Update

To all the concerned people who've been sending me emails: Yes I have found a new place to live and will move in on monday and my knees are fine. The bruises are almost gone now. Just in time for me to get new ones on sunday...

On thursday, Carmel and I went to the Jack Johnson concert at the point. He played well, but the point was just too big for his kind of music. Too bad.

Tonight: Saw Doctors
Saturday: Violent Femmes

Yes, yes I know, but it's to console myself for not being able to dress up as a jellyfish or lighthouse this weekend and enjoy 'carnaval'. It's the first one I'm missing since I was 1 year old and my parents dressed me up in a clown's outfit with a wig that could have fit my little head twice and took me with them to the pub. Never too young to learn I guess.
So when my friends are listening to the best tearjerkers dutch music has to offer performed by a band called ziek, zwak en misselijk(ill, weak and nauseous), I will be moving house and trying not to think of what I'm missing out on.

Dear knees,

Please bare with me for a little longer. Just one more poledancing class to go and I promise I'll be nicer to you after that....

Thanks,

mariekschen

(great) Irish inventions part 3: cheddar cheese and crisp rolls

Ehm well yeah. After a series of pleas and hints from my flatmate Karen, I finally gave in. "Yes I will eat a crisp roll if that will make you happy."


Ingredients:
French roll
butter
three slices of red cheddar cheese
2 small packets of 'tayto' crisps (it'll have to be tayto because they are the real Irish crisps)in cheddar cheese and onion flavour

Ok, so the butter, cheese and one packet of crisps all go into the roll. Take a bite. Fill the gaps that are left from the crisps falling off with new crisps from the second packet, or just eat the contents of the second packet along with the roll.

So, apparently this is amongst the finest that Irish cuisine has to offer. I must agree, but that does not mean I'll eat it again.

Children, try this at home if you must, but don't say I didn't warn you!

About shit hitting the fan and Murphy's laws and all that

When things start to go wrong, it's only a slippery slope to complete and utter mayhem.
Last week I caught my flatmate Mark trying to sneak out of the house with all his belongings. Ok, you're moving out, thanks for letting the rest of us know. The next day, the landlord rang to tell us that Mark had not paid his rent for the last two months and was not answering his phonecalls. We had to do something about this, otherwise he would make us pay those two months. Ofcourse we told him to take a jump (not in those words obviously) and that it was definitely not our responsibility that someone else did not pay his rent. Yesterday he rang again to ask if we'd heard anything from Mark, and to our negative reply he answered that he was moving back into the house himself and we'd have to be out by the end of the month. Great. Especially since that's in two weeks. Eventually we got an extension to the end of March, but still.
Not only do I have to find a new place to live AGAIN, but I also have to leave my perfect location with DCU just across the road, my nice double room and nice flatmates.
Back to square one I guess. Not a happy bunny at the moment.....

Campus Life part 9: Rag week

They do try to keep us occupied, I must say. This week is Rag week and by the looks of the programme, it'll be about a 100 times better than the one in Maastricht. Bands every night, a trip to a secret location, and four people will be living in a red mini cooper for a week (mini-brother). Two of of the bands performing were actually nominated for a national music award last week. Just too bad for them that it was in the "best band" category aka: the "ah feck it, U2 is nominated too so we might as well go home" - category. But still, whether you like their music or not, they apparently are amongst the best Ireland has to offer at the moment.
On Thursday Karen, Kirsty and I are going to see Turn and Aslan play at the student union (make our contribution to the good cause).

Karen: You know those ugly highrise buildings you can see if you look further up the road?
mariekschen: Yes, where those horses run around without any fences around them.
Karen: exactly. Well that's Ballymun and this Aslan song is the Ballymun anthem.
mariekschen: ehm how come?
Karen: well it's basically the unmarried teenage mothers' anthem
mariekschen: ghe, well I guess that would about sum up Ballymun for you.

Campus Life part 8: Shag week

Yes, I was just as surprised as you are. It's shag week at DCU this week. All I know so far is that is has something to do with sexual awareness, speed dating and Ann Summers parties.
Since my lectures are staring again today and most of the events will be held when I'm listening to interesting talks about science, media and film, I doubt that my knowledge concerning this 'interesting' week will exceed what I know now, but I will keep you posted.

Oh next week is ragweek. I'm probably the only one that did not already know, but apparently 'rag' actually stands for raise-a-grant.

6 Nations here I come!

Saturday was the kick off of the annual 6 nations rugby tournament. What basically happens is that France, Italy, England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland play against eachother over the course of a few weeks and the rugby fans get hammered and have a great time. Fortunately Rachel's uncle had spare tickets to the Ireland vs Italy match and thought she and a friend might like to go. So lucky us!
Dressed in an Ireland Rugby jersey and green hat and memorising the words to 'Ireland's call' on the bus to Landsdowne Road stadium, I was all set to be an honorary Irish lass for the day.
Apart from the two fourty minute halfs the teams are playing rugby on the field, there is much more to a rugby match. The pre-match rituals are as follows: Dressed in your team's jersey, you either walk from town down to Landsdowne road and stop at every pub along the way for a pint or you take the bus down. When you arrive at the stadium, there is a guinness tent (main sponsor of the Irish rugby) with a band playing Irish songs and the only drink they serve is guinness and lager. So you'll obviously have to spend some time there drinking a pint and singing along to the Irish Rover and the Fields of Athenry. Then it's time for a hot whiskey to keep you warm and find a place inside the stadium to watch the match. The Italian national anthem and Ireland's call are shouted out by fans and players and then the games can begin.
Even though Ireland did not play well at all and the referee was 'shite', we beat Italy and everyone could happily return to the Guinness tent for more beers and Molly Malone's. And that's where the post-match starts. Following the fine Irish tradition, this involves more beer, jokes and silly stories. First at the stadium and then in every pub on the way back to the city centre.
Rachel and I ofcourse could not quite ignore this and went on a pub crawl ourselves, talking to crazy Australians and even crazier Galwegians.
Good craic so it was.

Oh and I found out that the Dublin equivalent to Dutch hockey girls are D4 girls. D4 being the postcode for the area south of the Liffey where they all live apparently....

Quote of the day:
Rachel: "Hey, how come those Italians aren't as shite as they are supposed to be!"

the band in the guinness tent. Their microphone stands all have a little pint-holder. They managed to empty a pint every other song.


Rachel and me before the match in the guinness tent, wearing about 25 layers of clothing for insulation


Huge Irish and Italian men playing rugby


Rachel and I during half-time

"I went out for a video and came back with a tan"

Yesterday, Carmel Julie and myself went to a Bell X1 concert at the RDS.
When they were still called Juniper, they were Damien Rice's band. After he left and got famous as a solo artist, they changed their name in to Bell X1 and became the most recent best thing ever to have come out of Ireland.
Oh and they also made it to "the OC" soundtrack. horray for them!

Anyway, the concert was great, the music too ofourse...

quote of the night:
"This one's in honour of the arrival of Starbucks to Ireland. What's wrong with a nice cuppa tea, folks?!"

Bruised and battered

There's a bit to this pole-dancing business. Never knew that you can bruise your legs and knees without falling on the floor first or having your sister bump into you and knock you off your bike after a night out during Carnaval.
I have nice purple-black bruises on the inside of my right knee (original or what?!), the front of both my knees and the inside of my lower thighs. So happy it's not summer...

Glendalough

My friend David had some time off (or maybe just denied that he didn't really) and came to visit me for 3 days. Browsing the travelbooks for something nice and close to Dublin to visit, we came across Glendalough.
Glendalough (Valley of the two lakes) is situated south of Dublin in County Wicklow and is the site of an ancient Monastic city (6th century) of which the ruins and a few buildings remain. A priest named Kevin once came to the beautiful valley to live in absolute isolation as far as possible from any people, but the word spread and followers flocked the area. All ofcourse unaware of the irony that they wanted to hang out with a hermit who moved there to be as far away from everything as possible.
Anyway, a settlement and monastery grew and our Kevin became a saint. And now tourists flock the remains of the city in summer. Luckily the tourist season does not encompass January, so except for a group of Americans we had the place all to ourselves.
Some pics:

St Kevin's Church


The Round Tower as seen from the Lower Lake


Reefert Church


The cave called "St Kevin's Bed" as seen from across the Upper Lake. The story goes that a naked women tried to seduce St Kevin here, but he rejected her by throwing her into the lake.


And of course a nice view of the Lower Laker with some sheep

Bliss....

All my assignments are done, handed in and never looked at again (by me that is). Time for a whole bunch of nothing. Or well, nothing... there are movies to see, museums to visit and Rachel and I have started our pole-dancing course. I know, I know, but it's been on Oprah, one of the desparate housewives does it and it's good for your arms and abs. And it's also good fun with very normal people, of whom none is aspiring a carreer in the matter.
The rest of the time I'll just do absolutely nothing until february 6th. sigh....

I love it when unknown neighbours get Christmas presents I can use!

When I got back to Dublin, I was happily surprised when my cute and shiny iBook told me I could connect to a public network called 'swarder'. So somebody in my street I have probably never met got wireless broadband for Christmas (I guess, since the connection wasn't up before I left) and doesn't know he/she should secure the network. Until they find out, mariekschen is happily surfing away. Horray for Irish people discovering technology!
slainte

The one about the day we nearly went to Paris

January 1st is a peculiar day. Waking up with a slight (or not so slight) hangover, making your way downstairs to find what's left of last night's pre 12 o'clock eating and drinking feast and eat whatever is left over from the pile of oliebollen. And then back to bed.
This year I heard Marjon cleaning up the kitchen and decided to join her. A bit later, Rogier had found his way out of bed as well and it was time to put the croissants in the oven. Yumm.

Rogier: How about having real croissants in Paris tomorrow?
Mariekschen: You're going to Paris tomorrow?
Rogier: Yes, it's only two hours by train.
Mariekschen: Only two hours? Why didn't we go to Paris more often then?
Rogier: The ticket costs 82 euros.
Mariekschen: Ah, that must be the reason then.
Marjon: I don't really want to go for two days though. Can't we just come back the same day?
Mariekschen: If it's just going to be for the day, then I'll come with you.
Rogier: We should look into hiring a car then. That will probably be cheaper.

Prices were checked, times and distances measured, Rogier was going to wear his new übercool T-shirt and we were all looking forward to having real croissants on the steps of Sacre Coeur in Paris the next day.

And then the car rental place was closed on a Sunday.....

Rogier: What losers are we anyway? We don't know anybody in Maastricht with a car.
Marjon: Or anyone who would say: sure you can have my car and drive to Paris.
Mariekschen: we are such a sad act.
Rogier: Hmm. Let's just decide now that we'll go some other day.

January 1st is a really good day to make plans like these. It gives your otherwise lost day a goal and makes you feel good about your start of the new year at the same time. And besides, who doesn't like the romance of the idea to just decide to go to Paris (and nearly actually do so.)
So although this once again proves that the Maastricht economy is definitely not a 24 hour one and car rental places have their own logic, we'll always have Paris.

Nollaig Shona!

Happy Christmas!
May yer man Santa bring yis complimentary sunglasses this year...

And of course all the best for 2006!

Mariekschen

The Irish and technology

When it comes to banking, the Irish still live in the eighties. Extremely frustrating. I mean, I can live without internet banking, but then PLEASE don't make regular banking so extremely complicated. I have a bank account number and a bank card that has a completely different number. Then there is the number that belongs the exact bankshop I opened my account at and when I want to do telebanking or internet banking, I'll need another number. Bureaucracy really is a goal in itself here.

Christmas shopping

Oh, how happy I am that there's no such thing as christmas shopping at home (not in my family at least, we're still fans of st Nic). All I hear around me is people complaining about the shopping they have to do and when the best time would be to do it in order to avoid traffic.
I think that I have found the place where GWB will get his christmas prezzies from this year. I'm sure that this selection will keep him occupied right until the end of his term.

conferences and bertie's local

Last Monday our class visited a conference about global warming at the mansion house in Dublin. While waiting for it to start, the big screen above the stage showed us the usual 'greenpeace doctrine' footage of melting glaciers and barren land. And I was starting to fear the worst: an evening of environmental activists with woolly socks who would basically all have the same arguments in similar talks.
Fortunately it wasn't all that bad. Even though the keynote speaker presented the 'facts' and all the other speakers agreed with him, a good number of them had interesting viewpoints and/or original metaphors (we're running up the down-escalator, people!). I can only recall one speech that was extremely far out there. Something with some form of carbon-tax that will result in smaller families and will solve all world problems. Ah well, I guess you have to have one of those anyway.
Unfortunately none of the speakers was willing to say that global warming is not such a big problem and we should focuss on other things instead. I'm sure that would have been a very interesting one for a panel discussion..... The panel of politicans from all the Irish parties agreed with the standpoints of the green party on the issue and I was wondering how far that is from their actual policy.
In the end, there was a some time for questions from the public which resulted in some quite funny bantering between CEOs of the cement and concrete industry telling everyone that their method of construction had a far smaller CO2 output than that of their competition.

On our way back from town, I was pointed at the local of the Taoiseach (Prime Minister) Bertie Ahern. So now I know that Bertie, as he is known here, drinks his pints in the neighbourhood I live in. Imagine Balkenende going to a pub at all, or even people referring to him as Jan Peter all the time for that matter....

My oh my...

Thursday I went to the David Gray concert at the point. Got a ticket on Tuesday after all because someone rather wanted to go to a ballet show. Well, more fun for me!
The concert was absolute class. The opening act was formed by two Mexicans, Rodrigo y Gabriela, who did some really amazing stuff with their guitars. Jaws were dropping all around the place....
And "yer man" David himself was super. Played all the songs I hoped he would play and had the crowd in the palm of his hand all night. Even though I thought I got to the point quite late, a few thousand people arrived even later and I found myself standing in the front and centre of the stage. horray!
Hopefully the two Dutch people who were standing behind me will email me their photos and ofcourse I'll post them to this message then.

As promised:

and another one....

Ok, that does it!

The events over the last few weeks have made me decide to take a stand: I did some on-line shopping and got myself a Free Katie T-shirt.
Previously wholesome Katie "Joey Potter" Holmes let herself in with crazy Tom Cruise, was not heard from for weeks last May and turned up "totally in love" with mr Scientology. Now she's six months pregnant, wearing actual bathrobes to premieres and let hubby-to-be buy her a sonogram machine to self-monitor the baby.
So before it's too late: RUN KATIE RUN!!!!!

And my good deed for this year is ticked off the to do list....

Great Irish inventions part 2: Guinness

No, I did not just discover this. I already knew.....
The thing is just that when Erik came to visit me last week, I finally had an excuse to go and visit the Guinness Storehouse. horray!
Arthur Guinness rented St James's Gate Brewery in 1759 for 9000 years for a mere 45 Irish pounds per year. And thank God he did. Imagine Ireland without Guinness....
What I learned at the Storehouse is that Guinness is not black, but actually ruby red. Oh and the water does not come from the Liffey (thank God), but from the Wicklow mountains. Just for your information of course....
On top of the Storehouse is the Gravity bar, where each visitor can enjoy his or her "free" Guinness and the amazing view of the entire city of Dublin at the same time. This alone is definitely well worth the trip.


Thousands of bottles of beer on the wall...


Yours truly at St. James's Gate Brewery


And as promised a while ago... Garlic and Cheese fries from Supermacs!