day 1 - march 16, 2009

I just came up with something. I think there are two main classes of friendship: Lasting and Fleeting. Fleeting friendships are usually the friendships that fulfill a role in a certain time and place and then die off, sort of like a petunia. Afterwards, you go your separate ways and that's pretty much that. Lasting friendships are the ones that hang around even if you're not putting much maintenance into keeping them alive--more like a cacti than an annual. You can pick up with a Lasting friend pretty much where you left off with no awkwardness, very little re-acquainting yourselves, you just hit the ground running. Of course there are different subclasses in each of the main classes (ie. Obligatory Lasting, Fleeting with Benefits, Lasting when not Loathing) but I won't go into depth here. My point is that kp and I are very lucky to have a wonderful Lasting friendship with B and from the moment we saw her in the airport (thanks again for picking us up, B!) we were singing REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOOOOOOOOOD!
Unfortunately B's face is partially obscured by the dream catcher hanging off her rear view mirror (hippy), so you don't get the full effect of her Swedish loveliness.

B lives in Dublin with her bf in a messy wonderful flat that kp documented quite extensively on her camera. Here's a couple of glimpses:

I am very jealous of this fireplace.

You can't hear it, but we're listening to Irish radio in this photo.

This is mb (who is always with us, even when she's not), kp and me in 2001 when B lived in Toronto in the same house as us. She had this framed photo just sitting out in her home!
See? Lasting.
B is learning how to play the cello.

We spent the first few hours napping and giggling and doing a quick catch-up on the past seven years. It's a funny thing to sum up seven years to someone in 15 minutes or less. Try it sometime. My favourite part was listening to B's new accent. When we knew her in Toronto her accent was Swedish/English which gained a side flavour of Canadian over the year we hung out. Her years in Ireland have shaped her words into an Irish lilt and her Irish slang was new and exciting for us to decode. We learned things like:

• press: cupboard
• givin' out: tellin' someone off. Not bein' a slut, as we initally assumed. ie. You came into the room and were givin' out to us because we were all drunk. (you can see how we mistook the meaning there.)
• get on his/her/my/your/each others' tits: be annoying. I suppose because it's annoying to have someone get on your tits when you don't want them to?

After our language lesson, we wandered into Dublin city. We stopped at B's pal's studio in a very old house that was mostly empty with few working lights. If any place is haunted, it's this place. Because we love old things (and because we are nosy) we snooped around the abandoned bits and saw these rooms:

Okay, I'll admit it. Kp did most of the snooping. I was scared of ghosts.

The lock on that door is likely older than Canada.

Kp finally found a door that is JUST RIGHT.

We made it out of there without encountering any poltergeists and continued to wander through Dublin. We saw this:
And walked through Temple Bar:
And after all this walking we had to get HOT CHIPS. If you are ever in Dublin, EAT THESE:

DEAR GOD THEY WERE DELICIOUS.
Bless you, Leo Burdock.
The perfect end to our first Irish day.