This post is all over the place.

So for those of you who haven't heard me complaining about this yet, Dublin is cold. When we're lucky it's a non-windy 50F. More frequently, however, it's a brisk, wet 3C, which is European for 37F.


Needless to say I've been wearing layers.

I wish I could say so much for the locals, but nope, Dublin girls run around in next to nothing. Their heaviest article is typically their 6" pumps.

Usually they walk around in see-through leggings and short shirts, yeah they don't leave much to the imagination.

I've seen a lot of crazy outfits, from backless "dresses" (is there a minimum requirement of fabric to qualify as a dress?) to fur coats paired with short shorts (more on the fur thing later). But the worst observance came last week when Rad and I were downtown pub hopping and we spotted a young woman in her underwear.

Yes, her underwear.


She was with a group of friends, most likely heading to a club, and although they were all scantily clad, the rest of them had remembered to put pants on.


Radhika and I did a double take, and didn't do much to hide our shock. If these people had been more observant not only would they have heard our blunt "are you fucking kidding me?" but also, maybe, just maybe, they would've reminded pantsless-Patty not to leave the house half naked in 40F weather.

Here's hoping she hasn't caught pneumonia or spread something else.


Dubliners also love fur. They wear sooooo much of it. Fake or real, I can't tell (I've never been much of a fur connoisseur) but it's definitely tacky. It's like Dublin is full of Cruella Devils. But it's not always fur coats on old ladies, which i think is a fairly normal sight, no it's like weird fur collars/dickeys and fur vests and shorts.

It's unsightly. We've got ourselves quite a hairy situation here in Dublin.


(SEE WHAT I DID THERE?)



I'm over the whole Dublin style debacle. Onto a European eccentricity, winking.


Yeah they wink a lot over here. Don't they know winking is reserved for old people, shenanigans, and perverts?


Maybe that's just in America, because seriously I've been winked at more in the last month than I ever was in my whole life back in the states.


I can't explain it but it's unnervingly frequent.

I remember one time when I was little at Disneyland, I'm guessing 4 ish, this old woman passed by me and winked.

I remember feeling uncomfortable, but knowing that she was old and sometimes old people make you uncomfortable and you just have to act like they aren't freaking you out.

I was very wise for my age.


Point of that story is that babies instinctively don't like being winked at, so winking must be associated with something awful and it's ingrained in us to not like it because, I can only imagine, it was something horrifying to our ancestors.



Bottom line: winking is an uncomfortable gesture that is forgivable when geriatrics are involved, expected from creepy guys with no game and hilarious when tomfoolery is afoot.

Somebody needs to tell Europeans.



So I asked a few people for topic suggestions for this blog, by a few people i mean my brother and Sarina.

Sarina said on facebook chat,


"Hmmmmm.

Idk.

but you should totally get a tat of a 4 leaf clover while your over there. it would be cute and have meaning."


I was totally tempted by the deep meaning that tat would definitely have, but in the end I've decided against it.


My Brother Zak told me to write this blog post because, "Idle hands are the devil's playthings."



He didn't have any suggestions though as far as topics go.


But that's okay, I seem to do a good enough job ranting about the everyday to sustain some sort of interest.

I am going on some trips this month so there will definitely be some picture posts coming soon.


Goodnight dear readers, stay warm, fur free, blinking, meaningfully tatted and busy in the name of Jesus.


-Chelsea