Belfast

So I’m having a pretty good time here in the UK. Northern Ireland is lovely, and it seems that I brought with me unexpectedly good weather. Lots of people commented to me how unusual the warm sunshine was. You’re welcome, Belfast.

For the most part, the people I met were awesome. A lot of them were really interested to hear that I was from the US and genuinely wanted to know what I thought of their fair city. Many expressed admiration and apprehension that I was on my own, and I felt like I’d traveled to a city of my own relatives. The first night, I met three older guys who showed me the local bars and told me all sorts of stuff I wouldn’t have learned otherwise. One wanted to grab dinner the next night, but I figured that it would be silly to tie myself up with the same parties two nights in a row, and nicely declined. A word of advice to anybody going to Belfast: eat early. I guess I was still in New York mode and thought that leaving my hotel room after 10 would give me time to grab food and hit the pubs, but that was absolutely not the case. I struck out at all the restaurants I saw, and was lucky to make it to McDonald’s before they, too, shut down for the night.

The next night, I learned my lesson and left to find food at 8:15 (and even that was too late to get food at some of the local pubs that served meals). I had a good dinner, went back to the hotel and watched Dollhouse and the first episode of Cupid (I’ll talk about that some time later), and then went to a couple of local bars. The people in the first weren’t really as outgoing, so I left after one drink and ended up talking with Ricky and Ian, two nice guys who work at the Belfast Telegraph. We chatted for a bit outside, but they were smoking cigarettes and I was kind of freezing, so I told them to find me when they came inside the bar.

As I sat waiting for them, this old, super drunk guy who was actually sleeping when I first walked by awakened and started mumbling to me. I have discovered that it is nearly impossible for me to understand a Belfast accent when the speaker is under the influence, so I gave him a vague smile, told him I was waiting for my friends, and went back to reading on my phone. He had just asked me to join him at his table when Ian and Ricky showed up. He scowled at us and all was well until about a half hour later, when the guys went to grab more beer and I stayed at the table. Then the drunken fossil asked me how much I would charge to go back to his home with him. At first I thought that I’d misunderstood, but he said it again and I realized that he thought I was a prostitute.

I was really hurt and wondered what I’d done to give him that impression. Later, I realized that being a single foreign woman alone in a bar, who then ended up sitting at a table and talking with two local men might give somebody the wrong impression, if that person was inclined to think like a pervert. But, while I realized it wasn’t worth disabusing him of his incorrect notion, I simply said no and decided not to stick around for the pitch. I went over to the guys at the bar and told them what the old dude had said. They were touchingly offended on my behalf, and when we got back to the table, the fossil kept yelling vulgar things at use. Ian, the cute one who looked like David Wright (he’s never really done it for me, but add an accent and I can start to understand the appeal) got up, looking pretty angry, and headed toward the old guy’s table, but Ricky stopped him from going over there, and we ignored the fossil after that.

We stayed at that bar until last call, then went to another one. On the way, I somehow managed to lose one of my pretty new dangly earrings, which made me sad. I pulled out the other one so I didn’t look deranged. Even though we went to another bar afterward, we got there after last call there, too, so I helped Ricky talk to a girl he found cute. Things were going well until she told him that she was 24 and he told her that she looked 28. It was not untrue, but that lost him major points, and it took him a while to recover his lost ground, and a lot of that was due to me. I guess I haven’t lost my touch and still make a pretty awesome wingman. The guys and I parted ways in the cab back to my hotel. I got out to find my earring and had no luck, but I went back out the next morning before leaving for the airport, and found it with no problem! It was a little crushed, but I think that it can be bent back into shape.

I had heard that there wasn’t a lot going on in Belfast, and I scheduled my vacation accordingly. If I’d known before booking how awesome Belfast is, and how relatively sedate Birmingham is in comparison, I probably would have spent 4 days in Belfast and only stopped over in Birmingham for the concert. I definitely intend to go back to Belfast and spend a lot more time there!

The first Jason Mraz concert is tonight, and I’m a bit worried. I’ve heard from a person who went to a concert in Brussels, and he said it was blah, and that’s exactly how one of the free London dailies described the Mraz concerts in London over the weekend. Maybe a day off will allow him to rev up and be on his A game for Birmingham. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

She who hesitates…

I knew knew knew that I wanted to go to Jason Mraz’s Birmingham, UK concert this coming April. I already have a ticket to his Dublin show, but I thought that I might as well see him a couple of times while I’m in the UK and Ireland. I’d even gone so far as to amend my hostel reservation in Dublin to allow me a stop over in Birmingham. So why didn’t I just buy my ticket??? I mean, I bought my Dublin ticket a couple of weeks before I got the plane tickets, so what possible excuse could I have? Today I tried to purchase a ticket, and the concert appears to be sold out. Bother! Now I’m left hoping that 1) new tickets will become available through Livemaster (or whatever they’re calling themselves these days), or 2) I can find a reseller whose prices do not make me feel scalped.

Even if I’m not able to get a ticket, I think I’m still going to head to Birmingham. I read a lot of good things about it online that make me think it will be worth visiting, and that will be something, right? Plus, there is a chance that somebody might be selling reasonably priced tickets outside of the show, although I need to see what the law in the UK says about buying/selling in that situation. Wouldn’t want to run afoul of the law on top of everything else!

No more Mrazzy Goodness

I’ve been to three Jason Mraz concerts in the last week and a half, and I’m bummed that this great period in my autumn has come to an end. I enjoyed all three of the concerts, albeit in different ways.

New York was great because it was the first show that I attended this tour and I hadn’t seen Jason Mraz perform live in two years, and also because I’d never been to Radio City Music Hall before. I don’t know how I managed to avoid this in my 27 years, but it was just beautiful and definitely worth the wait. And!! THEY SERVE ALCOHOL. Sometimes they come in faux martini glasses with Rockette legs for stems. Cute, right? So yeah, I was totally lit up for that show. People were dancing in the aisles and I bonded with a group of Boston Red Sox fans in the row in front of me and ended up dancing with one of the cuter guys for a song or two.

The second show, which was at Brookdale Community College, was interesting because I’d never been to this particular school before. The energy of the college students was pretty great (except for this weird section of people who could not get enough of sitting on their butts and never stood until Mraz told them to get on their feet). I saw a Brooke Hogan lookalike in a way too short dress, and felt inexplicably cheered every time our paths crossed.

The Boston show was pretty fun, too. I was with a friend who is also a huge Mraz fan (and her much less fan-like but good sport fiance), so that was awesome. We’ve been to several shows all over the eastern seaboard (and Wisconsin), and it was nice to be back at a show with my #1 Mrazzy buddy. I brought my camera to this show, but left the freaking memory card in New Jersey. I missed most of the opening act searching high and low for a place to get a new card. Why do stores in Boston close at 7 pm? What kind of a city downtown closes so early? Just terrible. Anyway, I stumbled upon CEX, a British store just starting to appear in the US. It seems that pretty much everything they sell is used, but who cares when you can get a 4GB memory card for $20. Almost never happens at a brick and mortar place without some kind of an insane sale going on. I got back to the show in time to hear the last few songs of Lisa Hannigan’s set. and and took some pictures and video.

Here’s a video I took during the song “Live High.” All you Barack Obama fans, pay attention starting at the 1:15 mark.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4mkn516OK8]

Sick

I’m sick. I’m sick of trying to teach people who have no interest in learning anything, I’m sick of being nice to people who are really just jerks and have no interested of being nice to me, and I’m really just literally sick. I got a tickle in my throat after Saturday’s Mraz concert (waited outside in line for about a half hour, the temperature was in the low 60s, and I was not wearing a sweater), which stayed pretty steady as a small cough until last night, when I sat inside a freezing bar for the better part of 5 hours watching the freaking Phillies beat the Dodgers. Stupid Matt Stairs! Anyway, that meant that today I awakened with my sexy sick-voice, a runny nose, and no desire to do anything as pedestrian as go to work. But I try not to abuse my sick time, so I went in and was convinced by my coworkers that I should use some of my sick time, since I have several weeks’ worth remaining. Before I left, though, a woman came in for my basic Excel class, so I started to teach it. Big mistake. I should have gone home. She wasn’t interested in listening to explanations of things, she wanted to make charts when she couldn’t even format cells, and she then wanted to learn about all the advanced functions she’d heard about at her former job. I understand the curiosity, but why would she go to a BASIC class expecting to learn this stuff? Then she asked me if a master’s was required to do my job,and whether I had one, like “Are you a real librarian?”  I suspect she found me unqualified for my job (which is not Excel instructor, by the way), and she was thinking of applying for it. Good luck, lady.

So now I’m home and am experiencing the healing powers of microwaved tea and TiVoed Monday night television.