DAY 7

I woke up to the lyrics of “Closing Time” this morning. No, we didn’t end up in the bar from last night or some coffee shop, but it’s our official last day at Ariel House and move in day at University College Dublin! Although I’m thrilled about starting class, I’m going to miss the luxuries of a hot breakfast and my bed being made every day. That one goes out to you mummsie.

With that said, we loaded up our luggage and headed out for our first day at UCD. The campus is absolutely beautiful and offers tons of running trails (since fitness will be our priority above ALL else here haha). We’ll be staying in Roebuck Hall, which is the newest dormitory on campus. From there, hopped on the bus into town and engaged in our first grocery shopping experience.

Now. Let me tell you something. Shopping at Tesco in town TRULY made me miss H-E-B.

And I NEVER though t I’d say that.

We had to BUY bags to put everything in, and then the bags were almost too heavy to carry across town and then campus. Where are the shopping carts Dublin? Where are the nice, little “may I help you with your bags ma’am?” lads that have gotten me through SO many grocery store fiascos?

From there, we decided we all could use a drink, so after some wonderful Bulmers and fish and chips at Searsons, the girls headed back to the dorms to get ready for a night on Harcourt street.

There are TONS of other Americans staying in our dorm area, so we decided to make friends with some of the law students from Boston. They had been here a week or two before us, so naturally they knew all the best clubs and wine lounges to meet politicians at.


After hopping around a few clubs, we ended up at Flannery’s, one of the busiest pubs in Dublin that night.


Now, this is where the blog gets a little tricky. In an all out “Carrie Bradshaw” fashion I could elaborate and go into detail about what CRAZY people the girls are meeting or what interesting pick-up lines have been used on us, but that would be entirely inappropriate for a blog of this stature. That, and we're not in New York.

With that said, I leave you with this. He was standing across the bar from me in a sheik business suite (the guy clearly had fashion), and when our eyes met, I realized I may or may not had found my own Mr. Big in Ireland.

We won’t call him that, though.

For now, he will be known as Mr. B. And that’s all I’m going to say on that matter for the time being. :)

Texas Fight.