Coming Home

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I came home a lot sooner than expected. My first 24 hours in Ireland were marked by meltdown after meltdown. The rug had been pulled out from under me and I sat in Dublin airport for hours, explaining the situation to my friends and family via FaceTime and iMessage before I caught my bus to Limerick, not knowing what the days ahead would bring.

All of my plans involved me being gone for a minimum of three months. I expected to come home in June at the very earliest. I thought I’d spend Bloomsday in Dublin. But I wasn’t allowed three months. I had a thirty-day limit, but within 24 hours of touching Irish soil, I knew I was going home, and soon.  Continue reading

My Apologies to Limerick

…and to all cities that don’t show well.

I’m sorry. We didn’t click. Had I been staying in Ireland for ninety days, I would have stayed in town and volunteered at the fringe festival, seen the acts and settled into the place, gotten a fuller picture of the city, but things didn’t work out that way, so I scrambled out after two nights to spend the remainder of my days in Galway. I had precious little time, and Galway was more practical, in the plainest and least judgmental way. Continue reading