Just a Small Town Girl

I've done it. I moved out of my first Irish home. It felt like I was leaving the country. Actually it was a good weekend. Flatmate Suzie, now Former Flatmate Suzie, was home downloading music and playing DJ for me which was fun. She dedicated several songs to us, as any good DJ would. For me, she played 'Small Town Girl' by Journey and then we sat on the sofa, took photos and listened to the ultimate break-up/make-up song 'Open Arms' also by Journey. She also played Loverboy, Pat Benetar, Billy Idol, Edith Piaf... all the important rockers from my childhood. Except Ms. Piaf of course. Didn't hear of her until much, much later in life. And she's not really a rocker in the traditional sense. So anyway, back to the big move out. She downloaded, I packed, we occassionally broke for a little singing and dancing. She downloaded some Swing (we all know how I feel about Swing) and we found that both our mothers raised us on a steady diet of the Chattanooga Choo-Choo and Mr Sandaman. And that we neither of us know all the words. It just didn't feel like I was moving until the time came to take the boxes down to the van and head out. We hugged and wimpered a little, and she called me the next day to see how my first night went. I'll be stopping by for tea this week sometime. It's almost like we went thru the most amicable break up in history. And I can't help but feel a little sad. Ok, truth be told, (because what doesn't delight you more than my utter humiliation?) I've found myself making romanticized comparisons to the new roommate, Alyx (prounounced Ah-leaks; it's French evidently), who has been dubbed American Roomie. Examples include: FS didn't care where I put my things in the kitchen. This house is much colder than my house. FS would have offered me a cup of tea. I know, I know... I had a stern talking to with myself and I've nipped it in the bud. I'm keeping an open mind and I'm ready to roll with the punches (metaphorically speaking, no actual punches have been thrown) As for the commute I was so dreading, it's nothing. It's actually so easy I found myself giggling on the way here this morning. The hardest part is getting the 9:00 train instead of the 8:55 train, which has too many passengers and not enough seats. I can handle that. Plus I get to see the sea every morning. It's wonderful.

So the unpacking begins. And the cursing and swearing. I used to own that, where is it? Why won't this fit? I can't believe I moved that with me... I have my list of things I need to purchase to make life bearable, the first of which is a chest of drawers and a full length mirror. I need to start exploring my new town, staking out a pub to call my own and checking out the local talent. But that will have to wait until after I get back from Paris this weekend. So much to do...