It's Fuckin' Cold Here

Okay so I thought if anything, Ithaca had prepared me for the cold. Maybe I wouldn't be the most fashionable kid on the block, maybe I wouldn't remember anything I learnt in freshman year Chemistry, and maybe I would never be tan ever again, but at least I believed that I'd be walking around in shorts in the balmy 40 degree Ireland winters.

This is yet another thing I have been wrong about.

It's cold here. Not the "lets put on a cute jacket and frolick about in layers cold" and not the Ithacan, "when I go out in the morning my hair freezes and I can break off pieces of it cold" but definately enough so that even inside my apartment in a sweat shirt and inside my thirty degree sleeping bag, I'm shivering.

Other things that are different here so far:

-There's a lazer noise when you're allowed to cross the street
-There's no butter on the popcorn at the movies
-When you ask for a packet of ketchup at McDonald's they only give you one, and you have to pay for the mayonaise
-When you enter a restaurant, no one seats you, and they never check to see how you're doing
-In the center of Galway, the street signs are posted at knee level, if they're posted at all
-Asking for a "ride" if propositioning someone
-It's not courteous to tip
-The only kind of deordorant sold in late night stores is spray on
-You have to pay for your bags at Dunnes

Irish Vocabulary so far
-"Off license" means you can buy liquor inside the store but can't drink it on the premises
-"to let" means to lease or rent
-"take away" is take out food
-"mobile phone" instead of cell

It's cold and the ground is always wet even when it's not raining.
That said, I absolutely love it here. It's beautiful and surreal and so not the US. I continually feel as if I'm walking in my own personal "Once" or "PS I love you" or "Under the Tuscan Sun" (only in Ireland)...without the poverty or the relationship fights or the death of my husband or the infidelity thing. It's perfect.