One of the more humorous differences between home and Ireland is not knowing my phone number. When exchanging cell numbers in the states you rattle off your number like you have a million times before, however none of us know our numbers here. When we are out with friends and we have to exchange numbers we often times have to ask one another "what's my number" as they proceed to look it up in their phone. It sounds so foolish, but everything is so different that we haven't memorized our id numbers for the university or our cellphone numbers. No worries I think I have mine down...finally. Back in the day when I was a little tot I remember snuggling in mom and dad's bed and them asking us what our address was and quizzing us on our contact information incase we were to ever get lost. I feel like I'm 3 again trying to memorize everything incase I get lost. Like a true toddler I can't even pronounce my street name correctly.
Katie had warned me about the difference in paper size, but somehow in all my packing it had slipped my mind. The folders I brought along are of no use, because the paper they use over here is longer and more narrow. None of them fit in the folders I packed...whoops.
I forgot to mention this in a much earlier post. On my very last flight over here there was a man two rows ahead of me on my right side who looked all too familiar. With a couple people between us I wasn't able to see the entirety of his profile, but from what I could see, he looked quite familiar. Let me describe him to you: Tall, bald, rounded glasses with a mustache. Some of you are thinking...didn't you just describe your father?! Yes, exactly what I thought when I first saw him! Obviously I knew it was not practical that my father would be on a plane to Shannon, Ireland. However, this man looked so very similar to my father. When he turned his head further I was able to see that he had was indeed not my dad. Even though this man was a complete stranger it was a comforting feeling just to have him sit there looking like my dad as I flew over the ocean for the very first time : )
NUIG is very fortunate to have a beautiful sports complex called the Kingfisher. Unfortunately, it is privately owned and very costly. To obtain a 5 month membership for my semester here I would have to fork over 195 euro ($257), no thank you! I enjoy working out, but yikes I can't afford that. Today sign-ups for clubs was held in the Kingfisher, so I was able to have a look around. It was most definitely a beautiful facility, but sadly it will probably have been both my first and last visit. While there I checked out the locker room and found the craziest "flush button" for a toilet I've ever seen. Yes I know what you're thinking...why do you have a new obsession with Irish bathroom facilities and why are you taking pictures of them? It's as if I've never seen a neat looking bathroom in the U.S. I really can't explain it, but I guess I'm just slightly enamored by the bathrooms over here. Take a look at the fancy silver button to flush the toilet
What a relief it was to see my name on the list of students approved to the 3rd year Sociology Options course. So what this means is that I sorted through many course timetables, syllabi and descriptions as well as waited in line for a couple hours in order to secure these spots. I can't say it was a fun process, but it was great to see my name on the list of few students admitted to these highly sought after classes
I have more stories and adventures to share, but it's almost 3:00 am. I don't know why I'm up! Off to bed. Goodnight : )
With Love from Galway
3 AM! Ireland is changing your shedule!
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