My kid will beat your kid at beer pong.
So, the summer in Ireland is over. That’s it. Six days of sunshine and moderate warmth and now we get to go into quasi-spring/autumn mode where we hope week after week that it will stop raining and the temp would rise above 55 degrees but the stupid weather man keeps telling me that it’s going to RAIN UNTIL THE DAY I DIE.
I met with Evil Liz today for lunch. We sat by the canal in coats and fleece. The original plan was to sit in the sun and feel like we were back home where, oh, it’s raining and cold there too? Well, where we could pretend like we were in Hawaii. That’s in America. It counts.
Instead, we sat in the cold and discussed how American university experiences are so much better than Irish ones. Where else can you take a course on humanities and "Movie Appreciation" and STILL GET A LEGIT DEGREE? I took tennis and "Pop Culture in the New Millennium" and somehow I’m surprised that the Irish don’t take my degree all that seriously? C’mon, how can they not see the benefit in "Technical Writing 101"? You never know when you’ll need someone to write a manual on how to change a tire and then I’M YOUR GIRL.
If we have children I’m convinced I will send them off to an American school, should we live there or not. I want to be able to go to football games and I when I’m there I want the players to be wearing helmets and pads and not super tiny shorts. If an Irish college can provide this, I all in. A class on basket weaving in the 19th century and few games of flip cup wouldn’t hurt, either.