It's morning

Do you ever just feel bored being yourself? As though there is a world of excitement out there is you just weren't so stuck in the mire of being who you are? That's been my general state of malaise and self pity and general crankiness for the past few days.

But at the very least I should write something about what we've been up to the past few days, cause that's all this blog really is: Something to remind myself in ten years or so,
"See look how exciting it was back ten years ago. What a cool, carefree, girl you were! Only one baby? And he couldn't even talk back to you? See how easy that was? I can't believe you ever felt sad, or lonely, or bored. You were living in Ireland! You were traveling or had visitors nearly every weekend. You could go out to the pub and listen to live music and drink pint after pint of the best beer in the world (I'm referring to Guinness here, of course).

Ok, that's not all I'm really keeping this for, but that among other things, and every post has it's own purpose for keeping my sanity afloat. So today that's the purpose.
I hate to resort to the bulleted list. Shall I? No, I can resist.

Ack! This post is going downhill fast. I can't even make it semi-comprehensible. I'm tempted to delete this whole thing. But the alternative to posting something is lying awake in bed for three hours. So let's just keep typing shall we? And now I've just used the word shall twice. This is getting ridiculous. Remind me to never try this, not deleting something you've written, stream of consciousness thing, ever again. No one needs to be subjected to my unfiltered thoughts. Especially my unfiltered thoughts after a couple pints of the aforementioned Guinness and way too much sugar. Did I mention the Halloween candy is not going to make it even remotely close the Halloween?

What was the point of this?

To tell you / remind my future self:

Orrin went over to our neighbors to play poker Friday night. He lost 20 euro. I talked to Sonja online and read the Moonstone until midnight. It has the makings of becoming my favorite book ever.

Saturday, Orrin and I walked to the farmers market and he left to go to a stag party. This involved 15 guys playing paintball then going out to dinner and the pubs outside of Limerick, with the evening culminating in a "Sing-Song" in the hotel bar. This is, as it sounds, 15 "lads", sitting around singing Irish songs from their "home-place" or counties, although Orrin says they also threw in some 80's hits from America for good measure. Can you imagine how much alcohol it would take for such a thing in America? Meanwhile, I spend the day walking around town in the rain grocery shopping; 5 miles or so to Tesco and back home. Yes, I could have waited until Orrin came back home with the car, but as he was bringing his sister and her family with him, I felt like I needed to be prepared for visitors, instead of greeting them with a bare cupboard. The evening? More Moonstone.

Ben, Sonja, and Ian arrived Sunday morning. We visited a little, ate lunch, they took naps, we went for a quick hike in the mountains, had dinner, and watched Crash on TV. I finished knitting the body/shell of my little nautilus toy. Now I just have face and tentacles to make and then I can go on to making something useful like mittens for Silas, since it is starting to get chilly enough for those.

Today, I had an eye exam. My prescription hasn't changed, but again, I was lectured for wearing my contacts too much. You don't think I should actually start listening to these yahoos, do you? Afterwards we drove to Cashel and I played the tourguide. Then we went to Cahir castle where I played the babysitter of the car napping babies while Ben and Sonja toured. We walked around town a little bit, to a couple gift shop places and an antique store. Silas and Ian walked much of the way. We came home for dinner and to craft pumpkins out of dryer vent. Don't ask. If you haven't heard me ranting about it already, just don't ask. We then played a round of canasta and went out to Lonergans for music and beer. In which it was exposed that I am a total loser for having graduated from Purdue and never actually had a drink inside Harry's. Well, that's exhibit Q in the case for my being a loser anyway. See how many more pieces of evidence you can spot in this post alone!

That's all for tonight. Good night. I'll feel better in the morning. No worries.