Today is my last day in Dublin. The Queen is here right now making the first state visit to Ireland by the British monarch since well before the Irish War of Independence. That means that shit over here is getting kind of 1984. The city center has crazy security everywhere and some roads have been blocked off. Also, the Real IRA (not to be confused with the now-disarmed Provisional IRA) apparently planted a pipe bomb on a bus, but it didn't go off.
This is kind of a surreal ending to the last nine months of my life. But so it goes.
I should be back home by tomorrow evening, if I am not blown up/delayed by terrorists. It's going to be weird after being away for so long. As
101_shenanigans pointed out to me the other day, I could have had a baby in the time since all of you NorCal bitches last saw me!
Actually I'm pretty sure that before I left,
languagegirl was like, "Don't come home from Ireland with a baby, Celz. Just don't."
Little did all of you know, I didn't just have one baby, I had THREE. They are triplets named Telemachus, Achilles, and Ishtar. However, I will not be bringing them home with me because they are genetically engineered half-human, half-cuttlefish hybrids, and their natural habitat is the ocean. I released them into Dublin Bay this morning and they swam away, waving their little tentacles.
If you can't tell, I'm in a really weird mood.