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.

lonely bogs and lively pubs.

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
the woodland paths are dry,
under the October twilight the water
mirrors a still sky.
(WB Yeats)

photos
more photos

Ms. Ellen E. Us

So, in general news...

- I have not been able to post an album. The internet here keeps booting me off. But here is one picture. This is Lough Gur, a lake that Mom, Dad and I found not so easily. Think roads with as much wiggle room as that motel that we stayed in Colorado. BUT, apparently, Man has been present in Lough Gur since about 3000 BC and there are numerous megalithic remains there. So that's sweet.

- I am not an illegal resident of Ireland anymore -- wooo hooo! I went back to the Garda this morning (5.45 AM) and had a much more successful trip thanks to the bank document that Mom brought me from the States. While in line I talked to some really nice young guys from Pakistan. This was their 10th time at the Garda station, so I couldn't complain. And to make things even better, the new Garda dude was really chuffy. We talked about Boston, Sarah Palin, and last night's moon.

- I am spending the night at my friend's house tonight. She is is teaching me to speak with a Belfast accent.

- This a special shout out to Señora Emilia Jadoff, who had been a loyal reader of my blog. Emmy, thanks for keeping my readership numbers up.

3 Boltons. 1 rental car. 100s of kilometers of fun.

Jon and Mary Bolton were kind enough to travel across the ocean in the midst of a global economic crisis to visit their long lost daughter (me). It were real fun.

So much took place over these past five days with the rents that there is no possible way that I can blog about everything. It actually kinda works out well because I am not so good with details (aka names of places), so I will leave some of those out. Anywho, mom will be much better with filling you in on the actual names and histories of the lands we ventured to. Needless to say, there were lots of them.

It began on a rainy Thursday in Galway and ended on a rainy Monday in Shannon airport. In between there was a stretch of the left side of the road leading us to rugged cliffs, mystic castles, colorful villages, tropical islands, hidden lakes, mellow pubs, ancient rock circles, thatched-roof houses (shout out to Karver and Scott Roberts -- burnanating the peasants...), and stunning coastlines.

Dad did a really good job braving the other side of the car, the other side of the road, round-a-bouts, unmarked streets, verrrrrry skinny streets, us not knowing where we were going, blind curves, rain, and even floods. There was only one tiny not so poetic incident at the home of WB Yates.

Mom did a really good job of figuring out what we should do and see. We saw some incredible stuff that I would not have been able to visit on my own (the buses don't really make it to the remote places where we traveled).

Ok, I will update you more on the specifics later. Ask mom or dad in the mean time. Just know for now, that is was really fun and great to see my momma and daddy. I must be off to class.

ps -- I will try to put up a link to a photo album once I get all of it sorted.

Dublin. Heard of it?

Some people are jet setters. Some people are planners.
Corrine and I are bus setters and fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pantsers.



We were trying thinking of some fun weekend plans.
Our conversation went something like this...

Corrine: Dublin?
Molly: Sho thang, babe.

So after my last class on Friday I went back to the apartment, unpacked my text books and put a pair of pants, a guidebook and a toothbrush in that book bag. Then I knocked on Corrine's door. Then we walked to downtown Galway and found a bus ticket to Dublin. We were settled in our bus seats in a half an hour. Dublin time.

We made it there in about 3.5 hours and got to see night set on the famous city.


We got off of the bus and got delish sandwiches. We roamed the city streets until we found the city bus that would take us to the University of Dublin. We got on the double decker bus. Little did we know that our weekend would teach us much about city buses. We heard a man say that we was going to get dropped off at the University, so we got off the bus when he did. We walk a ways until we found the dorm where we would be sleeping. Corrine's friend, Lauren, let us in and showed us around her dorm. Corrine and I were tired so we watched The Prince and Me, then went to sleep on tiny leather couches. We were saving our energy for exploring the next day.

Saturday: our big day in Dublin. It began, in staying true to the theme, with a bus ride. We decided to get off the bus at a place that looked cool. We treated ourselves to a nice breakfast/lunch. We sat in lounge chairs while we ate. Needless to say it was a good time. We walked around Dublin. Big stores, old buildings, important monuments, Green parks, charming shops. We saw the places where the movie Once was filmed.

We were trying to get to the Guinness Storehouse, but we couldn't find the bus that would get us there. We looked and looked, enjoying the walk along the way. It was late and we were tired, so sat down to develop a plan, thinking we would not make it to the Storehouse before it closed. When we sat down we saw a sign that told us we would make it there in time, literally. Corrine saw a sign that said Guinness Storehouse and had an arrow pointing down the street. Apparently, if you roam around enough and walk far enough you don't even have to take a bus to get places.

The Storehouse is a really snazzy storehouse/museum/shrine to Author Guinness and all things Guinness. The museum part is 8 stories and shaped like a pint of Guinness (I'll have to show you a map of it for you to understand). We learned all about roasted barley, 9,000 year contracts, hops, advertising, barrel making, and the dreams of a man who believed in a beer that is as dark as the night. At the end of the tour we got to have a pint at the Guinness "Gravity Bar" where you can see all of Dublin.

Ok, this blog entry is getting too long. The only people to have read this far are probably the women in my family and maybe Sally. I'll speed up the rest. That night Corrine and I met up with my friend, Emily, who is part of a group starting a church in Galway. We went to a prayer meeting for Dublin though a group called 24-7 prayer. It was really good. Here is some info about the organization if you are interested.

The rest of the time in Dublin: bus, talk to people in dorm, sleep on little sofa, get up, bus, discount shopping (my first clothing purchase in Ireland), cafe food, roam around to find another bus, get on return bus to Galway, sit in a little town that is having a horse show for an hour, make it back home. We decided that Dublin was fun, bustling, and epic but that Galway is the place for us.

ps -- Because I just can't get enough buses, today I took a Galway city bus to visit with some friends at their house. They told me to get off after the graveyard, but it was so misty and foggy I couldn't see out of the bus windows. Long story short, I ended up walking past a huge foggy graveyard at night with no people around.