Monday, December 11, 2006
Biochem is over, but my week is still hell
Who thought it was a good idea to take all of your finals in one week when they consist of 60-90% of your grade?
Sunday, December 03, 2006
My "what felt like a busy, but really wasnt" weekend
I have about 13 unfinished blog drafts waiting to be completed. I think I start them too late in the evening. I don't want to work on my essay, or study. Even though both of those are exordinarily important. I will write about my weekend. It moved so quickly, I feel like it wasn't here at all. I've spent so much time studying and working in front of the computer, but I don't have much to show for it. I'm very worried about this upcoming mess of finals and passing all of my courses. Studying would ensure that I will do well on the finals, but I can't seem to bring myself to do it.
Friday: went to the gym in the AM. class. ate a wonderful mushroom soup at Ciaran's and got hit on by the waiter who doesnt really speak English. went over to the Health Science Center to work on Biochem studying. I walked back in the dark. The wind has been unbelievable for the past week, it almost knocked me over a few times. I came back, probably ate dinner and went to bed. It felt like I had done so much more.
Saturday: I woke up ultra early, mostly because I was very excited about the upcoming day. I packed up all of my gear to go riding, a lunch and went down to the Stables to pick up the bus. It was late (as usual) but I managed to arrive downtown around 9:30. I headed over to Cornmarket Square, when suddenly I noticed an abnormally large number of people on the streets in Limerick. What is this? I thought. No one actually goes out this early... or do they. Apparently what I thought was Limerick's weak attempt at a city market (because everything is boarded up on the weekdays or when I'm around that dingy area) is Limerick's epicenter of activity on saturday mornings. the market had its crepe vendor, gourmet fudge, fishes, cheeses from farm ladies with no teeth, fresh meats and sausages, various jams chuntney and organic honey vendors,a dozen or so baked goods vendors (yummm)and last but not least: farmers with dirty earth vegetables like cabbages, potatoes, leeks, tubers, etc. with dirty hands wellies, overall, tweed jackets and canes. One man i swear looked like he had gotten here by donkey-pulled cart. If it wasnt just me here, I would have gotten something wonderful to use for dinner, but its just me and im on a diet. I stuck to the orginal plan to eat at the Wild Onion Cafe. They serve a 3 cup carafe of coffee (this is the most I have gotten in one sitting in Ireland without having to pay extra. when i got my meal....I have never seen a plate this full. The whole thing was covered in french toast, potatoes and a huge vegetarian "sausage" patty. Real maple syrup. It was FAN-tastic. I hate french toast, but this was alot different, almost angel food cake like. I got up the courage to ask why an American couple would move to Ireland to open up a Chicago style "diner". She was cute and sweet, explain it was more for health care costs than anything. We talked for about 20 minutes about Limerick, UL, being away from the States, and diners. I jetted off to the Munster rugby store to buy my dad a tracksuit set that cost 105euro (ouch) but he really wanted it. I narrowly made to the bus station on Parnell to get the 11:35 bus to Adare. I arrived and headed right over to the Gift Box (a craft/souvenier shop with a horrible website)to facilitate my mother's purchases of Nicholas Mosse Pottery. She fell in love with the Landscape pattern (lots of animals) when we were in Clifden and this shop in Adare has a huge stock of pottry goods. I set up the order and the shipment, tried on a Barbour coat at the expensive equestrian store, ate my lunch and called up a taxi to take me out to Clonshire for my ride. Upon arriving I filled out my liability form and jumped on the "blitzy" little bay pony Basil. Don't let him fool you, he had a bit of the Devil's whisker inside of him. Apparently, I was attending the riding outing with a group of French-Canadians from MOntreal on holiday. they were wealthy and well dressed and they all had big irish hunters to ride, while i got stuck on the plucky pony. We headed out after a quick jumping warm up when I knew we were up to no good. When Dan Foley, our guide, met with us the breeze picked up to a heavy and cold Irish wind, and all of the horses started moving faster. We rode through a field of cows (some were bull calves no less) and the horses really started to get antsy. Some bucked, others reared, mine just sped up. We stopped for a bit at waited for the horses to settle in a bit, to relax with us. But both the horses and riders had thier adrenalin running. Then one of the cows charged one of the horses that the charming younger French Canadian with long puffy hair was riding. The horse took off across the field - with every other horse following him. When we finally got them under control, we did a few more jumps of solid stone walls between trees and I felt pretty secure. Then we approached an area of construction. Dan suggested that we try jumping this flat bed truck (lower than a regular car of course) that was filled with gravel. He aimed his little chestnust gelding over the gravel heap. Obviously the horse refused, but Dan beat him until he went over. I spared my little pony and stayed back with the matrons of the ride - the wives with the expensive show jumpers who dont do much other than arena work and barely break a sweat riding. They were nice company and laughed at thier idiodic husbands trying to prove their masculinity by jumping these rediculous jumps. I told the women that I had only jumped a few times before (well ever) and they sort of looked at me as if I had 4 heads. They said they really respected my abilities as a rider because they have been jumping for years and didn't feel comfortable enough to do much of the jumping. The footing got worse as we headed through the fields and it was very muddy. The wind picked up more and it was quite cold. Dan asked us if we'd like to try a "tricky" jump. That meant that we had to jump a little string fence. I absolutely refused. The last thing I needed was to jump a piece of twine with my little pony and fall off when he refused, or having him get scared, attempt to jump it and get stuck in the string. None of the horses wanted to do it, but Dan just said "use the whip, that is what it's for". So of course some of the riders got the horses across because they were too scared to refuse the whip. Other horses, like the big black horse (the man riding spoke hardly any english at all and he and his wife were the oldest of the group) refused the fence and the whip and would not jump. So we moved on. There were about 10 more jumps, I did about 4 of them (all lower ones with good visibility) I tried a combination of 3, but lost my stirrup after 2 and made a mess of the 3rd. oh well. Across the field we went at a breakneck speed ( I like this more than jumping) until we reached a duck pond. "Ho-ho", Dan said, "who'd like to take a bit of a swim, its quite refreshing." He jumped his horse into the pond (who did not like being wet at all). The man on the big black horse attempted, the women attempted, the man with the long puffy gray hair who flirts with me and the other woman constantly while riding, finally got his horse in and then fell off when the horse took a bee-line out of the water quickly and took a sharp left. He guy fell off and into the water, and everyone laughed. It was a great sight. I decided my pony was brave enough, so I took him to the water, only squeezed his sides, and he took 3 steps in. He took a big drink (the perfect sign) and jumped in. Somehow I forgot that everyone had BIG horses and I was on the pipsqueak. So the water came up to my thighs, soaking my boots, chaps, socks and breeches. And I had no change of clothes except for another shirt. While I waited for the rest of the group to walk around the pond, my pony decided that it would be a great time to lay down and roll. Why? I have no idea, apparently his refreshing bath in the pond made him want to cover himself in dirt again. We rode and jumped some in and outs and waited patiently while the men folk ran around to jump another section of cross country jumps including a log pile, a hill jump and a really expansive jump that was much wider than my pony. When we headed in I though about all the crazy stuff that we did. None of it would be allowed in the United States, too much liability. Not to mention the fact that we went through pastures filled with cows, sheep and other horses on horseback, which is really dangerous. And the footing was awful, in the States you wouldnt have even wanted to turn your horse out in mud that deep, let alone ride through some of it as it was about a foot and a half deep in places. I returned little Basil to the stable girls who washed him off and I headed back up to the arena to watch the kids camp lessons. I paid and then asked the Canadians if I could get a ride back into town with them. I hated staying there the extra hour, but it saved me 10euro and the hassle of trying to get a cab. I had such a huge problem getting out to Clonshire on this particular day because of the weddings that were being held and I most definately didnt want to be stuck. I talked to them for a long time, as the cab was quite late. They asked me all sorts of questions about Ireland, my studies, etc. They asked me if I spoke French, and my reply was that I understood more than I could speak, which was true. The eldest man grabbed my chin and said, "une tres gentile fille, n'est pas?" and then said something about my eyes and face. We cheerily packed into the van as it was made for 8 and we had 9. When we reached Adare they asked me if I wanted to get a drink with them, but I declined politely, I wanted to get back to Limerick to study. Unfortunately, it was about 7pm by the time I got back to UL and I didnt feel like doing much at all. I think I got depresse and watched TV until about 2am because I just couldnt sleep.
Sunday: Or today. I woke up at 9:30 after having only gotten a few hours of sleep. I putz around on the computer and went downstairs to filth. disgusting roommates. it was so gross, I had to clean the kitchen. Once it was clean, i made myself a big helping of wheat germ pancakes with cooked apple and pear, drank some coffee, took a shower, wasted more time and eventually headed to the library, ate some lunch and a bunch of snacks there, then went to the computer lab to waste money printing. i spent all of that time pouring over my essay, just to end up with a jumbled outline for this paper. I really should spend more time on classes that are required for my major, like Biochem, but I'd like this paper not to be one of the boring, thoughtless masses that she has to read through and give C3's to. I feel like all of this work I have done up to this point is in vain. I came back, used my leftover mexican beans for a baked stuffed pepper, and watched an episode of House on Lain's online TV website. and I'm still here. It's cold and raining outside. Like it has been and will be. I wish I could get up to Croagh Patrick before I leave, but there is no way I can do it alone in this weather with so few daylight hours. I'm going to go make myself a pot of tea, put on some pj's (Dear Lauren Koenig - If you are reading this, I think that a pair of UVM sweatpants would be AWESOME right now, and I totally need to get a pair ASAP), and scrounge around in some awesome molecular biochemistry.
by the time i have finished this, and written my emails, it is 12:13am and I didn't get much accomplished. I fail.
Friday: went to the gym in the AM. class. ate a wonderful mushroom soup at Ciaran's and got hit on by the waiter who doesnt really speak English. went over to the Health Science Center to work on Biochem studying. I walked back in the dark. The wind has been unbelievable for the past week, it almost knocked me over a few times. I came back, probably ate dinner and went to bed. It felt like I had done so much more.
Saturday: I woke up ultra early, mostly because I was very excited about the upcoming day. I packed up all of my gear to go riding, a lunch and went down to the Stables to pick up the bus. It was late (as usual) but I managed to arrive downtown around 9:30. I headed over to Cornmarket Square, when suddenly I noticed an abnormally large number of people on the streets in Limerick. What is this? I thought. No one actually goes out this early... or do they. Apparently what I thought was Limerick's weak attempt at a city market (because everything is boarded up on the weekdays or when I'm around that dingy area) is Limerick's epicenter of activity on saturday mornings. the market had its crepe vendor, gourmet fudge, fishes, cheeses from farm ladies with no teeth, fresh meats and sausages, various jams chuntney and organic honey vendors,a dozen or so baked goods vendors (yummm)and last but not least: farmers with dirty earth vegetables like cabbages, potatoes, leeks, tubers, etc. with dirty hands wellies, overall, tweed jackets and canes. One man i swear looked like he had gotten here by donkey-pulled cart. If it wasnt just me here, I would have gotten something wonderful to use for dinner, but its just me and im on a diet. I stuck to the orginal plan to eat at the Wild Onion Cafe. They serve a 3 cup carafe of coffee (this is the most I have gotten in one sitting in Ireland without having to pay extra. when i got my meal....I have never seen a plate this full. The whole thing was covered in french toast, potatoes and a huge vegetarian "sausage" patty. Real maple syrup. It was FAN-tastic. I hate french toast, but this was alot different, almost angel food cake like. I got up the courage to ask why an American couple would move to Ireland to open up a Chicago style "diner". She was cute and sweet, explain it was more for health care costs than anything. We talked for about 20 minutes about Limerick, UL, being away from the States, and diners. I jetted off to the Munster rugby store to buy my dad a tracksuit set that cost 105euro (ouch) but he really wanted it. I narrowly made to the bus station on Parnell to get the 11:35 bus to Adare. I arrived and headed right over to the Gift Box (a craft/souvenier shop with a horrible website)to facilitate my mother's purchases of Nicholas Mosse Pottery. She fell in love with the Landscape pattern (lots of animals) when we were in Clifden and this shop in Adare has a huge stock of pottry goods. I set up the order and the shipment, tried on a Barbour coat at the expensive equestrian store, ate my lunch and called up a taxi to take me out to Clonshire for my ride. Upon arriving I filled out my liability form and jumped on the "blitzy" little bay pony Basil. Don't let him fool you, he had a bit of the Devil's whisker inside of him. Apparently, I was attending the riding outing with a group of French-Canadians from MOntreal on holiday. they were wealthy and well dressed and they all had big irish hunters to ride, while i got stuck on the plucky pony. We headed out after a quick jumping warm up when I knew we were up to no good. When Dan Foley, our guide, met with us the breeze picked up to a heavy and cold Irish wind, and all of the horses started moving faster. We rode through a field of cows (some were bull calves no less) and the horses really started to get antsy. Some bucked, others reared, mine just sped up. We stopped for a bit at waited for the horses to settle in a bit, to relax with us. But both the horses and riders had thier adrenalin running. Then one of the cows charged one of the horses that the charming younger French Canadian with long puffy hair was riding. The horse took off across the field - with every other horse following him. When we finally got them under control, we did a few more jumps of solid stone walls between trees and I felt pretty secure. Then we approached an area of construction. Dan suggested that we try jumping this flat bed truck (lower than a regular car of course) that was filled with gravel. He aimed his little chestnust gelding over the gravel heap. Obviously the horse refused, but Dan beat him until he went over. I spared my little pony and stayed back with the matrons of the ride - the wives with the expensive show jumpers who dont do much other than arena work and barely break a sweat riding. They were nice company and laughed at thier idiodic husbands trying to prove their masculinity by jumping these rediculous jumps. I told the women that I had only jumped a few times before (well ever) and they sort of looked at me as if I had 4 heads. They said they really respected my abilities as a rider because they have been jumping for years and didn't feel comfortable enough to do much of the jumping. The footing got worse as we headed through the fields and it was very muddy. The wind picked up more and it was quite cold. Dan asked us if we'd like to try a "tricky" jump. That meant that we had to jump a little string fence. I absolutely refused. The last thing I needed was to jump a piece of twine with my little pony and fall off when he refused, or having him get scared, attempt to jump it and get stuck in the string. None of the horses wanted to do it, but Dan just said "use the whip, that is what it's for". So of course some of the riders got the horses across because they were too scared to refuse the whip. Other horses, like the big black horse (the man riding spoke hardly any english at all and he and his wife were the oldest of the group) refused the fence and the whip and would not jump. So we moved on. There were about 10 more jumps, I did about 4 of them (all lower ones with good visibility) I tried a combination of 3, but lost my stirrup after 2 and made a mess of the 3rd. oh well. Across the field we went at a breakneck speed ( I like this more than jumping) until we reached a duck pond. "Ho-ho", Dan said, "who'd like to take a bit of a swim, its quite refreshing." He jumped his horse into the pond (who did not like being wet at all). The man on the big black horse attempted, the women attempted, the man with the long puffy gray hair who flirts with me and the other woman constantly while riding, finally got his horse in and then fell off when the horse took a bee-line out of the water quickly and took a sharp left. He guy fell off and into the water, and everyone laughed. It was a great sight. I decided my pony was brave enough, so I took him to the water, only squeezed his sides, and he took 3 steps in. He took a big drink (the perfect sign) and jumped in. Somehow I forgot that everyone had BIG horses and I was on the pipsqueak. So the water came up to my thighs, soaking my boots, chaps, socks and breeches. And I had no change of clothes except for another shirt. While I waited for the rest of the group to walk around the pond, my pony decided that it would be a great time to lay down and roll. Why? I have no idea, apparently his refreshing bath in the pond made him want to cover himself in dirt again. We rode and jumped some in and outs and waited patiently while the men folk ran around to jump another section of cross country jumps including a log pile, a hill jump and a really expansive jump that was much wider than my pony. When we headed in I though about all the crazy stuff that we did. None of it would be allowed in the United States, too much liability. Not to mention the fact that we went through pastures filled with cows, sheep and other horses on horseback, which is really dangerous. And the footing was awful, in the States you wouldnt have even wanted to turn your horse out in mud that deep, let alone ride through some of it as it was about a foot and a half deep in places. I returned little Basil to the stable girls who washed him off and I headed back up to the arena to watch the kids camp lessons. I paid and then asked the Canadians if I could get a ride back into town with them. I hated staying there the extra hour, but it saved me 10euro and the hassle of trying to get a cab. I had such a huge problem getting out to Clonshire on this particular day because of the weddings that were being held and I most definately didnt want to be stuck. I talked to them for a long time, as the cab was quite late. They asked me all sorts of questions about Ireland, my studies, etc. They asked me if I spoke French, and my reply was that I understood more than I could speak, which was true. The eldest man grabbed my chin and said, "une tres gentile fille, n'est pas?" and then said something about my eyes and face. We cheerily packed into the van as it was made for 8 and we had 9. When we reached Adare they asked me if I wanted to get a drink with them, but I declined politely, I wanted to get back to Limerick to study. Unfortunately, it was about 7pm by the time I got back to UL and I didnt feel like doing much at all. I think I got depresse and watched TV until about 2am because I just couldnt sleep.
Sunday: Or today. I woke up at 9:30 after having only gotten a few hours of sleep. I putz around on the computer and went downstairs to filth. disgusting roommates. it was so gross, I had to clean the kitchen. Once it was clean, i made myself a big helping of wheat germ pancakes with cooked apple and pear, drank some coffee, took a shower, wasted more time and eventually headed to the library, ate some lunch and a bunch of snacks there, then went to the computer lab to waste money printing. i spent all of that time pouring over my essay, just to end up with a jumbled outline for this paper. I really should spend more time on classes that are required for my major, like Biochem, but I'd like this paper not to be one of the boring, thoughtless masses that she has to read through and give C3's to. I feel like all of this work I have done up to this point is in vain. I came back, used my leftover mexican beans for a baked stuffed pepper, and watched an episode of House on Lain's online TV website. and I'm still here. It's cold and raining outside. Like it has been and will be. I wish I could get up to Croagh Patrick before I leave, but there is no way I can do it alone in this weather with so few daylight hours. I'm going to go make myself a pot of tea, put on some pj's (Dear Lauren Koenig - If you are reading this, I think that a pair of UVM sweatpants would be AWESOME right now, and I totally need to get a pair ASAP), and scrounge around in some awesome molecular biochemistry.
by the time i have finished this, and written my emails, it is 12:13am and I didn't get much accomplished. I fail.
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