wish my name were irish

it’s the last week of the program. tonight, i go back to glencree which is this place in the wicklow mountains where they used to house german orphans during ww2 (read: it’s cold and depressing). while we’re there, we’re giving presentations of our ISPs to each other and doing secret santas and filling out evaluation forms and all that good stuff. WOO! there’s basically NOTHING to do there, so i finally get to read vanity fair and bad day in black rock (think great gatsby+the oc in the suburbs of dublin).

then they’re shipping us off to galway, which is the west coast of ireland. when cromwell came to ireland to hate on the irish, he told them “to hell or to connacht,” meaning, “either i will kill you for being catholic and poor or you can go to farm the shittiest land in ireland.” yes, cromwell was one of the top ten greatest britons.

from there we’ll go to the aran islands which are basically giant rocks in the ocean.  and the people there all still speak irish.  and they have sheep and knit aran sweaters.

AND I WILL HAVE NO WIFI.  like rehab for a computer addict.  no gmail.  no daily mail photo gallery.  no google reader.  no huffpo.

back in dublin on tuesday.  fly home on wednesday.