I went to a show tonight.
The theatre was really modern and beautiful, the man who scanned my ticket was wearing a suit and the people around me were all dressed up.
I looked like I'd been walking in the rain all day, putting my hood on and off and occasionally trying on a medieval helmet. I have a huge raincoat on.
I wanted to apologize to the smartly dressed man in the elevator. I take theatre seriously. But as a tourist, you dress for the lowest common denominator. In Dublin, that is rain. Underneath my raincoat I'm actually wearing somewhat nice clothes, and once upon a time my hair wasn't sticking up in parts and sticking to my head in others. It looked brushed, at least.
But no matter. The theatre was dark, and they did not hold my ticket until I didn't look like a slug or make overt comments about my looking like a slug.
And then the show started, and my slugocity didn't matter. Heartbeat of Home. It's coming to North America. Look out!
Today I also went to the National Leprechaun Museum. It sounds totally hokey, right? Except it is awesome. It's not a museum so much as a moving story in a playground. And I was the only one in the tour. I got to hear Irish fairy tales and flirt with the tour guide. Good stuff. And it totally made up for the hour extra it took me to find the first museum I went to. Turns out I am cartographically illiterate.
Tomorrow I have a few hours in Dublin -- laundry and a couple of free museums, 'cause wow can I burn through money! -- and then I'm off to country no. 2, the Netherlands. I won't hit Amsterdam until the next day, though, and I've already gotten some sage advice: avoid the prostitutes.