I love Ireland. Seven hours in and I've already gotten more action than all this year.
Of course, I had to initiate it, and people were watching, and my kissing partner is kind of a kissing slut.
I left Utah 30 hours ago. I've been in Ireland for just more than 12 of those hours and awake for what feels like three years. The only thing between me and sleep is the Internet working long enough for me to email my mom and post this.
So far, besides kissing the Blarney Stone, the highlight of the trip has been the people. Traveling always reminds me that people are basically decent -- like the guy behind me getting onto a plane who wrestled my backpack into an overhead compartment where I never would have thought it would fit, or the tour guide who invited me along on his tour and then, when we ran into each other later at the bus station, helped me figure out my schedule for tomorrow.
Ah, tomorrow. A day I hope will be preceded by eight hours of sleep. Good night!
* I had a jolly good time.