|Current mood:|| creative|
|Current music:||Irish radio babble|
In the rough
Interesting developments in my little bubble of a world, lately. I have set myself a bit away from everyone, and just proved to others that yes, I am crazy. Knew I wouldn't hear back from some.
How it is in Ireland
Woke up this morning, barely. I have a hard time with getting out of bed because a.) I am lazy, and b.) I really like a toasty bed. But I got up anyway, ran off to the washroom, flicking the kettle on along the way. Washed my face, brushed my teeth and flossed (flossing always reminds me of g-strings, I dislike the image). Head through back to the kitchen, make a cup of instant coffee and go back to bed (it's really the only piece of furniture to lounge in, in my apartment) to wake up some more.
Last night was the first time I had ever navigated the city by bus all by myself. It sounds like something so lame, but it's the total truth. I've been taking a bus down to Eyre Square in the evenings then cabbing it from there. But I finally decided that I would just try it and see how it goes. I'll spend 8 euro a day instead of 18 euro on transportation, it's kind of a must-do.
I've been taking the first route bus for a couple of weeks now. There are regulars. I feel interesting, sitting there, slowly becoming one of those regulars, either playing my 3DS or listening to music. I hop off in Eyre Square and went to investigate the posted times for buses. See, the thing is, they don't post maps, so I get confused because I can't see where the damn bus is supposed to go in relation to my house. I also am still having trouble with the 24 hour clock and often have to count on my fingers like a moron in public to understand what time it is. I know. Weird.
Turns out the bus that goes near my house (I think) will arrive fairly quickly. So I wait around, pretending I know what I am doing (well, I guess waiting for a bus doesn't really flex the acting skills) and smoke a cigarette. I'm thinking about the walk from the bus stop to my house and how the streets are mostly dark, also how it's nice and cool for the evening, and fairly quiet. So, I walked the entire block and a half (hard to tell since all neighborhood streets are pretty curvy) get home, it's half past 7 and I haven't had a bite to eat. I boil up some rice, garlic and pesto and blammo: dinner.
How it could be in Italy
Then an hour watching an Italian movie, which then in turns to my interest in falling down piles of stones that make up huge old houses in Italy (can you guess what I watched? total chick flick). I google, find many such properties, for only something like 30,000 euro! So of course, I want one. I want one because they have wooden beams that are a hundred years old, and stone that a mason actually fashioned into a square like shape a hundred years ago. I want one because the windows are large and looming, the entire house is made of only stone and wood and is still standing after a gazillion years.
I already know I could just scrape off the moss in the damp spots, set up a little writing desk next to a window, throw down a soft rag rug in beautiful colours of a siesta sunset, onto the 2 foot thick floor and have candles everywhere. Huge pale yellow pillar candles you'd see in churches, the wax would puddle on the floor, but that's ok, because it can be scraped off, no problemo.
It doesn't take much to live in the rough. Even the gypsies wouldn't live as well as I would with no hydro and plumbing in my proposed villa, and they live in the ditches in Italy. A floor beneath my feet, a bed to sleep in and a roof over my head.
In the purple/red haze of the hills of Italy.