Back in Chicago and it feels so…WEIRD



The plane ride home was faster than I expected. I watched two movies and an episode of Sherlock. Before I knew it we were pulling into the terminal and I was rushing off into the fresh air. What I didn’t anticipate was the frigidness of that air. Chicago—why did you have to be 9 degrees when I got back from Ireland?


Once I got my bags I was in desperate need to get home. I wanted to sit on my couch with a cup of coffee and try and relax. However, what I forgot was that I had to talk the Blue Line home—an hour trip that I just didn’t want to deal with. But not wanting to spend about $60 on a cab I decided to deal with the hour-long trip on the EL and suffer through it.


Someone probably should have recorded me coming up from the Blue Line. I had too many bags to carry and not enough hands to carry them with. And I swear the moment my face hit the wind my nostrils closed shut. It was horrible and the walk home was worse.


However, when I finally got into my apartment my best friend was waiting—she laughed at how pathetic I looked and then spent the next two hours listening to my Ireland stories.


Although I really do love being back in Chicago with my friends. I do find myself missing Ireland. And thinking about getting back there as soon as possible.


Bye Ireland…I hope I left an impression on you!

I am so excited to be going home and seeing my friends. I really do miss them. They’re my rock, my second family and my embarrassing partners in crime.

Photo on 12-13-12 at 9.51 PM #3

While, I am very excited to being going home and I think my friends are excited to have me home too.

I have been getting Facebook messages left and right. “When are you coming home,” is a phrase I am so tired of.

But, while my friends will basically do anything with me—from dancing down Michigan Avenue to sitting and watching the Golden Girls with me. The one thing my friends from back home will never do with me is go do karaoke. I’ll admit it my voice is not flawless. Most of my friends actually describe it as pretty “terrible,” their words not mine. I have always wanted to go out and do karaoke, even if I sound awful doing it. So after a failed attempt last night to find a karaoke bar, I have finally found one.

And I am planning to sing my little heart out. I’m hopeful this Korean BBQ place might actually have some decent music as well, classic rock anyone? If you do hear anyone belting out music from Anastasia in Dublin tonight, it is probably me.

Anyways, as my last night in Dublin comes to close I am a ball full of mixed emotions—several ones I cannot even describe. But I guess that’s the life of a traveler. Peace out girl scout!

Can I live here?

I think there may be something magical about Dublin. I mean leprechauns used to roam here once upon a time. Right?


I don’t know if they actually did. But I wouldn’t be surprised to see a little green man walking around. Especially if he was saying things like:

“Where’s me pot of gold,” or maybe. “How you doing today wee lassie.”

I don’t think I have actually gotten the Irish tone of voice down yet. I’m trying though so that is what counts.

So far this trip has been one thing after another.

Waking up at 3 a.m. the second day was not my idea of a good time. However, seeing the sunrise that morning cemented my idea that this city is too much for words. Especially, when I went walking that morning and got several “hellos,” and a few “good mornings,” from other early risers.


But I’m tired I must admit it. And I can’t even begin to describe how it feels to walk down the streets of this city. It’s wonderful and I never want to leave. I’ve told my friends and family that, which they reply with stuff akin to:

“You’re crazy,” or “You better come back.”

Which, obviously I will. Going rogue in Ireland and staying here with no money and no sort of job probably wouldn’t be the best idea I have ever had. But I do want to come back.

I haven’t had a chance to really see the city or what is outside the city. I have eaten the food and dealt with the weather. I’m such a trooper.

So a second trip is in order, a trip that gives me a chance to see what I came here to see. And find myself a leprechaun.

Packing and Prepping…Ireland awaits

Ireland. It is finally here. I have been thinking about this trip for about a month. I think my friends are getting sick of me talking about it.

“I’m going to Ireland.”

“We know,” this is the response I have heard for the last two weeks.

I can hear my friends growing tired of hearing about my trip (or more jealous) but it seems I am incapable of not talking about it. While my friends have grown tired of hearing about it. I have grown more anxious and excited at the same time.

So while I am full of all sorts of emotions. I have been trying to focus on the things I have to do before the trip like pack.




I am a horrendous packer. I understand that I will be in Ireland for 10 days and 10 days only. However, when sitting in front of my suitcases and my closet I just want to throw everything inside and zip the suitcase shut. But I know that is impossible. I could not pack my entire closet into my tiny suitcase. So I must choose, but that’s easy said then done. Because of this dilemma, I went to the Internet. In the vastness that is the web, there had to be a go-to guide into packing light. I found several that helped me actually pack a suitcase. I never thought I would see the day where I could actually pack like a normal human being. For a moment I almost packed every scarf I own. I didn’t though.



And so, the packing is done. But the preparation seems to be a little more difficult. There isn’t an article on how to prepare to go to Ireland. Not one, which I can really connect to at least.

I am just too excited. I have begun to really prepare for the freelance piece I will be trying to write while we are there. And I think I can safely say I am more confused about abortion laws in Ireland now than I was two weeks ago. However, I am optimistic about delving into this topic once I get to Ireland and can talk to people involved. Here’s hoping.

But I guess I am as ready as I am going to be. Ireland here I come.

And so it begins.

Sometimes I have this dream of being a nomad; carrying around all my belongings in a backpack, traveling from place to place and living out the life of adventure. I then start to think about sleeping on the street and not being able to shower for days.

That’s when the dream usually ends. Ever since I was little I’ve wanted to travel. I did however start to accomplish that dream when I was 14. I joined this program and visited counties throughout Europe.

Since then, I have had countless discussions with friends about traveling back to Europe once I graduate and Ireland was where I was going to start. Now that I have this amazing opportunity to travel to such a beautiful place and be able to take this class has really tied two of my loves together traveling and journalism.

I can’t even begin to describe how I feel about this opportunity but at the same time it has not hit me yet that I will be a world away covering a topic that means something to me and is potentially a huge social issue. I look forward to tasting the culture, feeling the sights and really experiencing everything with open arms.

I think what I’m the most excited about is getting away from Chicago. Don’t get me wrong, I love the city but it’s definitely time for me to get away. I’m not looking forward to being stuffed in a metal tube flying over the ocean though but I guess I can’t complain because with good comes bad I suppose.