Home Again

Back home in Ireland after the month long escape I'm calling "Beth Tours 2005". Listening to a Moby Mix CD I acquired in grad school and being transported back in time to those very long days Ann and I spent in studio, wishing we were anywhere but there. Not that it's important, I just realized how much I miss Ann. It's funny how music can send you straight back to a time and place. Forget time machines... give me a CD I listened to during a particular time and I'm there, reliving it all.

I got back yesterday afternoon from the airport where I collected my suitcase from the Great Paris Baggage Handlers Strike. My luggage had a wonderful time in Paris while I was in New York. Seriously, my bag has now spent more time in France than my body has. And it didn't bring me anything. No wine, no pate, nothing. Sigh...I got back to the apartment, remembered the alarm code (very important that) and spent the day catching up with Flatmate Suzie. Have missed her. A lot changes in a month. Our stereo bit it and had to be replaced, she has enrolled in a writing class, started guitar lessons, decided to go to Montreal over Christmas to see her aunt who is here visiting for the first time since she left 12 years ago. She (FS, not Aunt) finally got her black skinny jeans that were impossible to locate. And she has a boy that has a crush on her. Life is good. She made me dinner and rented a movie so I didn't have to do much, which was really perfect; I had no energy left. (And yes, ITV people, she can cook and she does it well. ) And then she finally woke me up this afternoon and had lunch ready for me. What a good mother she is.

As for the trip, I noticed a lot of changes in me while I was stomping around New York. It's funny the things you get used to and never notice. For instance, while at the grocery, I asked the cashier for 2 plastic bags for my groceries. Technically, what I said was "I'll need 2 bags please." They are free in the US. Take as many as you want. But in Ireland you have to pay the 15 cent bag levy, so you need to tell them before you pay how many you want. She just sort of looked at me like "whatever"... What else did I notice?

I gravitate toward an American accent when I hear it. A sort of camaraderie I guess. But I didn't realize I did it until I found myself fondly eavesdropping on a man on the Long Island Rail Road. Yep, in the US with my ears trained to pick up American accents. I guess because it was raining and I was on the train, my brain went into Dublin mode. Couldn't help it.

The food portions in the US are every bit as large as they say. Could not believe how much food was on my plate. Not that it stopped me from eating every bite, but geez... I must have gained 5 pounds. We also have a much better selection of foods. I inhaled every vegetable and every shrimp dish I could find. Dublin isn't big on shrimp (deeply apologetic for the pun there). I live on an island and the choice of seafood I find here is very limited. Fish and chips, some salmon and that's about it. It's just not a foodie culture.

I was the only one who didn't mind the rain and had to suppress vocalizing how beautiful I thought it was. It wasn't cold, just wet. What's the big deal??

I still don't know which way to look before crossing the street. And now I'm really not sure what side of the road to drive on. Good thing I don't want a car here.

I must look different, because my brother just stared at me one night not saying anything. "What already?" Nothing... Weird look on his face too. The next night, he just looked at me with the same expression and said "You didn't dress like this in Texas" which could mean 2 things: A- I was wildly and inappropriately dressed or B- I've finally learned to match my clothes. Since my mother approved of what I was wearing, I'll go with Option B. Although I think it was just that I wear colors here, which I didn't in Texas. I don't think I took one black item with me. I think it's the rain. So much of Ireland is grey that I gravitate toward color. And there really is less black in the stores here. Dunno.

One thing about being an expatriate that I hadn't counted on was the fact that I'm suddenly fascinating. I don't think I've ever been so often described as brave, bold, adventurous, etc... before. Everyone wanted to know what it was like here, did I love it, etc... And I recognize myself in those questions. Any person I ever met who did this, I asked the same questions. You want to hear that it's the best thing they've ever done or the worst, so sort of endorsement so you can decided if it's something you really want to do or something you just enjoy fantasizing about doing. It's really weird to be on the opposite end of it. What's it like? It's like life anywhere really, but with accents. Do you like it there? Most days yes, some days not so much. Don't you miss your family? Yes, but we don't live near each other anyway, so really, it's not that different. What am I doing here, is it different, how are the men, do they like Americans... always the same questions. Not that I mind, it's just funny because I get the same questions here in Dublin. Do I like it, how long will I stay, is it very different from living in the US... It's odd. Like being the least talented rock star ever. Or a reality TV celebrity. Without the nude magazine covers. Cause really? No one wants to see that.

So now I'm back and tomorrow I go into work at 9am. It's been a month since I left. Although I remember my computer password and how to get to the office, I have a feeling it'll be strange to be back at my desk. If they haven't replaced me that is. Coming back from vacation is always a little surreal. But after a month and so much traveling, I just don't know how it's going to go. We'll see. Tonight I'll do laundry and put my things away. Over the next few weeks I'll do the recaps of my trip for you guys. And slowly, life will return to normal. With accents.