Grass is always greener

Champagne Problems

This Saturday is March 17, known worldwide as St. Patrick’s Day, or “the day when you can start drinking before noon and still retain some level of social acceptance” in Ireland. My liver is cowering in fear and I’m getting just a little bit homesick, especially now that it’s raining
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Trinity College. Dublin, Ireland.

Irish ad absurdum

The murder was announced early Monday and took place Thursday evening shortly after 8 o’clock. This being a widely anticipated event, the Green Room of the theater was packed to bursting. It was difficult to move an elbow, let alone shake a fist. Most people resorted to the incessant nodding
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A flawless view of the city. Dublin, Ireland.

On the lookout for a little Irish luck

I had been in Europe a week before the homesickness struck. It was swift and sudden, like a jab to the gut or maybe like a punch to the heart. I was sitting on a bench in St. Stephen’s Green, a beautifully landscaped park in the middle of Dublin center.
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