Amy’s Gripping Commentary

Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, which is a national holiday here. However, I hear America parties more on this one than the Irish do. I feel obligated to acknowledge the date given where I am located so I’ll report back on the state of an actual Irish St. Patty’s Day soon. (I still have no internet/phone/TV at home so my access is sporadic and I haven’t read blogs or been on Facebook or really done anything I usually do online in almost a week, and many online things I haven’t gotten to at all since I moved over here.)

The new house is really nice, though the alarm system was faulty and screamed at me Sunday morning even though it wasn’t armed, and then the oven cooker and I have had a falling out before we even met. I couldn’t get the ovens to work at all a couple nights ago, but the stovetop was ok, so I switched the dinner menu. The landlord had a guy out to repair a dead burner the next day and I scored a copy of the manual, where I figured out that the clock has to be set to operate the oven. Huh? Like every other outlet and powered item here, there is a wall switch to give power to the oven. Since the switch is off when not using the oven, the clock resets. So you have to set the clock (which is not intuitive anyway and you need the manual to learn it) to get the oven to turn on. I should have figured something was up when the landlord breezed right through a hard clock setting example operation when I saw the house last week.

So then I tried the oven last night, and after fifteen minutes there was a pop and a flash and it blew the breaker. (Fortunately my pizza was done enough to eat.) I called the landlord today and she said the repair guy had also replaced an oven lightbulb, which I assume is the problem. I’m hoping I don’t burn down the house on the next attempt and I did have a brief brainflash to source a fire extinguisher!

Since I’m already behind at work and tomorrow is a day off where I’m not sure exactly how to keep busy (lacking internet and all), I’m collecting some reading material to keep me occupied. But now it’s time to go home (long after everyone else) and drive my new car! They swapped my rental for my lease vehicle, a diesel VW Golf with 500 km on it. Now I’m worried my bad lefthand driving will scratch up a brand new car.

Note: I think Seamus (“shaymus”) is a funny name.

Wednesday night I developed a sore throat. By Friday morning, my baby sinus infection was much worse, and I got desperate enough to figure out the employee health services since I only had a couple Sudafed left from home and wasn’t sure what I would find at a pharmacy (which all close by six p.m. anyway). My doctor in Indianapolis is very stingy with antibiotics and would wait until I had green stuff coming out of my head before she’d give me anything, so I’ve gotten in the habit of waiting out some of these horrible sinus things with cold medicine and throat spray, because by the time I’ve had that green symptom I’ve already been sick for five days and it seems kind of pointless to bother with it then. (Sometimes this backfires into a three-week illness but other times my immune system catches up in a few more days.) Anyway, the nurse at the health center couldn’t give me much more than “Sinutabs” (which were much appreciated), and acknowledged I needed an antibiotic, but she did give me the name of a clinic in town, which is more information than I had when I went in there. At this point I still had to work the rest of the morning, then get the keys to my house, move in, and accept/unload delivery of my big shipping container. But at least I had the afternoon off, so I called the doctor place, and got an appointment for quarter to five.

Except after successfully wandering around Kinsale making sure I could find the clinic, scoping out the pharmacy (also called a “chemist” here, but the building still says pharmacy), getting a few groceries, and determining if I had enough cash for the doctor and the rest of the weekend – I get paid Monday which will be the first time there is money in my Irish bank account, and the ATM percentage charge off my American bank account is annoying — I arrived at the clinic at 4:20 to find out my appointment had been at 3:45! I guess I just didn’t understand the accent on the phone and while the receptionist seemed annoyed, I asked if I could at least fill out the forms to be a new patient so I could establish a GP somewhere. I guess you need GP blessing to go get any other medical work done anyway. She handed me a slip that consisted of my name, DOB, address, and phone numbers. That was it! I thought I would get the full six-page questions with a nurse later but I never did. It was kind of weird not to detail my history for a new doctor… even my root canal guy at home wants every detail since I was born.

She still seemed annoyed but said she would try to squeeze me in since I said I was really sick, and I went into a waiting room which was a little dumpy like the rest of the place, but I felt too crappy to even read the magazines and listened to a three year old bother everyone else in a cute way. After about fifteen minutes someone called me (I think it was the actual doctor, again no nurse in this setup), and I went in his office and explained how I’d just moved there and that I had a sinus infection and what the symptoms were. He took a VERY brief history right into his computer, which was basically what meds I was already taking and if my immediate family had any major illness history. Not even height and weight, but heck, this was pretty awesome to get right in and have him proclaim I needed an antibiotic. He did check ENT areas and when he listened to my lungs he kept saying “excuse me” as I lifted my sweater jumper, which was also a little funny. I guess this is where the super-politeness comes in; my doctor at home never “apologizes” for each move of the stethoscope. He even apologized that it might not have been my fault for misunderstanding the accent when I apologized for being late to my appointment!

Dr. Tony Somebody also asked how I was doing with the move and being away from home and suggested being on airplanes and the big stress of moving could have contributed, though we also discussed how many of these stupid infections I’d had before. I liked that he listened to me and seemed to respect that I know my particular history with this affliction well, something I don’t always get with my home doctor. By this time I was practically in tears anyway, being so sick and having such a LONG day already (I did successfully move into the house and get my shipment), so I was glad he not only wrote a prescription but that he also was happy to write others for meds I already took if I just brought in my current containers, no third degree to reestablish my various ailments to be deemed worthy of medication. Most of what I’ve taken recently seems to have a different name in Ireland, so we worked out some of those differences and I ended up with name brand Augmentin for under €12. The actual visit cost €50 and they don’t seem to file your insurance for you (while it’s true there is some form of national health insurance, many Irish people buy private insurance too). I would have had to file my own anyway with the new international insurance I’m supposedly on. I can’t seem to get any info on the plan and I don’t know how/where to file a claim yet.

At the pharmacy I also found actual Sudafed (hooray!), though they didn’t have a generic, and some sore throat spray, and that stuff is so strong it almost hurts more than the ailment it treats. Much of the OTC stuff is behind the counter so you have to ask them to get it for you. The pharmacist pronounced my name correctly, which makes him the second person since I arrived to do that. I kind of thought Europeans might get the whole German spelling/pronunciation right more often, but not so far. The other guy who got it right was a Polish guy on the IT help line at work. I need to find more Poles and test the theory for other parts of the continent.

I had dinner plans with other Americans from work at one of their homes and sniffled my way through that. Despite being ill, I’m glad I went, not only because they had a dog and a cat but because even this introvert gets tired of eating in a restaurant by herself every night. Some nights I just haven’t eaten because it seemed too much of a hassle and too depressing to walk into town for food I couldn’t store as leftovers anyway, and I was never that hungry after the big lunches at work.

I spent an hour or so unpacking enough things to have pajamas and bedding and slept pretty well that night with all my drugs. The next adventure: driving to Cork to shop for household goods. I survived, but you’ll have to read about that next. Also, I have no phone, TV, or internet yet, and I’m going insane. If you are reading this I must have stolen a wifi connection somewhere.

World’s End is the name of the location or neighborhood or whatever this place is. I’m staying in the Trident Hotel, and that’s their address. A lot of the homes and businesses here don’t seem to have (or at least use) numerical addresses, just names like Old Head and Seaward and Highlanes Gallery. I’m glad I’m not delivering pizza here. Also most streets don’t have signs with the street name, just arrows pointing to various named shops and points of interest. My GPS SatNav goes by street names, and they’re on maps, but not actually posted in public. Very confusing.

I’m moving into my house tomorrow, but the phone and internet connections could take a few to several days, so I may not be around much on here or on the phone. Meanwhile I’m fighting the early parts of a sinus infection, but my insurance is suddenly bizarre and the pharmacies don’t stay open past six, so I’m doing my best with Aleve and Sudafed–glad I brought at least a couple things with me. Apparently rather than having a selection of OTC meds on the shelves at any grocery or drugstore, you have to talk to the pharmacist and explain your symptoms and they might sell you something.

Also: Arliss has a Twitter account now too! She’s advanced past my own level of connectivity. I expect I’ll see her cell phone bill on my credit card next. She has a couple new posts at her blog, too.

Pics I took right before I left.

Went to Bandon, a bigger town, to do some immigration paperwork and lighten my wallet of €150 so they can process my GNIB card, which is basically the official permission to be here for a certain length of time. I now have a bank account, too, with €0 in it. I looked at cell phones and then bought tissues at Lidl, basically a German Aldi (though apparently there is regular Aldi here too). Then my relocation agent drove me to Cork, a big city (but not really more populous than South Bend/Fort Wayne type cities) about thirty minutes north. I had flown into Cork last weekend but never saw the city since the airport is south of it. Anyway, I finally saw a McDonald’s and a Burger King in the shopping districts but no other fast food places and none that were standalone/drive-thrus at all. We stopped at a Bed Bath & Beyond type place and then Argos, which is like Service Merchandise but without the examples of all the stuff you can buy–it’s all catalog based and then it shows up from a conveyor a few minutes after you pay. I picked up bedding so I can sleep in my new house on Friday night. I’ll have to go back out shopping for dishes and such but at least I have the basics and my shipping container should be delivered on Friday too.

Bandon had crocuses! I miss watching for things budding in my yard at home.

I kept hearing how green everything would be here. IT’S NOT. But apparently that’s because they had their driest winter in 40 years or something like that. Right now it’s very brown in most places and I’m looking for spring.

Tonight I stopped at a little grocery in town to grab some food to supplement my hotel stay. Matt: they have Orange Juice with Bits! Get the strainer. There are lots of biscuits but not many that look like cookies to me. The eggs are kept on the shelf and you have to pay €0.22 for a plastic shopping bag (finally, I’m not the only freak with my own bag).

I am amused by some of the commercials, including kitten-branded TP that a guy wears to the tune of Kung Fu Fighting.

I’ve been surprised by the number of TV shows in Gaelic Irish. Right now I’m watching an Irish language talent show where viewers call in to vote: stoopid. It’s much like English language talent shows, but the judges are sickeningly nicer even when performers stink, and every other act is Irish dancing. One of those was 40-something moms who all needed sport bras. The judges tell everyone they are brilliant.

I’ve been to work two days so far and only hit a couple curbs (I consider this success). Everyone takes a tea break in the morning (which also includes a lot of breakfast foods) and then a couple hours later everyone eats a big lunch together. The cafeteria has been quite good so far and recycling is the norm. I have to say my coworkers are extremely friendly. I’m having issues getting my computer set up so I’m even less useful than I would otherwise be, but it looks to be an interesting job once I get done reading a LOT of training.

Tonight I wasn’t very hungry after all the food from work, so I decided to get some fries chips to go for takeaway. I stopped in my first real pub, where the locals were watching soccer football. The bartender left right after I placed my order and the cook had to get a beer for an old guy who just arrived. The bartender came back after a couple of minutes with a roll of foil he’d just bought down the street to wrap my fries! Then he repoured the Carling in the right glass (the old guy wouldn’t drink it in the wrong glass though he didn’t say anything to the cook when he poured it) and I chatted a bit with another old guy who was friendlier. Back to the hotel for an unhealthy dinner!

On Wednesday, I am going to the police station Garda to complete some immigration paperwork, getting a bank account, seeing my house (but not moving in yet), and getting up to Cork for the first time to see where to shop and figure out if this country has any fast food places.

Post Office in Kinsale

Harbor shots; all but the first one are right outside my hotel window

That big ship was full of some kind of sand. It woke me up two days in a row when they took the lid on and off. It took them a whole day to unload it into trucks.

This mast has been turned into a tourist lookout point

They disturbed me despite the sign on the door, but I still slept a lot.

Driving from the airport yesterday, we had to stop for some hounds in the road. Shortly after was a guy with a walking stick, and around the bend a couple of riders in dressage with their horses. I can safely say I haven’t run across a hunting party while driving before.

My relocation agent showed me the house briefly, but I can’t move in for a week. Then she led me to the hotel, where we dropped off my car (that was enough left-hand driving for me!) and she took me to work so I could find my way later. The “downtown” of Kinsale has narrow streets and little in the way of traffic signs; it’s a good thing she was driving, because it was terrible to figure out who had the right of way and two cars couldn’t fit past each other in several places. But we made it, and today (Sunday) I made the trip myself, which went fine since I had to focus on driving and not on how close we were to the walls out the window.

On Saturday, I had dinner at an Italian place in town, about a ten minute walk from the hotel after I got lost for another ten (I wasn’t about to drive or figure out how to pay for parking yet).

I stayed up to a “normal” bedtime but still slept too much today, and now I’m up at night again. I made it downstairs for a little breakfast Sunday and was able to find fuel for the car (1.269 Euro per liter, which I think is over $7 a gallon? can’t believe they rented me a car almost out of fuel) and get a few snacks. Sunday’s dinner was at the Blue Haven, a yummy mushroom risotto.

And I bought wine on a Sunday, a brand that is corked at home for $9 but was €12.49 here with a screw top.

The view from my hotel room

Mom: a pay toilet!

I am not a frequent flier, but I’ve been on enough flights to dread long ones in coach. Get this: Business Class actually has enough room! Not to mention free booze and a comforter and a real pillow and THEY GAVE ME SOCKS in my little baggie of personal items (toothbrush and lotion and sleep mask and the like). I think the socks must be so everyone’s stinky feet didn’t bother each other while sleeping. And the food was really good! Noise canceling headphones made the movie and sleeping much more pleasant. The seat turned into a bed, which really only got me three hours of sleep, but they were comfy.

I watched Up in the Air, and I wondered if they played it on purpose to encourage us to fly ten million miles. My airline was the same as the one in the movie. I guess they might get more travelers if we thought we might be sitting next to George Clooney. I think the Oscars are going on Sunday, but I didn’t really find this film to be fabulous enough for best picture. Maybe the first ten minutes I missed were the awesome part.

All three of my flights were pleasant enough since I never had anyone sitting next to me. Heathrow was pretty sucky, and I’m glad two people warned me before I left. The maze of corrugated metal halls was like hiking Battlestar Galactica. It’s like no one planned the space or travel from one terminal to another: it took me a good 40 minutes to get from my long flight to the short one to Ireland, with heavy bags, and all the turns and halls made no sense. Perhaps they hoped to weed out undesirable immigrants by wearing out the weak ones before they stepped on British soil. The flight screens were all down so it was pretty confusing to figure out where to go anyway. At least all the customs, security, and immigration stops were quick and easy.

My first thoughts on stepping foot in Cork: Stairs? Down from the plane and then back up into the terminal, and by then I was really tired and the bags seemed heavier. But soon enough I was speaking with the immigration guy, who was expecting me (now that’s a good relocation agent! this guy recognized that I was on a company transfer when he saw my name on my passport), and after a few stamps and holding up everyone in line behind me, I met my agent and got some cash and was driving on the wrong side of the road! Have you heard of a Nissan Note?

I’ll pick up again later since it’s five in the morning and I’m tired again. I can only sleep in two hour stints but at least I don’t have to be anywhere for another day.

I’ve had a really trying day attempting to book flights and receive documents and fill out even more forms, but this makes up for it:

Arliss has her own blog! Yes, that’s right, I kicked her to the curb while I went on a European adventure for a year and she has already taken over her foster home’s computer to complain about it. I guess she got an even bigger head when she became a famous Disapproving Rabbit.

Please visit Arliss and I’ll try to let y’all know when she posts a new rant. Those are the only kinds of posts she will be publishing, I’m sure.

I STILL don’t have a work permit or plane ticket or firm start date, but I do have a tax number and a verbal agreement on a house to rent. Next week I’ll probably work two days locally but I think my IT changes take effect Monday, rendering me useless on any company computer, which might be a blessing in disguise. Therefore, this weekend I’m transferring and backing up files and emails so I can actually get to the information in the next couple of weeks of transition. Meanwhile, there’s some kind of mini-strike among Irish govt workers and I think my agent had to call in some secret favors to get the permit moved closer to the top of the pile. I expect to leave next Friday! That’s only two delays (one week total) from the more recent plans and only three delays (five weeks) from the January plans. My stuff shipped out on a big pallet this week so I’m living on leftover clothing and computer equipment, but I barely miss any of it. My very helpful agent made a hushed request the other day for Jack Daniels BBQ sauce so I packed it!

We had a big housecooling party last weekend which was a lot of fun and was also good for forcing a clean house! Meanwhile I hit a HUUUUGE pothole, got a flat a mile later, walked home, and had to get roadside out twice for help. The rim is bent and I have to go deal with getting the repaired wheel put back on soon.

Arliss leaves for her Cincy-area home tomorrow. This week’s last vet check shows her in great health and I expect to see her back, still stomping at me, in a year! The pigs went to my parents’ home a couple weeks ago, the frog went to David’s brother, and Vegas fuzzbun leaves in a few days. The zoo is shrinking. Soon the humans will equal the nonhumans, but I still think the dogs have the best deal in getting to sleep all day and have all their meals prepared for them.

A big country house and a castle house have now fallen through with various drama (sorry guys, but at least the pictures were neat), but our agent has found a great place for us a thousand feet from the sea! The fenced yard and minimal furniture will meet our needs well and it’s only ten minutes from work (and a mile from a 17th century fort with star shaped fortification).

view from a bedroom

It was supposed to be unfurnished but the agent talked the owner into at least some beds and chairs, so now I have to come up with lamps and pots and TV and spoons and everything else. I’ll probably be in a hotel for several days to start, anyway, so I’m just letting it all slide. It will be fun to explore and find my new belongings. Flexibility is the central part of this adventure, and that’s a huge step for this overplanner.

The hardest part has been not knowing the date I’m leaving. Without a work permit I can’t purchase a flight, and planning for HR and IT items that take several weeks of notice is difficult as a result. Meanwhile HR and IT and seven vendors need various approvals and forms and knowing the date I’m arriving to set up anything for me, and none of that is established. My pallet of stuff arrives on the island before I leave and even before I have an address for delivery!

Work computing, form filling, inventorying, and banking adjustments remain. And moving all my stuff from the desktop to the new laptop! I like the idea of a simpler system but I did send a real monitor and wireless input devices and my actual office chair. Maybe I can entertain myself in my empty house by rolling around in it.

The other quote I considered was: “She has huge… tracts of land”

One of the properties on our short list of where to live in Ireland is what I’m calling the Mother-In-Law Castle!

The Dower House, Kilbrittain, Co. Cork

It was built in the 17th century for the MIL of the lord of the ridiculous c. 1035 castle across the street!

I keep thinking we need boiling oil or maybe Nancy Drew will stop by and find something under the staircase. I’m already afraid of the wine cellar and the “sub-lower level.”

pics from kilbrittain.net

Been very busy planning the move. My stuff ships out Tuesday, but I have another week or maybe a little more, depending on the employment permit arrival.

Anyway, I found this while cleaning up for a fun going away party:

My first pets and their method of dispatch:

I also found evidence of hours spent at our first home computer, an Apple IIGS, for a school report. I drew a diagram I saw in a textbook, I think around 5th or 6th grade:

And here we have Amy creating a Rudolph-pulling-Santa’s sleigh photo op. I don’t know if we DID anything once dressed like that or if I just made the outfits and had the picture taken, but there ya go.

Today’s Disapproving Rabbit is Arliss!

My favorite comment is that “she’s like a punk rock retiree”

www.cartoonistgroup.com/store/add.php?iid=43479

This tool makes a graphic of how your tax dollars are spent (or were spent as compared to years back to 1940) if you enter your income.
Where your money goes

And everyone needs a giant guinea pig along with a regular one.

Happy 10th birthday, Arliss!!

She had another checkup today and the vet couldn’t find any evidence of the abscess. So unless we feel something else collect under the skin, she just gets to finish healing! No more poking and flushes. It only took three abscess surgeries after the incisor removal surgery and a lot of aftercare to get us here. Her weight is stable and I will keep supplementing her food to make her stronger. She’s been through a lot in less than two months.

We’re pretty sure of her birth month from the story of the person who had her first, plus she was young but full grown when she came to me nine years ago. I just had one bunny at that time: my first, the beloved Luke, who later became Arliss’ pal. My friend didn’t want her bunnies anymore and Arliss and Cow came to live with me because she was going to give them to a circus or petting zoo. Can you imagine Arliss in a petting zoo? hahaha She and Cow had some seriously rough starts under that family’s care; I learned a lot about vet care with my new acquisitions! Arliss was originally named Avarice, which I thought was a terrible name for a bunny. I wanted to change it but call her something that sounded similar and that’s how she became Arliss!

Arliss’ first day home back in 2001. You can see she came with the glare.

I was reading an interesting series of short articles on public school food in D.C. The switch from shipping in pre-packaged individual meals to be warmed before serving to the kids to ‘fresh cooked’ meals in a brand new school kitchen actually means shipping in pre-packaged larger quantities of frozen food that are then reheated in a steamer by people who have never cooked in an actual commercial kitchen before, and everything is served with disposable tableware. They don’t even have a stove or a dishwasher in the new kitchen. The worst is the junk the kids are actually served. It sounds awful in taste and is just marginal in nutrition.

Anyway, it got me to thinking about my own cafeteria experiences. First off: Safetypup was on the milk cartons! His cartoon taught us safety tips while using good grammar. Matches are tools, not toys with which to play. Unfortunately I can’t find any pictures of Safetypup in his cartoon form, just scary costumed people dressed as Safetypup.

I used to keep my lunch money coins in the zippers of my Kangaroo shoes. It was really hard to stand on one foot in the lunch line as it moved forward and unzip my shoes to get the money out. Seems bizarre that I swipe a credit card at the work cafeteria now.

Mom would post the weekly school lunch menu from the newspaper on the fridge, and each morning she’d ask if we wanted to buy the menu choice or take a packed lunch. One of the most humiliating experiences of my elementary school lunch career was when the sixth grade girls (the meanest one was Jamie McCarthy!) made fun of my fifth-grade lunch: a hotdog in a Thermos of hot water, which I assembled with the bun at the table. Mom was creative in keeping the food hot, but the teasing stuck with me for, oh, 24 years now.

Our Little Hoosier meetings were held in the cafeteria. We made Indiana-shaped cookies once a year. I also remember thinking how dumb some of my classmates were during these meetings.

In boarding school we shared a cafeteria with college students. The most famous dishes were Limelight chicken, or Chernobyl chicken as suggested by the strange glowing color, and Tater Tot Hot Dish, or TTHD. The lady who ran the checkout was kind of socially awkward (I guess she fit in with us) and had some classic lines which made it to the Masochistic Board, a piece of MDF we propped in the lounge on our dorm floor, which we decorated with things that drove us nuts and then beat on it with a cat o’ nine tails-like device my mom had at home for distressing wooden frames. It had chains attached to a wooden handle and made a hell of a racket! It was so bad that the girls on the floor downstairs started crying because they thought someone was being beaten and we had to stop attacking our Masochistic Board. I’m not quite sure how it got that name, except maybe because we were punishing ourselves by going to a really hard school, but I do remember the director of student life taking a couple swings at it before it was retired.

Pissed? Bitter? Test your beating skills on the f***ing Masochistic Board! (One of the girls on our floor had a bad emu experience)

Our work cafeterias are decent, but some days are better than others when it comes to veggie options. Still better than school food! I hated Hamette on Bun, which was a common Friday lunch.

There’s a program to fund veg options in school lunches!

I was going to end with a little rant about the pro-HFCS commercials, but instead I recommend a viewing of King Corn instead, which streams free from Netflix.

This post made me hungry.