mind. So if I am unable to update as frequently as you might desire feel free to re-glance at these photos and update yourself on myself.

I am going to a murder mystery dinner tonight. My friend, Josh, is my husband and we are the managers of a country club where one of our employees was found dead in the wine cellar.


I am leaving for Belfast tomorrow morning on a trip organized by my abroad program. I am really excited because apparently it is a really cool city.


I am leaving for London the day I return from Belfast to see on of my favorite bands, Anathallo, in concert. I am going with Corrine and will see Cori and Kendra in London.


The chocolate here is so good. I would even talk to this creepy man if he was willing to share his Dairy Milk bar.

I have a total of 6 extended essays and one major philosophy exam coming up right around the corner. I am kinda freaking out.

Karver is coming soon!


The Schutts are coming soon!


Wake, Camp DeSoto, and life friend Elisabeth Elliott (aka Eli) is coming from Spain to Galway in early December. Yesss.


If I can get those dern extended essays done and can still manage to be a shred of a person, I might see if I can hop on over to España in December. Wishful thinking -- we'll see if i will be able to carp the diem.

Sufjan -- what are you doing here??


All of the things above are really fun (minus work) but I am also super super pumped about seeing the family in Winston at Christmas time. What a fun thing to come home to!

If the wind cuts my flesh, does that mean wind is sarcastic?

My thoughts have been a little all over the place, so this blog is gonna be a little all over the place. Maybe the whipping wind is symbolic of us being at life's whim, blown about (you can decide if you think I am being serious or ridiculous with that last sentence. Choose whatever makes you like me more, but regardless, please notice the alliteration and internal slant rhymes used).

But seriously, the wind has been crazy lately. If you look out my window it looks like a helicopter is landing on the roof. Also, it hailed on Corrine, her brother, and me today. What the hail?

This weekend has been pretty chill. I have washed dishes, washed clothes (which cost 12 euro and involved running back and forth in the rain/hail/insane-o wind), skyped, cleaned my room, and done homework. Don't get too crazy, I know. I am just trying to get stuff in order before traveling, visitors, and exams.

Never fear, I have been having fun. My Belfast friends held a James Bond Casino Royal night on Wednesday, where we watched that movie to prepare for Thursday night when we dressed up and went to see the new James Bond movie. We got fancy and went to a really swanky hotel for pre-movie cocktails to pretend to be suave like Mr. Bond. Below is a picture of Hannah, Karen and me in the blig-blig hotel. I wont say anything about the movie for those of you who plan to see it, expect *spoiler alert* Daniel Craig is very handsome.

On Friday night Belfast friends had people over for a dessert part. My dessert caught on fire (something probably to do with me having to improvise ingredients and figure out Celsius), so I did not contribute. But I did get to have a favorite dessert of the Irish called banoffee (bananas and toffee pudding). It is delish. I like Belfast friends (and not only for their banoffee).

They are already putting up Christmas decorations all around town (there is a manikin petting a reindeer in a storefront window). I guess it is not too early because they don't have Thanksgiving and I can't complain because I don't feel guilty listening to Sufjan's Christmas albums already. Here is Sufjan singing Holy, Holy, Holy like an angel. You can ignore the video (it's kinda weird and takes away from the song) and just listen.

Mom asked me what people thought of the election over here. They are happy with President Elect Obama. I have not met a single Irish person who likes George Bush and in their minds John McCain and Goerge Bush are pretty much the same person. Sometimes strangers want to talk to me (or at me) about politics when they hear my accent.

In poetry class on Friday I found out some good news about myself. I am not a sarcastic person (a word which comes from the Greek for tearing of the flesh), but rather an ironic person (which means that I appreciate incongruity between what is said and what is reality). Ahhh, the self-discovery of the abroad experience.

When I was walking to school today...

I ran into a tree branch.
With my face.

Noble fense, but I'll CU later.

I was in County Wicklow this weekend (you're probably thinking -- "Oh yes, County Wicklow, I was wondering when she would make it there...).

Anywho, a national Christian Union retreat was held there this weekend. Christian Union is pretty much the only evangelical Christian organization that Irish universities have and it is all student run. I have been going to Galway's CU every Wednesday night since being here. There are good people there -- lots of international students.

Christan college life is very different here. It is no Wake Forest with 6 different well-attended campus ministries to choose from. The CU is pretty much it and students run it all themselves. There are 13,000 students at Galway and 30 students are in the CU -- about half of them international. I am very thankful for my friends there and the fellowship that they offer.

The retreat was real chill-axing and good. Think Montreat on a much smaller scale -- talking around food, damp stony walls, chilly air and changing trees. The speaker was a pastor from Belfast who spoke on the book of Acts. It's always great worshiping with Christians that are not from the same place as I because it reminds me of how we are all brothers and sisters and love the same God. They also had a violinist on the worship team. so. yeah. That was good.

This weekend I got made fun of a lot for being American, apparently it's a way they show affection... but I don't know. I can't help that I pronounce vowels differently and says things like "I'll shout you a holler, girlfriend." Well, maybe I can help that last part. This weekend I also got to hang out with some really fun people, but it was kinda sad because I probably will never see them again. When we were saying good-bye we were literally saying that the next time we would see each other will be in heaven. I bet there are tons of violins in heaven's praise band.



This is a picture of a Dublin sunset that I took on our 5 1/2 hour bus ride back to Galway from County Wicklow. I felt guilty that I did not have any photos from this weekend for the blog.

PS to family: I said "noble fence" to my new friend, Lorraine. She thought it was hilarious and has been incorporating it in her own vocabulary. So "noble fence" has gone international. She also has been working on the proper use of the word "only".

Noble fense family, but I am a just a little only sometimes and can't wait to see you at Christmas.

Weave laughed. Weave cried. Weave made it back alive.

Summary: I went to London this weekend and met up with friends from Wake who are studying abroad all around the world. It was unreal.

You know, there are moments in our lives that change us -- that become part of who we are for the rest of our lives. Like getting married, having a baby, seeing Sufjan live or something.

I say this because I think one of those moments happened to me this weekend.
And I think it was when we were taking out our friend's weave.

It was Saturday night and 17 friends from all over the world had a dinner party at a friend's apartment. Ellen Page was the dinner chef or is it chief... and Cori Melton made brownies from scratch. Anywho, we were all a pretty giddy, having been abroad in various locations and now so gloriously reunited. After a good amount of talking, hugging, laughing, eating, singing, and dancing to Nelly (not Furtato, sorry sal) we decided that we could tackle the task of removing Eva aka Weava's hair weave. She had had it in for a while and was ready to wash her hair, so we decided to help her out.

It took five professional hair-braiders over 2 hours to turn Eva into Weava, so why we thought it would take us armatures less time to de-weava Eva, I don't know.

Five to six of us at a time worked on the African lioness's main. We got better at it as the hours rolled by -- developing systems of de-braiding and terms for the systems. We said things like, "Pass the weave bag!" and "I need a finisher on the left side!". We were in a race against the clock because we had to finish in time to catch the last metro back to the hostel and there was no way we were going to let our friend walk the streets of London with a half-row. It was very dramatic. We finished removing the last piece of weave right as the Coldplay song "Fix You" was ending and right as we had to leave to catch the metro. It was such a beautiful image of friendship. Some of us cried.

Ok, other things about London. The city is huge and trendy and historic and awesome, we all know this. But really, it was just so great to see all of those people. I kept singing in my head (and obviously sometimes aloud) the line from an Avett Brothers song "It's not where I am, it's who I'm with." And that's how I honestly feel. I love those people.


Traveling to and from, also in and around London was interesting to say the least. I am a bit wary about how specific I should be about details regarding traveling due to the amount of grief I already receive from my family (how many airports does Greensboro have again...). Everything was fine on the way to London until I got to the city and the metro was closed for the night and I had no idea where to take a bus to. Let's just say, a few hours hours, a few sketchy locations, and a few pay phone calls later I collapse hugged Kesley Paul in the middle of a bus station at 1.30 AM.

At that point, I was ready to hug my friends (those who were still awake) and to get into my little hostel bed. But oh wait, even though I asked to be in the same room as them, I was assigned one really far away. So I shared the top bunk with Kelsey for the night. And the next night too...

All of the traveling TO London did not compare to the hilarity of the traveling situation FROM London. As I have stated in previous blogs, some of us are planners, and others of us are fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pantsers. Josh Walters and I fall into the latter group. We both had flights, in separate airports both of which are an hour from the city, at 8.30 on Monday morning, while our friends (excluding the Londoners) had left by Sunday afternoon. We also had no technical place to stay on Sunday night.

Yes, it is true, that after some of our friends left on Sunday afternoon we felt a little down-trodden and concerned about the traveling fate ahead of us. But this is not a sad story because Josh and I had a super time with Cori, Kendra and Andrew Fisher on Sunday night. We went to an awesome church, pastored by Tim Hughes (not as in the sibling of Molly and Kevin, but as in the writer of the song "Here I am to Worship"). We roamed the city at night -- Christmas lights are already up. We ate at a delish Asian fusion restaurant. We took couple pictures of London at night. It was an all around good time.

The catch came when Josh and I had to head back to Cori's house, the Wake Forest London Worrell house, where they are "not allowed to have overnight guests". Sooooo we did not stay over night because when you have to get up at 3.30 AM to catch a bus, it does not count as staying over night. Also, if nobody knows about it, it does not count either. So we were doubly safe. Many thanks go out to Cori Melton for being such a good mom to us -- printing out directions, writing down emergency phone numbers, making us a snack for the road. Many thanks go out to Josh Walters for being my protector on the streets of London in the wee hours of the morning. I quote Josh when I say, "Molly, I would never leave you alone in the sketchy suburbs of London. Unless there are knives involved, then it is everyman for himself." Thank you for that, Josh.
Other things we did -- see some sweet art, walk around, hug, take pictures in famous places, laugh, have a picnic in a park, walk around, hug, chase birds and squirrels, laugh, go to mass (where I had a coughing attack during a really quiet part), talk about creepy men in the hostel, laugh, lose Cori and Rebekah, hug, take the metro about a million times, cry.

A note about being back in Galway:
I love it here, but it is freeeeeezing. Like, it is middle of January and numb hands cold. Also, I have a history paper due on Friday. And I miss my friends. Reality.