It took 10 minutes for the people at immigration to agree to let me through even though I had like a million documents inquiring as to why I am in their country. It took the girl in front of me approximately one and a half minutes to get through by saying, "Just visiting..."
...Like, cool?
So, there I was, pretty much sitting there at the airport at 10 a.m. waiting for my shuttle to Derry which is at 1:30 p.m. I pooped in a different country for the first time about 20 minutes before I wrote this post. I didn't hate it, but the toilets here are oddly shaped and take a little longer to flush down. These are important things to take note of, I suppose.
I wrote a poem on the plane.
"Tomorrow"
I am going to be in a place
where it is already tomorrow
People here are tucking their children into bed,
others are out at bars
Mingling
with the unknown.
However, I am venturing to a place where all of this happened last night
These people are sleeping
or performing various acts of an insomniac
Soon, they will wake and eat breakfast
if a God permits them with the grace of food.
They have already lived the hours of this date
while I am still present in them
I sincerely cannot wait to see tomorrow.
The Irish people that I have seen so far have a distinct look on their faces. Almost like you can hear their accents just by looking at their faces. When my tan fades I will probably blend in a little bit better. Scratch that...I never blend.
All I really want right now is to get into my little home away from home in Duncreggan Student Village on the MaGee campus of the University of Ulster in Londonderry, Northern Ireland. I want is to sleep. Log-style.
It has not hit me yet just how much I am going to miss my family. I know at the first sign of trouble I will break down and cry at the thought of hugging my mom. And let's be honest, I might vomit-cry at the site of a mustache. The song "You and I" by Lady Gaga might put me into a spin because I will think of blasting it in my Jeep (already miss driving) with my sister Bunny. My celeb smut magazines still smell a little bit like they have been in my sister Stiney's possession.
I already miss all of my friends as well.
However, whatever is to come is meant to, I suppose. I have no idea what the people are like there. I have heard only good things about their hospitality and warmth. This will be a change from the hustle and bustle of the very concentrated part of New England that I am coming from.
Fucking, bring it.
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