Well, after girlfriend goodbyes, countless Wal-Mart runs, and arguing with Sprint for a few hours about my coverage in Ireland, I finally started packing at approximately 6:45 this morning.
Honestly, I have no idea how I woke up that early (especially since Boo insisted we hit up Mexican Martini Madness one last night before I left). Except that there was this voice in my head that kept pestering my dreams, “Ashley, Ashley get up and get your life together!”
No. This wasn’t my conscience or my roommate knocking at my door, this was the voice of my mom.
I accidentally booked 24 hours earlier than everyone else in the group. Therefore, by her standards, I was doomed to a day of pick-pocketing and kidnapping in Ireland. The Irish mob would NO DOUBT pick me out of a crowd and make it their duty to still my passport, camera, and entire backpack (all in broad daylight granted). Due to this booking fiasco I’m going to stay in Abigail’s Hostel for the first night. This, also by mom’s standards, is “completely crazy.” Hostel’s are apparently only for groups of people who are superb backpackers and have explored the world.
“Haven’t you ever seen that movie?” she said to me.
To appease her and my own stress, every single piece of luggage has one lock on it…including my purse which has a very intimidating “you’re not getting in here” pink one.
Yes, I’m aware that this is crazy, but that’s what happens when you pack the morning of your one month trip across the world.
After two security searches, a newly purchased dark-green airplane blanket and a McDonald’s Happy Meal in the Newark turmoil, I finally got on my flight to Dublin at 10:30pm.
*SIDE-NOTE TO MUMMSIE- Yes, I changed out of my Nike shorts as soon as I arrived. I put on my Fedura and jorts, fully disguised from any pick-pocketers.
So with that said, I’ve arrived in Dublin safe-and-sound and am about to embark upon the streets as we speak.
Stay tuned for my lonely adventures in the Temple Bar District.
Texas fight yall.
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