12-05-2017, 01:10 PM
If I had found Blake during my final Temple Bar crawl of the year, it wouldn't have been her hand that was wrecked. Okay, that came out wrong. I'm not really a fan of hers. I think the only film I've seen her in was Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants. I only know about this film because it's one of many 'female strong' projects that I've been tracking...for work, mind you.
Yesterday I intentionally got the DUB early via the convenient and cheap airport bus shuttle from St. Stephen's Green, to peruse shops there because I had to dash through last time and they looked interesting, but my ticket said the gate was closing 10 min after I got my boarding pass and the woman at the counter said 'You'd better get on then.' I did the OJ dash through the airport, suspecting that it was set early for Americans, but I was flagged for extra search - and ssss code appeared on my pass (suspicious, sketchy, scary & some other s word...sexy?). Got pulled aside for a full pat down and swabbing of everything. Took like 20 mins. Not as bad as Greg's TSA hell (you win that round, old friend - BON TOUCHE!) That was the worst search I've ever had beyond the time they found magazines when I was flying into Beijing and tore my luggage apart, spreading all my stuff across the floor, while some security officer looked at every single page of every issue. At least I got to keep my clothes on. Got through the pre-immigration okay tho, and like I had guessed, the actual gate hadn't even opened. I showed the whiskey sampler person from Teelings my cap and she treated me to a full flight of everything she was pouring, although I passed on the poteen cocktail and just drank that neat. Then I enjoyed my last Guinness, seated with a lovely SF-bound Irishman, who was delighted to extol the values of the black stuff with me. My flight went well - not packed full. Aer Lingus messed up on my food requests again. I sat next to a Scotsman that reminded me vaguely of PPFY doing his Scottish accent because his was very geniune and I kept hearing little lilts that PPFY and Scotty totally miss. He serves as a prison guard, 20+ years, so we had much to chat about, a charming friendly man, but bald, thick and tatted, definitely not the sort you'd want to cross.
Stacy drove me home via HWY1 and the sunset was magical. Such colors! And today, the Cruz is bright, sunny and clear today, I'm wearing sunglasses because it's so bright after the grey overcastness of Dublin. We went the Harbor cafe for breakfast and I mourned not having any salmon or brown bread, disparaged over the crappy coffee and butter, but thoroughly enjoyed the fruit cup, which was fresh and perfectly ripe - blackberries, strawberries, grapes, pomegranate seeds, a tiny slice of apple and some grapefruit wedges. There's some redemption in that.
Yesterday I intentionally got the DUB early via the convenient and cheap airport bus shuttle from St. Stephen's Green, to peruse shops there because I had to dash through last time and they looked interesting, but my ticket said the gate was closing 10 min after I got my boarding pass and the woman at the counter said 'You'd better get on then.' I did the OJ dash through the airport, suspecting that it was set early for Americans, but I was flagged for extra search - and ssss code appeared on my pass (suspicious, sketchy, scary & some other s word...sexy?). Got pulled aside for a full pat down and swabbing of everything. Took like 20 mins. Not as bad as Greg's TSA hell (you win that round, old friend - BON TOUCHE!) That was the worst search I've ever had beyond the time they found magazines when I was flying into Beijing and tore my luggage apart, spreading all my stuff across the floor, while some security officer looked at every single page of every issue. At least I got to keep my clothes on. Got through the pre-immigration okay tho, and like I had guessed, the actual gate hadn't even opened. I showed the whiskey sampler person from Teelings my cap and she treated me to a full flight of everything she was pouring, although I passed on the poteen cocktail and just drank that neat. Then I enjoyed my last Guinness, seated with a lovely SF-bound Irishman, who was delighted to extol the values of the black stuff with me. My flight went well - not packed full. Aer Lingus messed up on my food requests again. I sat next to a Scotsman that reminded me vaguely of PPFY doing his Scottish accent because his was very geniune and I kept hearing little lilts that PPFY and Scotty totally miss. He serves as a prison guard, 20+ years, so we had much to chat about, a charming friendly man, but bald, thick and tatted, definitely not the sort you'd want to cross.
Stacy drove me home via HWY1 and the sunset was magical. Such colors! And today, the Cruz is bright, sunny and clear today, I'm wearing sunglasses because it's so bright after the grey overcastness of Dublin. We went the Harbor cafe for breakfast and I mourned not having any salmon or brown bread, disparaged over the crappy coffee and butter, but thoroughly enjoyed the fruit cup, which was fresh and perfectly ripe - blackberries, strawberries, grapes, pomegranate seeds, a tiny slice of apple and some grapefruit wedges. There's some redemption in that.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse