3/14

I’ve tackled this obstacle about a hundred times since I got here, and I’m getting used to answering this question smoothly nowadays. When somebody here from America asks me what part of the States that I’m from, I’ll tell them simply that I’ve lived all over the west coast: California, Nevada, Washington State, and Oregon. When someone from Ireland or any other European country asks me where I’m from, I always tell them that I live San Francisco, California just for the simple reason that it’s a big enough place and most everybody knows it. It avoids having to explain where Reno, Nevada is and it keeps all the Reno 911 jokes at bay. Most times when I tell somebody that I am from the Bay Area, a typical response would be “oh, I love San Francisco. The weather is beautiful” or “I’ve never been, but when I do go to the States, it’s the first place that I’m going to see.” Today, while getting my haircut at the local barber shop, was the first time that I actually regretted telling someone that I was indeed from there. Never before have I gotten the response “oh…so you’re one of the gay people, then.”  Coming from most other people this comment would sound offensive, but this barber’s expression never changed as if it was just something they openly ask about here in Ireland. On account that I am not gay, my instinct told me to become offended. Had I been a much more snide of a person and less afraid of a bad haircut, this would have been the perfect opportunity to retort with a snappy retort of a question. I think something along the lines of what I would have liked to have said was “are you from Ireland? does that mean you’re a drunk with no long term goals?” It took only about ten seconds for my temper to subside when I told myself “what have I got to worry about? He’s the one in the hairstyle business.”

I politely told the man that no, I was not a homosexual but that if he were to ever go there to not start accusing people of being so as most people wouldn’t take kindly to it.  I then told him that I’m not actually FROM San Francisco, but rather a place nearby that most people here in Ireland wouldn’t know about so I opted for something a little more internationally known to avoid conflict.

Something small, I know. But I thought it would make for an interesting story while walking back to my apartment. I guess from now on I’ll have to be more careful with where I say that I’m from. Maybe I’ll stick to the truth and tell them that I’m from rural, small-town Fernley, Nevada or maybe I’ll just make up a new, funny place from now on. We’ll just have to see whatever kind of mood I’m in.

2/29

Alas, I’m here. I woke up at 13:45 today (hehe…1:45pm)

The flight was long and uncomfortable. I couldn’t sleep and my personal tv didn’t work so I couldn’t enjoy the lovely Ben Stiller movies on the plane. I made it into Cork and have already been hit on by four random girls. FOUR! It’s awesome being “that foreign guy.” I’m new and I have things to talk about and opinions to share that nobody has heard before. It’s neat. I can see why people love moving to foreign lands. Nobody has said anything about an accent yet, but I’m pretty sure it’s obvious that I’m not from around here.

I’m sleeping on Fei Fei’s floor in her dorm room and her roommates are all cool. We’re all the same age and get along fine (at least I think so.) I didn’t spend a lot of time yesterday venturing around Cork city much on account that I was so sleepy and my head was spinning. I calculated it out, and aside from the hour of sleep that I got on the plane, I was up for a good 36 hours. When I flew out of San Francisco, it was 2pm, broad daylight. It quickly got dark as we flew over Canada and then as soon as we all started to get comfy, it was bright and sunny again. That sucked.

I’ve already noticed an abundance of cultural differences, but I think my favorite one was a newspaper headline in regards to a local man protecting his children by “beating off a bad guy.” I chuckled to myself literally for about five minutes. It was on the front page in big, bold print even.

Last night I followed Fei Fei’s friends to this public underground parking garage where they were having this rave of sorts. It was a big party in a parking garage full of people relatively my age. Met a lot of people. Shook a lot of hands. I had a good conversation with a German, 3 French kids, and a bunch of Americans. One girl who lives here in Fei Fei’s hall even used to live in Seattle. It’s crazy how the world can be so small. Get this: her boyfriend back home literally lives down the same street I used to. Literally. She knew the exact location when I told her 45th and Stone was my old house. Yeah, nuts. Apparently there’s a guy who lives here from Reno. I haven’t met him…but I’m just befuddled.

I haven’t taken any pictures yet. My head was hurting really badly yesterday and was in no mood to slow down foot traffic by stopping to take pictures. I’ll get to it soon. We’re going to see the Blarney Stone today and I’m really debating on whether or not I wanted to kiss it. I could only imagine some dumb teenager peeing on it trying to be funny.

Think outside the country

“Every day we’re told that we live in the greatest country on earth. And it’s always stated as an undeniable fact: Leos are born between July 23 and August 22, fitted queen-size sheets measures sixty by eighty inches, and America is the greatest country on earth. Having grown up with this in our ears, it’s startling to realize that other countries have nationalistic slogans of their own, none of which are “We’re number two!” The French have decided to ignore our self-proclaimed superiority, and this is translated as arrogance. To my knowledge, they’ve never said they are better than us; they’ve just never said that we’re the best.” - David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day pg. 157

This is when I feel like looking too much into things. I’ll admit, I’m not much of a patriot to begin with, but I’m feeling even more ex-pat right now. I’ve been listening to a lot of David Sedaris’ audiobooks recently in my car in the place of traditional sing along music. At the present moment, I’m on disc number four of Me Talk Pretty One Day and just finished the chapter of the book that this lovely excerpt originated.

Okay. Back to seriousness. This is a serious post. Stay with me people.

Every morning before class officially started in my twelve years of public schooling, it was expected that my classmates and I recite The Pledge of Allegiance in unison. I never put much thought into it, but what the hell was that really for? Was it giving thanks for all that liberty and justice? Pledging allegiance sounds very cult-like if you ask me. The fact that I said this so many thousands of times without ever giving it two bits of thought makes me feel brainwashed in a way. This and the David Sedaris quote above are what is prompting me to think aloud in the means of a weblog.

Why should you believe anything people tell you? Do you trust everything you’re told? While I like to think the best of everybody, I’m not easily kidded and usually need to trust my sources. I’m not denying that we are the land of the free, but rather raising the question of “says who?” It’s been beaten into our heads every day for most of our lives that we are this wonderful supremacy and it saddens me that most of us just took this for granted. We Americans are born arrogant. We know for a fact that we are the best country with the most opportunities. The place where all the foreigners come to live the life they’ve always wanted. I’ve never questioned this before, but why are we (myself included) so inclined to just roll over and believe all of this? What if our country really sucks and we just think it’s great? The way Mr. Sedaris says this is meant for humor, but it really got me thinking.

If there’s one thing that I do believe in, it’s that all men are created equal. What does this tell me? It tells me that no matter who you are or where you live, you are just like me. You feel the same things I do. Worry about the same things I do. Fear the same things I do. Want the same things I do. Sure we’ve got a number of differences in preference and taste, but we’re all carved from the same wood.

Knowing this, then how come I’ve been so inclined to believe that the French are arrogant assholes who hate everybody from America? Why am I supposed to believe that all Muslim people want to sacrifice themselves for the sake of killing in masses? Does the man at your local convenience store get questioned on a daily basis? You bet your ass he does. All because of a bunch of radical assholes in his home country went and ruined things. Those guys are pricks, yes. But there are racist, ignorant, asshole dickheads that live here too. There are racist, ignorant, asshole dickheads that live everywhere. Remember. All carved from the same wood. Take Timothy McVeigh for instance (the Oklahoma City bomber guy.) He did some fucked up stuff. Is it fair to say that because of this man’s actions that people in Kenya have the right to assume all Americans do these kinds of things? Are you catching my drift?

The only answer I’m coming up with right now is ignorance and patriotism. You are told from a very young age that you are privileged to live in this country. That everybody else should be so lucky to have the things that you do and there are starving children in Africa who would love to have that broccoli right now. So naturally, you grow up as an American believing only what you’ve been taught - that this is the best country in the world.

Maybe there is some truth in this stuff. Maybe we are privileged. I’ve seen what goes on in third world countries and yes it does suck. Yes, I’m thankful for what I have. But do you think that French kindergarten teachers regularly discuss how great America is? No. There are a lot of not-suffering countries out there who are, or should be just as nationalistic as ourselves. We then credit them with being arrogant and self righteous for not recognizing how great we are. I’m willing to bet money that the kids in the Czech Republic don’t salute their flag every morning and chorus “we’ve got some cool stuff, but America’s the free place with all the jobs.”

For the record, I’m not crediting David Sedaris with being some incredible, deeply moving and thought provoking author. I’m also not proclaiming any hatred for my country. I like it here. I’m just thinking aloud how foolish I feel for falling into a trap and believing exactly what “they” want me to believe instead of formulating opinions of my own. I am disheartened.

a few things to be excited about this year

I just spent a minute to think about it, but I’ve really got a lot to look forward to this year. 2008 is going to kick some serious ass. Check this out

in chronological order

*Move to Ireland for a couple months

*21st birthday

*Figure out which city I’m going to call home when I get back from Ireland. It’s narrowed down to three.

*Bumbershoot in Seattle (already bought my three day pass)

*David Sedaris in Portland on Halloween.

I’m starting to get really, really excited. Those are some big events for me and it’s only two weeks into January.

A lack of time

I realize what a petty complaint this is, but it’s honestly something that plagues my mind: I CAN’T BE EVERYWHERE AT ONCE. I don’t feel I lived in Portland nearly long enough because I miss it like crazy. A lot more so than Seattle, which is saying something. But here I am back at my parents house in rural Nevada playing around on the Google Earth daydreaming of the life that I want to have. I want to live in New York City. I want to live in Boston. I want to live in Toronto, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Alaska, France, The Netherlands, New Zealand, and seriously…the list goes on. I’m only planning on living in Ireland for around six months. What happens when I end up loving it there and become even more torn between living arrangements? How am I supposed to find a way to live in all of these places and experience all of the things that I want while somehow managing to make money/prepare myself for the future.

Sure there’s more to life than money, but when I’m forty years old with children needing money for college, how can I explain to them that I lived a happy life full of adventure instead of saving for their futures? Forget about opening all of those businesses that I’ve had the idea for. It seems so selfish to me and I’m torn between all of this. I wish I had all the answers. I truly do.

Dear Livejournal, it’s been fun

“09 December 2003 @ 04:29 pm”

Wow. I’ve come a long way since my first published blog. I remember I had been reading one of my best friends’ blogs for months leading up to that point. I no longer talk to that friend. We didn’t have a falling out or anything. Just went our own separate ways. It’s funny where life takes us, isn’t it?

Tonight is the night that I retire my livejournal once and for all. It’s really weird knowing that I’ve been writing in the same diary since I was sixteen. Just too many memories I need to forget in order to maintain a healthy mindset. Goodbye first crushes, first concerts, heartbreak, dreams, and friends long gone. Thank you for shaping me into the person I am today. I truly appreciate everything that’s ever made a difference up to this point in my travels, but it’s time to start looking ahead and put all that behind me.

It is time for a change. This blog marks a new life for me. The beginning of my adulthood as proven by the written word. It’s a fresh start not being tied down by memories of puberty and phases that I’m glad I grew out of. While I have no regrets in my life, I trust you’ll understand why this “fresh new outfit” was needed. This blog is a new beginning for me. A chance for me to write what I’m feeling with no regrets. I trust that you as a reader will find me an amusing, in-depth person that is anything but cookie-cutter.

This is my life so far. Set your bookmarks. Stay tuned. The best is yet to come.