It's crazy how much the U.S. controls the flow of what goes on in other parts of the world. Sitting in front of me is this great, loud bunch of Irish college students obviously overjoyed to spend time together and shoot the shit. I'm a rundown American, totally weary and literally on my now 28th hour of being awake and maybe on my like fifth cup of coffee during that time period, alternating between wanting to take more coffee because I know I have to push through, and wanting to stop with the coffee so that I'll actually be able to lay my head down in *it pains me to say this* three more hours. Yet here we are in a STARBUCKS. In a Starbucks. Started in Seattle in the, what, 80s? 90s? And now it's here in Ireland. And Irish people are enjoying a good cup of Morning Mist or Daybreak or whatever they call it. And they are in the atmosphere of a Starbucks. Granted, with Irish accents. And granted, the Starbucks man was actually inspired by his youthful trip to Italy and the coffee/espresso culture they promoted there. So really it's globalization and not just American power. But still. It astounds me.
Anywho. I'm exhausted and basically just taking a break from the book, because eyes can only take so many hours of one thing. Dublin is extremely comforting. I wouldn't have thought I would describe it that way, and could go into a whole long explanation of why, but at this point writing is just what is keeping me awake, and not what is driving me because everyone around me (literally) knows that I am in desperate need of staying awake. So far I've garnered that it's not really acceptable to fall asleep in public places. It doesn't seem SO far-fetched---I did try kind of a half-lie-down on the Starbucks couch, including sidling my feet up onto that couch, and closing my eyes.....and when I woke back up very briefly caught the flitting eye of the girl sitting on the couch directly opposing my own....so I stopped semi-sleeping and just gave up the hope of it. The hostel will not allow me to check in for literally another 2.5 hours. If I saw myself right now, and was outside of myself, I would be weirded out. Here is this foreign girl who is in shorts (it is NOT summer here), who is draping her leather jacket around her, reading this weird book, alone on a Starbucks couch drifting off to sleep yet possessively clutching her bookbag. Have you ever dreamt of a bed so blissfully, knowing that even if it wasn't your own, and even if it was so basic, scratchy cotton sheets, that it was going to be perfect the second you got into it?
Yeah. In fact it's even BETTER that I know it's not a hotel bed, and is in fact a hostel bed, scratchy cotton sheets. Oh goodness I hope they provide the sheets. If I have to go back out and go to a department store and buy sheets MARK MY WORDS I will instead march right back to this Starbucks and full out sprawl out on the couch for half a full nights' sleep. Anywho. Knowing I'm saving that money and staying in a hostel is such a positive feeling. You know what's hysterical? Guess where I find good Malaysian food. Yes, that's right...here in Dublin.
No comments:
Post a Comment