Weekend Updates--I've got Soul but I'm not a Soldier

It's almost midnight here and I'm pretty tired but at the behest of Eileen, I shall update you on my adventures since we last encountered.

Last week was pretty much the best week ever. I'm am fully confident in such a declarative statement because in 7 days all the necessary elements were covered: romance, comedy, good friends, travels, Guinness, and ice cream... lots of ice cream.

Monday night Dawn and I went to a nightclub here in London since Jon, my flatmate's boyfriend, would be coming soon (earlier today actually) and it was one of my last opportunities to just let loose. The night started with a fistfight right behind us at the queue for the club where the guy literally right behind us tried to knock out a bouncer. Bad idea, since it was him who got a couple of teeth knocked in, spilling blood all over the concrete. Talk about painting the town red there buddy. Dawn and I were the last ones to get in for free admissions, arriving at the door just a little past midnight. I'm a superstitious man and these were the signs of a potentially great night. What happened in the club, I shall not disclose however, to maintain the mystique surrounding the rest of the night. Yes I know blogs are suppose to promote transparancy and take away the mystery, digital codes cracking the personal barriers but mere words could not capture the night so I won't even bother.

Tuesday Emma, Jewels, and I went to see Avenue Q. Music, puppet sex, Gary Coleman...what more could you ask for?

Thursday morning I departed for Galway, Ireland at 5AM. It may have been a fluke but my travel was so comfortable and expedited that I really had no complaints. I got my ticket 30 seconds after approaching the Ryanair counter (no exaggeration), security took 3 minutes, and I was on the airplane in a jiffy. There was no point in making the process slow and unpleasant for everyone, which made me wonder why Americans had to be the assholes who take 30 minutes at a ticket counter, 40 minutes at security, only to reenact the last scene in Meet the Parents to wait for everyone to board before you do.

Galway was absolutely stunning. It's a very young town with several universities nearby...but in Ireland. Friday night we started dinner with wi after a breathtaking tour of the countryside (must see people: cliffs of Moher. 600 ft above sealevel where the cliffs descend vertically, as if the Earth raised the island of Ireland itself, pushing it above dominion from the sea and setting it upon a hill), and went to a local club with authentic live Irish music. The first thing to do in a bar when in Ireland? Order a Guinness. For some inexplicable reason the Guinness there tastes fuller with greater tones of coffee and chocolate. It was obscenely expensive (4.80 euros a pint) but worth every penny. They played Galway Girl, which in my drunken excitement made me dance upon booths and other unstable but utterly enjoyable platforms.

We left the club to find a younger crowd. So we ended up at the "Cougar club" now appropriately dubbed, attracted by the middle aged group gathered outside. There was another live band playing who covered more American figures like Hendrix, the Killers, and Green Day. Somehow we made it to the front and got the crowd energized by dancing in a drunken haze. A woman in blue, who must have been at least 40, with a haircut that simply screamed middleschool teacher let loose and started, for lack of a better expression, shaking her thang. This man, who must have been at least 60 kept high fiving us while whispering something in my ear that to this day I do not know. A girl about our age apologized profusely while her boyfriend dragged her out of the bar. All she wanted to do was keep dancing--her boyfriend wanted to sleep.

We crept back to our hostel late at night, proud for having conquered and converted a group literally twice our age. Saturday was much more chill, roaming around the city, the coastline, and splurging on tubs of ice cream, swiss rolls, and chocolate donuts after an Irish feast simply because we craved dessert. Our sugar high caused us to act as if the sweets were laced with THC and we were the stereotypical obnoxious Americans, speaking every word 10 decibles too loud and completely inconsiderate of our surroundings, but we simply didn't care.

Leaving Ireland was one of the most difficult things I've done this summer (which says a lot about the work I'm doing). Now I'm back in London, hesitant to go to sleep because that means I will have to go to work that much sooner. I don't like the idea where at the blink of an eye 8 hours have passed and you're forced to be somewhere when moments ago you have plenty of time to savor... wow just rambling now. Thoughts to be expanded later since my eyes are straining and they need the rest.