I’ve been having a rather tough day today - actually, it’s been a rather tough couple of days. Travelling in a foreign country will do that to a person, but my main concern over the past few days has been the rest of the semester here at Trinity.

I learned last night that I would be unable to take advanced coursework in history, because I am only here for one semester, and most, if not all, advanced history classes (think 3xxx-level course at the U of M) at Trinity are taught for the year. This has, to put it mildly, disappointed me. Infuriated may be a more apt word. The whole reason I chose this program was because it offered me more or less complete control over my coursework, and now they’ve taken that away from me. It is also insulting. I haven’t taken an introductory history course ever in college, and now my only options in history are freshmen and sophomore courses. Frankly, it would’ve been a better use of my time (and money) to stay at the U of M and get a few grad seminars under my belt, which I’ve been actively encouraged to do by faculty. So I’m a little put out.

Actually, it would probably be more worthwhile for me to work on my senior thesis than sit through freshmen courses here. I could do it, too - they have all of the internet resources that every other school does these days, albeit much more Byzantine. I’ve even come up with a good Irish figure to study and maybe write a research article on: William Bernard Hickie, who was a British general during World War I who later threw in his lot with the Irish Free State. It’d be interesting to get a read on his motivations throughout his life.

To add to that stressor, I’m supposed to give a presentation with a partner before class tomorrow, and she and I are not on speaking terms. The reason is simple - I am highly-strung, prone to emotional outbursts, and I typically expect a certain amount of deference from my work partners unless they are personally known to me - not a good trait to have (in fact, there’s a bit of self-improvement I need to work on), but there you have it. She, on the other hand, is quite simply a bitch, and that is not only my opinion. The problem is that she is on the IES program, too, and rooming with all the other IES girls. None of them particularly like me anyway, and now this exacerbates matters. In addition, we (meaning the IES Trinity students) have social events together (last Thursday was taco night or something, my memory escapes me), so this is not good. I’ve been feeling more alienated than ever from the other students, and these past few days have not been helping matters. I don’t want to walk away from this trip friendless, but more and more I’ve come to realize that’s a distinct possibility. Even the girl who was cordial to me and with whom I’ve had several conversations has become noticeably colder…

So there’s my social anxiety. Sorry, dear reader, to burden you with it, but this blog has really become more of a diary for me than anything else, so all I can say is, you don’t have to read my ramblings! Hopefully I can come up with something worthwhile, though. On another, less personal note, I’ve decided not to visit my ancestral homeland. I had made a vow to myself (and my mother, who is extremely interested in genealogy) to go see Tipperary Town in County Tipperary, which is where my great-great-great-great grandfather (I’m not exactly sure the proper number of greats) was born. Well, he was actually born about three or four miles to the west of the town, but it’s basically the same location. Anyway, I had a day trip all planned out for Tipperary (although thankfully I hadn’t bought the bus ticket yet) when I was informed that Tipperary Town is generally considered to be the worst town in Ireland. It’s violent, it’s dirty, and it’s overrun by Travellers, those vagabonds that everybody here seems to complain about (and quite unrelated to the Roma and Sinti, despite often being called gypsies). Just last March, a group of young toughs beat the shit out of some American tourist on St. Paddy’s Day and gouged out one of his eyes. Hmmm… I think I’ll steer clear. Plus, it’s also the poorest town in Ireland, too - apparently, the Celtic Tiger bypassed that part of the country.

I suddenly find myself craving a martini. It’s a good thing booze is so expensive around here (roughly $7.50 for a cocktail, $6.50 for a beer or a shot, and about $37 for a fifth of cheap gin), otherwise I’d probably be having a drink a night. Already spend $3 (roughly) on a sandwich and a Pepsi for lunch… This place is fucking EXPENSIVE. On the other hand, it’s not significantly worse than London, Paris, New York, and even Chicago. I guess the really cheap place on the island is in Northern Ireland. I’ve even heard stories of people making booze runs north of the border to get cheaper deals. I might just have to look into that - if a bus fare to NI is 5 or 10 euros one-way, 10 or 20 euros round trip (meaning roughly $20-30), it might actually BE cheaper to buy in bulk up that way - their groceries and other goods are cheaper, too. In fact, it might be a good way to pool roommate money…