Nice to meet you. Now let's date.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about past and current relationships I've had with guys. I've heard my friends and my sister talking about the right place to meet them, and I'm not sure such a place exists. In my personal experience, I've met the guys I've dated totally randomly.

So I thought I'd share some of my stories. I left a couple guys out because my post would probably be about 20 pages long, but I kept in the good ones. And I changed the names to protect the innocent...and to give myself a laugh.

Dairy King—My high school boyfriend, AKA my first boyfriend. Our relationship can pretty much be summed up by cars, Dairy Queen, cheating (on his end), drama, drama, drama and gas stations. Yes, gas stations. Because that's where I met him. On that fateful February evening of 2002, a love connection was made at a Mobile station in the suburbs. My friend and I were at pump 6 and he and his friends were at pump 9 (can't believe I remember that). I was a junior and desperate to find a date for my junior prom because I went to an all-girls high school and boys were quite scarce. So my friend and I had actually been on the prowl that night, driving around town looking for cute boys. Ok yeah, probably not the coolest thing to admit, but whatever. 

So while we were pumping gas, the guys noticed us and came over to say hi. Boys were actually talking to us. Amazing. We ended up making random small talk and then they invited us with them to Taco Bell to go get food. And I can honestly say, I've never been more excited to go get mediocre and somewhat questionable Mexican fast food. I was giddy the whole time. We ended up hanging out the whole night and then talked on the phone the next day and despite a small mix up with the guys (I liked Dairy King, but he liked my friend and my friend liked the guy that liked me), it all worked out. Dairy King and I started dating and the rest is a whole long teenage drama-filled story.

Sligo—My Irish guy. The only guy I've actually met while at a bar. It was September of 2005 and I was studying abroad in Galway. It was like a Monday night or something (we went out pretty much every night of the week there) and my three roommates and I were at our favorite pub, Hole In The Wall. We went out just to have a few drinks, maybe meet some cute guys and have some fun, but we didn't realize that Irish kids didn't go out during the week. The pub was dead. 

So we sat there at a table in a corner, drinking our double red bull vodkas (yikes) and looking like total lushes, when we noticed a group of people sit down at the table next to us. The group was made up of two guys and two girls (all Irish) and they were being pretty loud. And the girls wouldn't stop looking at us. After already having a few drinks, I was getting super annoyed. That is, until the good-looking, dark-haired guy got up and started chatting with us. He asked if he could buy us drinks, ALL of us (though apparently my dear friend A missed out...sorry). I later learned that apparently if an Irish guy likes you, he'll buy drinks for you and everyone you're with. Not sure if that's true, but whatever.

So after he bought the drinks, he slid into the seat next to me, introduced himself as Sligo, told me I had lovely green eyes and then asked for a kiss. Well of course I giggled and asked why, to which he explained that it was his 21st birthday and at that pub it was customary to get a kiss from every girl (or guy) at the pub on your birthday. So what did I do? I kissed him. Within 5 minutes of meeting him. Though I was a bit drunk, it was good and I was totally hooked. We texted the entire next day, went to a movie (Goal!) the next week and dated until I left in December. We actually never "broke up", we just said goodbye to each other and left it at that.

I later found out that it was actually his 23rd birthday the night we met, but he thought 21 sounded like a more interesting age to an American girl. Actually, I didn't find that out until a year and a half after I got home. He sent me a confession e-mail. Hilarious. 

J—The peanut butter to my jelly. My dear, sweet boyfriend, and the guy I'm moving up to Milwaukee (eek!) for at the end of the summer. When people ask us how we met, we tell them it was through mutual friends. We lived in the same dorm sophomore year when we met and we do have mutual friends, so it seems totally legit. 

The truth? That's a bit more embarrassing. I actually had a rather large crush on his roommate, before I even knew who J was. One night, I went out with my friends and we ran into the roommate at a party. We ended up all hanging out together and I drunkenly (ok yikes, I sound like I drink all the time...I really don't) followed him back to the dorm. Well, he clearly didn't want to be anything more than friends, but I made some excuse about watching TV and went up to his room with him. We sat on his futon, flipped on the TV and I passed out. Nothing happened at all, and I didn't expect it to...I was totally not that type of girl. So I guess the roommate got up and went to his bed, leaving me sound asleep on his futon. 

J was working late that night and got home to find me, a girl he didn't know, sleeping curled up, shivering in a little skirt and tank top. So he very kindly covered me in a blanket so I wouldn't freeze. The next morning I woke up, not knowing where I was and got up quickly to flee the room. J was laying on his lofted bed, looking down at me. He asked me if I was alright, but I freaked out, grabbed my purse and ran out the door without saying a word. Really classy, I know.

I later found out through mutual friends (see they do tie in somewhere), that J kept asking about me. We became close friends and even went on a few dates, but it wasn't until I got back from Ireland and after I'd said goodbye to Sligo that I started dating J. And we've been dating ever since.

Talking about the guys I've dated opens up a whole can of worms. Yikes. I saw Sligo last summer for the first time in almost 3 years, which was....I don't know how to describe it. Bittersweet, I think. I haven't seen Dairy King since summer 2003, though my mom runs into his mom occasionally. Hmm, perhaps I'll have to share more guy stories sometime soon, now that this got me thinking...

I'm obsessed with green

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

In honor of my second favorite holiday, I thought I'd post some of my very favorite pictures featuring the star of the day: Ireland (well, kind of...sorry, St. Patrick)

Second trip to the Cliffs of Moher

View from the Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary

View from the side of the road near Dingle

Sheep. Lots and lots of sheep everywhere you go.

I miss Ireland. I can't wait to go back one day. Everything is just so green and vibrant and lovely...

Ok wow, sorry, got all nostalgic there. 

So now I have a question for all of you. Since I'm heading on vacation on Saturday, I need some good books to read. While I normally love reading Jodi Picoult and Phillipa Gregory books, I'm looking for something a little bit lighter and and a whole lot funnier this time (not that I don't love balling my eyes out on the beach). Maybe chick lit (love Shopaholic) or maybe not...I just want an easy, fun beach read that keeps me entertained. 

So if anyone has any good suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Thanks a million!

Not-so-Kodak moments, European style

The other day I was feeling all nostalgic and decided to look through the pictures I took while I studied abroad in Galway, Ireland in fall 2005. And they made me laugh out loud. So I thought I'd share some of my favorite bizarre pictures, since everyone likes looking at pictures, right? If not, just pretend. 

Please note: These were taken over 3 years ago. My hair was frizzy and terrible (hey, it rains A LOT in Ireland) and I gained about 20 pounds over the course of my 4 months there, which you might notice in the pictures. Sick, I know, but we ate and drank to our heart's content, so I'm surprised it wasn't more.

Pretending to sleep at an ancient burial ground in the Burren. We were trying to be peaceful, but I couldn't stop laughing. And now I'm afraid my mockery earned me a one-way ticket to hell. Whoops. Next time I'll just stick to snapping pictures of the painted sheep.

This was taken at Dropkick Murphy's pub in Edinburgh. We saw the "craic" sign (a gaelic word for "fun", pronounced like "crack") and thought it would be fun to pose with it. But apparentlyI didn't get the memo to flash rockstar fists. Instead, I mimed snorting crack. As in the drug. Can you even snort crack? I don't know, I'm super anti-drug, which is why this picture was extra bizarre. 

This little beauty was taken at the Gravity Bar at the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin. We thought we'd look cool and snap a pic of us taking our first sip. Only, that was the first time I'd ever tried Guinness and clearly you can tell by my face how much I liked it. I look like I might vomit into my glass. 

After pleading with my brother to take this very touristy shot in Leuven, Belgium (where he lived at the time), he finally agreed. That right there is an actual grilled cheese vending machine. I kid you not. Is that not the coolest thing you've ever seen? I was amazed. And it pops one out in 60 seconds! I was dragged away before I could actually buy one (I was told they were sketchy). Bummer. 

Oh how I miss the scary European cigarettes packages. Not that I've ever smoked before, but they always amused me...until I came across this one in London. It was a bit depressing for me and after a long night of drinking, I just had to have a picture with it. It says, "Smoking can cause a slow and painful death." Yikes. Just say no, kids.

Munich was full of these crazy painted lions. Each one had a theme (the Santa one was my fav), but when we found this one, we couldn't figure it out. It was wearing makeup, a belt, daisy flip flops, rings, a bitten chocolate heart necklace that says "I love Munich", a checkered bib and it's holding a liter of beer. 

And as I typed that, I think I finally realized what it's supposed to be. An American. No wait...a trashy American woman. Hmm...

A totally classic pose in Paris. Being the cheeseballs we are, we had to take this pic. But it was only later that I realized we might have chosen one of the worst spots to do this. How nice that we thought to frame the lovely graffiti in the background. I think I might be one of the first people ever to make the Eiffel Tower look ghetto. Nice work.

There were oodles more, but I'll spare you tonight. Maybe one day I'll put up my favorite good pictures from Ireland and beyond. Or not. You'll just have to wait and see.

Have a great night everyone!

Weekend recap, Amish people, Golden Globes...oh my!

This girl is tired. Very, very tired. After getting about 7 hours of sleep the whole weekend, I'm definitely ready to go to bed.

Friday night was the big (little) Galway reunion. I had a blast. We braved the cold, wet snow and trudged out on our Irish pub crawl. After a few pints of Smithwick's and Stella, some bottles of Magner's and a handful of Baby G's and Car Bombs, we were loudly and excitedly (mostly on my part) reminiscing about our favorites times abroad. Throw in a few awkward moments (like an almost-fight between strange men) and a heart-to-heart at the Rock n' Roll McDonald's at 3am and you've got one hell of a night. 

The next day I had to brave the snow again (I am SO sick of winter) and made the trek to the train station. Thank God for my sweet black peace sign rain boots, which kept my feet nice and dry and relatively toasty. Let me just say that sitting on the floor of a super crowded train station with a hangover is not fun. What was fun though was when this really loud woman struck up a conversation with this sweet little Amish girl standing next to her. And please note this was right after the loud woman got pissed at someone in line and called her a snotty bitch. I believe the convo went something like this:

Loud Woman: Hey, wow, great cap! Are you like Amish?

Amish Girl: Yes, yes I am.

LW: Wow! That's so cool. I think all you Amish people are great, you know being away from society and stuff. That's awesome. 

Amish Girl smiles and nods a bit.

LW: Is this your first time in the big city? Are you totally blown away?

Amish Girl: Yes, I am on my way to visit my boyfriend.

LW: You guys can date? No way! How is that possible?

Amish Girl: Yes, he is from Kentucky.

LW: Wow, really? Can you guys really do that? Go out and meet other people like that? 

Amish Girl: Yes, yes. 

LW: How did you meet? I just admire you all much. Amish people fascinate me.

And that's when I couldn't hold my laughter anymore and I had to walk away. That poor girl. It made me shudder a bit to think how naive and obnoxious that woman was. Yikes.

The rest of the weekend was great. I finally got on the train and went to Milwaukee to hang out with my boyfriend. We went to his teacher holiday party out in the middle of Wisconsin somewhere. Have I mentioned before that he is a teacher? So anyway, that was a blast. He works with some really fun people, so he's lucky. 

Then today I came back to the 'burbs and hit up the mall with my sister. We ended up seeing Bride Wars. It was good...but not that good. I was a tad disappointed. 

So now I'm sitting here watching the Golden Globes. Was anyone else a little sad when Heath Ledger won? He definitely deserved it, but it's so tragic... Ok and seriously, it has always REALLY annoyed me when people win awards and then aren't even there to accept it. All the other nominees could come out and wave their little hands and smile, but the dope that won couldn't even show up? Hey, I understand if there was a family emergency or something, but still. If I was one of those people that didn't win, I'd be a bit upset. But then again, if I was one of those people, I'd probably be freaking out because I was in the same room with all my favorite celebs. 

I love how all those actors and actresses are so "hip" together. They all mingle and do the cheek-kisses and all that jazz. How chic. And fake. Do you ever wonder how things really are between all the celebrities? Like who really hates each other? Who is secretly in love with someone else? Who slept together in the past and tries to forget it? I do. I mean look at Angelina tonight, she looked pissed. And Steve Carrell always looks really sad at award shows. I wonder what it's all about. I bet it's crazy drama sometimes. But that might just be me.

What's the craic?

When I say I love Ireland, it's a bit of an understatement. 

I'm kind of obsessed with it. Irish accents, Irish people, Irish music, Irish holidays (or just one), Irish pubs, Irish beer, Irish shots (Baby Guiness!), even Irish food (ok not all of it). I hear someone mention it and my ears perk up. When I pass by the travel section in a book store, I have to browse through the Ireland books. If I'm bored at work sometimes, I look at pictures of Ireland. It's a bit sick, really.

My infatuation with the glorious Emerald Isle started back in Fall of 2005, when I studied abroad in Galway. When we first got there, I'll admit I wasn't too crazy about it. Perhaps it was after the disastrous first night in which we got ridiculously drunk on Red Bull vodkas with a handful of boys from Liverpool...right. Can't tell that story. I'd probably be shot. 

But as the slight culture shock wore off, I fell in love with it. Classes didn't matter much there. My 3 "flatmates" (my high school friend A, a girl from my college I hadn't known previously, and a girl from NY) and I had a rule: If it was raining, we didn't have to go to class. And it rained a lot. We went out almost every night, met the cutest (and not so cute) Irish boys and traveled all over Europe on the weekends. And when I ended up dating a very cute Irish guy for a couple of months, it was the icing on the cake. 

Though sometimes I grew tired of the constant rain, I loved every moment. When we had to leave and I had to say goodbye to everyone, especially my Irish guy, I was heartbroken. I literally cried the whole night before I left, the whole bus ride to the airport, the whole time at the airport and then the whole 7 hour flight back. I was a hot mess. No not even hot...I was a cold, tired, ugly, sniffly, snotty mess. Sick. The poor woman sitting next to me must have thought I was crazy.

I had the time of my life in Ireland. I could literally talk about it for hours on end. And every day, I wish I could go back. One day I do want to go back there...actually I want to go back now. But I know it won't be the same. 

So luckily, I get the next best thing. Tomorrow night we're having a mini Galway reunion. Technially it's only me, A and our other roommate from the Niland House (where we lived over there), but it's the first time we've all been out together since we left Galway 3 years ago. I can't even wait. We're going on a little Irish pub crawl around Chicago. It should be a lot of fun. And hopefully it will be like having a tiny little piece of Ireland back again.

Sidenote: "Craic" is a Gaelic word for fun, good time, etc. They say it all the time over there.