Working for the Weekend

Like a hand slipping into a glove, I think I've settled pretty easily into being back. My routine hasn't changed, and won't for about a month, when classes begin. All the same, I was eager to go out on the first weekend back, mostly to see people but also to enjoy the simple pleasure of having a drink in a bar without looking over my shoulder wondering if the cops are after me. The concept of my being underage was so foreign when I returned home that thwarting the standard barriers they set up to prevent the little children of America from drinking wasn't exciting, it wasn't challenging, it was frustrating and tedious. Especially when it didn't succeed. All of my high school chums are over 21, some well past it, so I became a liability, never a good feeling. It didn't interfere too much, my age, but I consider it sweet justice that in three months my birthday will come and pass and no overhyped reward of mature legal status will be bestowed upon me - Ireland is sensible enough to recognize that no magical switch gets thrown on your 21st birthday that makes you a responsible drinker.

It was just irritating, that's all.

So Friday and Saturday I went out, despite having work all weekend, because it felt important to get back in touch with people (even if they barely registered that I was gone), and try to meet some new folks, if possible. After work on Friday, Simon, Louise and I had a few at O'Donoghue's across the street from work. We sat next to a group of American business types explaining the aftermath of 9/11 to some Irish people. Myself, I explained the aftermath of the Larry Craig gay Senator scandal to Simon and Louise.

Afterwards I met up with Kelly and we saw the Bourne Ultimatum. I avoided the first movie for so long because it seemed to occupy the same category as 70% of movies: the ones that come and go, designed solely to draw people in on a rainy day, to occupy, to titilate, to mention the next day with the follow-up: "Um, it was good." Finally it found me; actually it really impressed me. An action movie with a real agenda. While the third was just as action-packed as the first two, it didn't have the same desperate feel: it's never really in doubt that Bourne is going to succeed and the CIA goons will get their comeuppance, but then again it's never really a mystery of who he is at this point: we already know he's a CIA agent who assassinated people. Discovering his real name isn't too explosive. A fine wrap-up, anyways. Please don't make another one.

Saturday, Simon had a DJ set and Queen Kong had a gig at McGruder's, a pub/venue in that hazy space between the Liberties and Kilmainham. The event organizers are notorious for terrible organization, which was really the only black spot on the night: the bands were entertaining and the crowd was good, but there would be points where no one was playing, not in any of the three spaces set up for them, so the crowd would dwindle away and the energy would leave with them. It seems a shame. Tons of people were there from NCAD, Dublin's resident art school, easily spotted by their do-it-yourself haircuts and vague expressions of superiority. Didn't stick around for Queen Kong; they were still waiting to go on when I left (apparently they ended up playing in a hallway, which seems pretty cruel to subject a band to).

At least the desire to meet new people is with me, even if it wasn't exercised that night. I was alone for most of the night, and it seems nearly impossible to approach anyone while alone and not come off as desperate or weird. As with a few other things, the meeting-people thing will improve when Trinity starts.

One thing which I definitely hope will change with school's beginning is the feeling, however absurd, that I'm getting stupider. I know it's a totally ridiculous thought, but maybe I've been away from real intellectual activity for so long that the feeling is natural. I don't feel sharp-witted anymore, or not as much anyways...I read much less this last summer than the one previous, and read almost nothing academic at all (except for the insufferable How Mumbo-Jumbo Conquered the World by Franics Wheen, all about how just within the past 20 years people have started doing irrational, aggressively stupid things...somehow the brilliant answer is good old fashioned elbow grease and traditionalist conservative thinking). I must avoid the TV as much as possible. I must challenge myself. No more Dog the Bounty Hunter as a substitute for real entertainment. If I'm not actually getting stupider, an intellectual workout will at least banish the feeling.