Craic heads

So has anyone seen this Twix commercial?
In it there are a man and woman at a party laughing and carrying on. The man invites the woman to back to his apartment, at which the woman is appalled, saying, "What kind of girl do you think I am?" Faced with this question the man shoves a whole Twix bar into his mouth and looks around shiftily, allowing him time to come up with a new plan to lure this woman home. Swallowing, he says something like, "I meant did you want to come over and blog? I thought you were into politics," laying the guilt on nice and thick. "Oh blogging," the woman chirps, "I love blogging!"

The only thing less disturbing than the strong undercurrent of date-rape in this commercial is the idea that people are so excited about seeing the mundane details of their lives on the internet that they will wantonly go home with strangers to do so. Clearly this woman's life is not interesting enough to read about if this is her idea of a good time.

Also her judgement is very skewed. Since when has stuffing your face with food mid-conversation been considered suave? Since when has "blogging" been code for "sex?" Since never, Twix.

That said, here we are again.

I'm back in the Queen's library using the computers because mine is still in the mail and I can't stop blogging. Plus, I needed to check CNN to keep up with the American headlines (they have their own cute, little government over here, too, but I can't be bothered).
Headlines of the day: "Dog brings home child's severed foot," "Hail cannon has neighbors ready to explode," and "Experts 'solve' mystery of Stonehenge" - (love those bitchy quotation marks).


I've met most of the kids on my floor, now, and they're all very nice, except the Americans who suuuuuck. Everyone's younger than me by a couple of years since the older 2nd-4th years don't arrive until next Monday. We all went out drinking last night and had quite a bit of fun. 12 shots for £12 and absinthe everywhere. These young, Irish kids have decided that "Dave the Rave" is a fitting nickname for me based solely on the fact that it rhymes, which is really awful and embarrassing. I've been trying to persuade them that just Dave works fine and is much better for everyone involved.

All of that aside, they're really lovely people. In answer to Sally's question, everybody here does like bizarre American things. This kid wouldn't stop talking about what an amazing movie "White Chicks" is last night.
Yes, "White Chicks."



Everyone really likes "Lost" and "Prison Break" and "Grey's Anatomy," etc. Also, as Rachel warned, everyone looooves "Friends."

Sean will be happy to know that Bill Bailey is also considered a comedic God. People keep telling me that "American comedy is shit."





I've finally signed up for classes and it looks like I will have a million hours of reading a week. Which is alright, because the time in class is very small. I'm taking a class on the earliest English lit, a class on Medieval English lit and a class comparing Victorian English lit to its TV/movie adaptations. I'm a little nervous, but that's probably par for the course.

As for the clothes, I'm merely taking cues from Matt's ability to stay on top of fashion as a starting point towards actually caring what I wear. Like I told Rachel, looking at the kids on Skins was a good start. The thing is that everyone here favors muted and drab colors, which is pretty classy. If I wear anything louder than grey or burnt sienna I look like a neon bum.

Also, if you're not wearing good shoes or a collared shirt you're not allowed in some clubs. I also learned quickly that wearing your hood up or wearing a baseball cap does not mean that your head is cold or your hair is messy, it means you're a CRIMINAL! When I was wearing my baseball cap people wouldn't look me in the eye and they made me take it off when I went into a pub. An Irish guy explained to me that a lot of skinheads wear them (which I am clearly not) to hide their identity from the CCTV cameras everywhere and do mishief. Bummer.

OK, thanks for reading this installment of my boring, boring life. Tomorrow I'll write about Pat the mulletted cab driver, Emma the terrible American and signing the same peace wall Bono and the Dalai Lama signed with absolutely nothing to say.

I miss you all!
Dave the Rave out!