Quite.

(I wrote this in a word document on September 25th).

Tour guide from Connolly farms... also my future husband.

I'm ashamed of myself that it took this long to finally write about my European endeavors thus far.  I honestly don't even know where to begin!
Right now, I am currently sitting in my dorm room, my temporary home for the next few months.  I live in 311 West Founder's... arguably a distant cousin of the Hogwarts building.  The building and grounds are breathtakingly beautiful; the architecture intricate and of a different world.  This is not knocking dear ol' Washington College at all, but the word "old" here has a strikingly different connotation.
Anyway.

The colorful doors of Dublin!

After staying in London for a few days (sightseeing a bit, drinking tea, ironically hanging out with more Americans), we left for Dublin on a RyanAir flight.  We stayed at the Abraham House (hostel) on Lower Gardiner Street, a walk away from anything worth while to do in Dublin.  I loved Dublin.  Six days and five nights might have been a tad excessive, but regardless, Macauley and I had such a memorable time.  We attempted frugality (as only college kids can), but did not sacrifice the Irish experience (translation: we ate dinners in Quizno's and hung out in pubs all night).  Since I'm not 21 yet, the whole "bar scene" is quite foreign to me.  I don't know how to casually strike up conversations with strangers (One would think that wouldn't be a problem for me, judging by my loud personality) in that setting, so the first few nights in the pubs we were observers more than anything else.  We noticed that we continually attracted middle aged men/couples, and met some fantastically nice people.  After a few nights out, we decided we refused to enter an establishment void of traditional Irish music, and eventually grew accustomed to the pub ways.  One particular night, we ran into everyone sleeping in our hostel room -- two other Americans and three Germans.  Serendipity!  The levels of English-speaking skills varied among the Germans, but we communicated through the language of DANCE!  Such a great night. 
One day, in the middle of the week, we decided to go to western Ireland to see the Cliffs of Moher on a tour.  I was told by authentic Irishmen that western Ireland was the "real" Ireland; I had to go there for the proper Irish experience.  We lucked out.  Sometimes, due to inclement weather, the Cliffs of Moher are impossible to see.  However, we had a clear enough day to behold the Cliffs of Moher in all its glory.  It was simply marvelous.  
I had to keep reminding myself... eventually, I would have to think and use my brain at Holloway.  So, waving goodbye to Dublin was equally a hello to academics once again.  I love the summertime, but I missed going to class.  I'm sure I'll eat my words soon, BUT!  Regardless, excitement squeezes my insides.  Here's to Holloway!  

Wild hair (oh, and the Cliffs of Moher).

Also I have no idea how to position the pictures, so it looks like there's no rhyme nor reason.  I think it gives the blog character.