Dublin Chillin

First, I gotta apologize for not having written something more recently. Guess I've just been having too much fun.

Things have been pretty hectic in Dublin lately. Goin back a couple of weeks, we had 16 of our Georgetown friends living in Florence this semester stay with us for a few days. We showed them the sights we knew and added a few to our repertoire. Among the new activities were a stroll through Trinity College, a tour of the Jameson Distillery, and a "wild" day at the Phoenix Park Zoo.

Trinity College Dublin. Also a prime location to hold up in the event of a zombie apocalypse.

Wish I could tap into those barrels- I'd be disgustingly rich

After our entourage rolled out of Dublin, it was time for me to get to work. I had to write a plethora of essays over the course of two weeks. During that time, I was either locked up in a library somewhere (National Library of Ireland, Dublin Archives, or James Joyce Library at UCD) or confined to my apartment wishing I could be merrymaking with my fellow countrymen. Okay, so it really wasn't that bad but it was like a slap in the face going from complete academic freedom to serious compositions. The topics were pretty sweet too- Joyce, Shakespeare, Orson Welles, John Ford/Sergio Leone, Enda Walsh and the Druid Theatre, and Ulysses.

During my novitiate to becoming a hermit, I decided to break the code and venture into public for a concert at the National Concert Hall. The program was pretty much tailored to me- Ravel's Tombeau de Couperin, Debussy's symphonic Nocturnes, and R. Strauss' Don Quixote. While the National Symphony Orchestra (a division of the RTE television network, oddly enough) wasn't a Philadelphia Orchestra or Cleveland Orchestra, they were still pretty sick and the concert was awesome. There's some history to the National Concert Hall itself. Once the original University College Dublin founded by the recently canonized John Henry Newman, the concert hall used to be part of the classroom building where Joyce roamed about. It was also pretty cool to think that the music I was listening to was really big in Joyce's day (probably a stretch for Dublin, though). The French post-/impressionism inspired me to be reflective and finish up those papers.

National Concert Hall from my seat. I could hear the violinists' thoughts I was so close.

When the fun and games of academia finally came to a halt last Thursday, I and a crew of 13 other dudes ventured to Amsterdam...