Your Passport Has Been Revoked

Here's a good example of hostel dorm room conversation:

Melissa: My face looks fat.
Me: That doesn't sound like something you can fix in 10 minutes.
Melissa: Well, I could wear my hair different. And you're supposed to say 'Your face isn't fat.'

So not only has my passport to ovaryland been revoked. I've also lit it on fire and pissed on the ashes.

I was really going to try to go to Belfast tomorrow. And I was going to keep a secret. But now since the day trip isn't happening, I feel like I can at least share the disappointment. But I guess that means that I will shop and see films tomorrow. When I went to the office where you book these sorts of things, there was a dude in their with the receptionist. When he found out where I was from, he started flashing the westside gang sign and being like "Wisconsin... Westside..." and then he flips it upside down "Massive". I could only laugh.

I saw the Book of Kells today. What was more amazing was the Trinity College library above where they keep the Book of Kells. Imagine what the libraries look like in the Indiana Jones movies. It looked a lot like that. There was a very high arched ceiling. Massive wooden shelves. Books with bindings made of animals. Busts of old dead white guys. I could've sat there all day.

Instead, I went to the slightly disappointing Irish Museum of Modern Art. I expected some found art, single letters on canvas, and maybe some bodily fluids. You know, all that progressive stuff. Instead, it is like children's finger painting. They need to diversify their collection. Maybe I was just let down because I walked all the way to the other side of town for it. In the rain. Yeah. That sucked.

On a much brighter note, I found this tiny little cafe near the museum. There were three tables. Everyone was eating alone. I got my little lunch and sat there with all the other loners (they must've been regulars). It was cute. The old lady running the cash register was an ancient grandma. I loved her and her Irish accent. Man. She made my day.