And we wait...again.

Last night marked yet another of the many goodbye's endured by Richard and myself. After two weeks and five days of pure bliss (or as close as I can possibly get to bliss), he departed from Newark Airport...leaving me in pieces.

I'm always so unsure about his visits to America at the beginning. My house is far from a relaxing place to be, and I always feel a bit guilty having him over here only to be a total stress case the entire time. But as always, we managed to settle in after a few days, and life became significantly more tolerable when he was around. Highlights of the trip included: family vacation to Fenwick Island, Delaware, introducing Richard to his very first tiki bar (he is now a tiki-aholic and agrees that we should also holiday in Delaware in the summers), drinking a litre of Bushmills with my father at the kitchen table and being hungover for two days after, touring the Yuengling Brewery, attending mass at St. Pat's, going on a road trip through the Coal Region and showing him various family stomping grounds, and, of course, spending hours watching movies (or "fil-ums") in my massively cozy bed.

As always, as soon as I got used to him being around again, he went home. When we got to the Newark Airport, I mentioned to the woman at check-in that he has bad Asthma and may not be able to walk to his gate. Her solution: "do you want to go through security and walk him to it?" This didn't exactly solve the issue, but it did mean I got a few extra minutes with my fiance, so I jumped on it. We went through security and made our way to the gate (which wasn't very far away from security anyway). Unfortunately, the whole "maybe it'll make things easier" plan backfired, and it was a million times more painful to walk away from him at the gate. Any time we've been at an airport gate together, we've gotten on the plane together, so it just became painfully real that we were separating again when I had to turn around and walk the opposite way back through the security line.

So once again I'm on my own. He'll (hopefully) be back in October, but even the short waits are torturous now. I just want it to be next summer so I can go home.

Girls supporting Girls

Planning to pick up all aspects of one's life and move it seamlessly to a different country is certainly not easy. Especially when things like friendships, bills, jobs, citizenship, and moving personal possessions are involved. But I have found so much comfort in a lovely group of women on www.uk-yankee.com. These girls, who are all going through the same daunting process as I am (some have already finished it) have offered me such a tremendous amount of support in the past year or two. Because of them, I have a better idea of what to expect--both good and bad. I also know that even though this may seem like an impossible task right now, they have done it and I can too.

It is so comforting to know that there are still women in this world who are willing to offer each other support and encouragement. In a time where women seem to be constantly competing with each other, it was an unexpected and lucky thing for me to come across the ladies on the forums and I am extremely thankful.

Let's Start at the Very Beginning...

This blog quickly fell into disrepair after two posts almost a year ago, but I feel like I am at the perfect point to resume it.

I have been home from my 5-month study abroad in Belfast for about a week. During my time there I helped the boyfriend settle in to his first house. After months of scrubbing, painting, and sanitizing, the house finally feels like home to both of us, but unfortunately I had to leave quickly after getting it to that point.

The most positive thing to come out of my trip was definitely becoming engaged. He proposed on my last Saturday in the country (I left on Monday) with a lovely ring. It came at a perfect time because I had spent a few weeks prior to that freaking out about how I was going to get back to Ireland long-term after I went home. I would love to do post-graduate work over there, but I'm not prepared to take on even more student loans. I found some scholarships, but they are all very competitive and can't be relied on. His response to this whenever I brought the subject up was, "something will come up." Something certainly did.

So now here I sit in my bedroom in Pennsylvania. Suddenly home doesn't feel so much like home, which is good and bad. I'm having a really hard time fitting in where I grew up now, but at the same time I feel like this is just another necessary step of the moving abroad process. My fiance will be here in two weeks for a short 3-week stay. After that, we will resume the absolutely miserable long distance situation until I finish up with university in May. And then, I can relocate for good.

I've decided to bring this blog back to life to chronicle my last year in America, last year of college, and the daunting immigration process that I am about to tackle. I know it's going to be such a challenging year for me, but I honestly cannot wait to begin the rest of my life in Belfast.

Major change of heart

So the last time I posted on here, I wasn't digging being back in N. Ireland, for some reason. Possibly because I was just really enjoying being at home with Slick. I can say with confidence now that I really wish I didn't have to go home.

This entire trip has been marred by money issues, worries about landing an internship for the fall, trying to finance yet another year of college, and general stress and nausea directed towards my living situation for the fall and relationships in general.

So on the Ireland front, I'm enjoying it again. More than Ireland in general, though, I'm enjoying being a normal couple with Slick again. Once again I have become used to having someone around, and I know it's just going to be a big mess again when I get home and turn to my right to talk to someone in the car and realize that I'm alone. Hopefully this general depression will be somewhat easier to cope with when paired with the fact that I hopefully will be back in Ireland for the spring semester.

I'm still generally unsure what I want to do about my future. Ireland and home both have their perks. It's just unfortunate that I can't combine the perks from each location. I'll have to choose eventually what makes me happier, and that's going to be really tough.

As of right now, I'm continuing to enjoy Ireland. Good tea, mature cheddar and prosciutto sandwiches, lack of heat and humidity, quieter people, and good company. Trying not to think about the fact that in 19 days I'll be getting ready to board a plane back to go back home. And about two weeks after that I'll be moving back in to the loneliest place on the planet: Catholic University of America.

For the sake of colo(u)r, here is a picture. A poorly composed panoramic of Strangford Lough, where Slick lives. We had lunch here the other day and watched people play with their puppies. It was a nice time, overall.

My First Post-- Entering the Blog-o-Sphere

I haven't really thought about writing in a blog for some time. I, like many, went through the LiveJournal phase in middle school. Looking back on it now, it's way too "woe is me, I hate my life" to continue with that crap. Therefore, a new blog is being created.

I guess standard protocol here is to introduce myself. Although I assume must of the people who end up reading this will already know me. I'm originally from Schuylkill County, Pennsylvania. The Coal Region. The people are extremely working-class. So much so, that Starbucks does not exist in the area. Most likely because 99% of the residents would call it pretentious and boycott it. I'm attending university at The Catholic University of America, in Washington, D.C. I love the school. I haven't had a class or professor I've disliked. Despite what my Irish friends may have to say about liberal arts, there isn't one class I've taken that I haven't been able to somehow relate to my major, which is Media Studies. I suppose my major is the reason why I'm giving this blogging carry-on a try. It's also the reason why I signed up for Twitter a few weeks ago. I'm just trying to stay current with new media.

A fair amount of my time off of school is spent in Northern Ireland with my boyfriend. We were introduced by a mutual friend, Ricky, about four years ago. Slowly, Northern Ireland is becoming kind of a second home to me. I guess the overall goal is to move once I finish at Catholic. I'm really unsure how I feel about that plan. It varies depending on the day, really. I try to tell myself the last thing I want to do is become the stereotypical, career-obsessed D.C'er, but sometimes that sounds really appealing to me. Being in charge of every aspect of my own life. Then again, there are also days when all I want to do is finish school so I can move. But, unfortunately, the more time I spend at school and with my family, the more I feel like I need to stay in the states. After all I've been through with my family and friends, it upsets me a lot to think that I'll be leaving as soon as I finish with school.

Anyway, as I write this I am currently at my boyfriend Slick's house in Comber, Northern Ireland. He doesn't know why that's his nickname, but it always has been. Ricky introduced me to him as Slick. I knew him as Slick long before we became a couple. It was hard for me to all of a sudden call him "Richard" after we started dating, and I'm not one for pet names. Therefore, he remains Slick to me. Yes, it does drive me crazy. My parents used to always joke that some day my sister would come home with a biker boyfriend named Spike. Instead, I came home with Slick. It's the same thing to me, really. I blame Ricky for not telling me his proper name from the get-go.

I guess that's really all I have to say for now. I just landed in Ireland about three days ago. I think. I've lost all concept of time with the current case of jet-lag I'm fighting. I'm going to try to accompany these posts with photos. I've also decided not to try to write if I have nothing worthwhile to say. That's the mistake I made with my LiveJournal, and it was soon invaded with surveys and memes and other wastes of internet space.

Anyway, tonight's picture. Slick and I drove into Bangor tonight to buy me a new mobile SIM. Turns out, Orange Mobile have raised their international fee to 1 pound per minute, so I have promptly switched to Vodafone. We stopped at a chippy called Cleo's, and then went down to the water to eat. It was surprisingly nice, despite the seagulls hovering over us and the spides parked behind us in their obnoxious Corsas. On our way out of the seating area, we heard the phrase "Catholic bastards" mumbled. I'm going to be the naive American here and say, "they didn't mean us. Obviously".