I had very little dignity to begin with, really.

It’s Harry Potter Day today and in some places of the world it’s beautiful and summery. Of course in other freaky places it’s winter right now and they are the places where weirdos go to the beach at Christmas. But Ireland is one of the quirky places where they say it’s summer, but it acts like winter. All the time.

I made a vow not to talk about the weather on here until it cleared up but since it seems like the great flood is going to come soon, and I did write the rain day count a few posts back, I figured, what the hell? My computer could get washed away and then you would never know that my final days were spent in wet shoes, and that’s not the way to go, is it?

It’s raining. I mean RAINING and it’s all it has done for 56 days now. We get brief patches of sunlight where we all stare at the sky confused but happy. Like one, giant, island-wide acid trip. And then we start to come down and it’s STILL RAINING.

Not only is the rain pelting down but it’s cold and I mean cold. Today the high is 10 degrees Celsius which I’m pretty sure equals -5469745 degrees Fahrenheit. Or somewhere around there. Double check that, my math could be wrong. I have worn an autumn jacket every day in July and I have never once felt compelled to take it off and tuck it over my arm like you do during those first periods of spring where the heat surprises you. We don’t have those surprises. We just have the cold and the rain.

Tonight I will be waiting on line at Borders to obtain this much hyped Harry Potter book with all the other dorks whose minds are too small advanced to WANT TO comprehend adult novels. Not only will we find out dear Harry’s fate, but we will also walk away with soggy pants and very little dignity.

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Liz in Dublin