Au Revior, 2009

And the past decade. The greatest decade of my life. Friends, let's just say that my 20s were an amazing time and here's to hoping that my 30s will match it, or better yet, top it. This was a rollercoaster decade. I was in college for the beginning and met some great friends there, even though it was in Maine. I also held some of the greatest jobs of all time: Camp Counselor, Assistant Teacher in a Special Ed classrom, liquor store employee.. I mean the list stops there, but you know what I mean. I also worked for Corporate America.

I traveled halfway around the world and back, went to the Middle East a few times(Doha 4 times, and Dubai). I went to the Maldives, I went to Scotland, England, Canada, California, drove up and down the East Coast of the US, and went to Key West. I went on a cruise to the Caribbean, drank coconut rum at a pirate bar, went to a Chick-Fil-A in Savannah, and took a boat to Catalina Island. I went to Margaritaville in Key West and in Las Vegas. I went to Universal Studios in LA and Orlando, went to Busch Gardens in Tampa, was a chaperone for an 8th grade field trip Six Flags New England, and went to Disney World for the first time. More importantly, went to Tivoli twice.

I had a great time between 2002 - 2004, an even better time in 2005, and in 2006, I was introduced to the SJC. In 2007 I moved to Dublin, in 2008 I got married, and in 2009, I got married AGAIN. I also became an aunt in 2009 to the greatest child of all time.

I shall look back on this decade with fond memories and will tell stories about how awesome the 2000s were. Memoirs will be penned. Honestly, I could never ask for a better 10 years.

I have my resolutions in order. This year I'm not resolving to make no resolutions, I'm actually making quite a few, which I will not share here because they're pretty boring.

So Happy New Year's to you and yours. Now for the Nostalgia. Just a few pictures of the good times but the memories are much better.


Finally 21! UBFs, 2001


With Tom at his sister's wedding, 2001


Camp Counselor, 2002


A whole new meaning to the word Camp, 2002


NYE Day, 2003, Nik and I were the Everlasting Champions of Trivial Pursuit


Roommates at the Wellesley College Greenhouse, 2005


Sisters in Dublin, 2005


Good thing I know sign language. Wicka-wicka-Wicklow, 2005


Catalina Island, 2006


Me and the SJC in NYC, 2007


The TF Hoedown aka my last hurrah. Hanging out with Bon Jovi, 2007


The First Wedding, 2008


The Wedding Strikes Back, 2009


HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Nice to see you this morning, DFB.

This morning around 6:15 I woke up with a start and had a feeling that some shit was about to go down.

I was right. I'm always right.

The fire alarm went off. I was not surprised. I usually wake up just before the alarm goes off. I would have gotten up earlier if I hadn't gotten a head cold for Lizmas, but that's neither here nor there. The SJC and I got dressed and bolted downstairs and outside into the pouring rain. We were met by a handsome member of the Dublin Fire Brigade who told us that all was well and we could go back into our apartments. I blushed at his forwardness.

Because I'm American and I can play the blunt American card, I asked what was up. Apparently one of our neighbors on our floor left a candle on top of a heater that was on. First of all, how dumb is that. Even idiots know basic rules about fire safety. The anger I felt may have been due to the rude awakening at 6:15 am but it also may have had to do with the fact that dummies live all around us. We went back to bed with the alarm still ringing (a very soothing noise, like a fan or a cat being strangled.)

Here's what I learned about myself this morning. I think Firefighters are great. I respect the hell out of them. Also, sometimes, Police Officers, but not when they pull me over for speeding. And let's face it, some Firefighters are hot, literally and figuratively. Also, they save kittens out of trees! Who doesn't love a man who can save a kitten!?

Because I'm married, and not dead, I like to think I can appreciate a handsome man when I see one. The thing is, I haven't seen many since meeting the SJC (fact) and despite looking at handsomeness in the face when I see it, the only thought that crosses my mind usually is "You are not as handsome as my husband." Where am I going with this? The Dublin Fire Brigade employs handsome men. I saw three of them this morning, all with varying degrees of Handsomeness. Had this been the south and had I been a prominent member of society, wearing a silk bathrobe with feathers on the collar, I would have fainted in front of one of them (probably the first one) just to see his reaction. Alas, I am a Yankee, from the North, not prone to fainting or elaborate costumes.

I pondered over this for a while, shaken to my morally righteous core and thinking to myself "Hmm, not as handsome as the SJC, but close." Maybe I only thought they were handsome because it was a life or death situation (I'm nothing if not dramatic,) not unlike how Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock felt in Speed. Maybe because I was rudely awakened at such an unGodly hour, I had to suffer while my mind was racing.

Finally, I came to the conclusion that these gentlemen were, indeed, quite handsome and I have a touch of Hero Worship. With that, I would just like to thank the Dublin Fire Brigade for making me feel a little bit safer this morning and for showing me where the Handsome Dubliners are employed.

DFB, I salute you.

Thirty Years Old

It feels a lot like being 29, but it's still early days.

Pictures to come (though most of are Lil D) and stories to tell of the worst St Stephen's Day of the SJC's life (for various reasons) and the best December 27th of our lives (the Natick Mall beckons..)

I hope you and yours had a lovely Lizmas! The SJC and I will be in transit tonight, returning to Dublin via Aer Lingus. See you soon, Dublin!

I shall leave you with this, a picture I got from my cousin of me and my two sisters. Guess which one was pinching me right as this shot was taken?



(answer: Kate.)

Home for Lizmas

I made it home in one piece. Aer Lingus delayed our flight for an hour waiting for some suckers from Manchester, UK (I have to specify) to land in Dublin. And, despite the one hour delay, we managed to land at Logan early. I like your style, tail winds! Turns out I have the best travel story because I actually GOT home, rather than being delayed or diverted like a few people I know.

Today I'm off to Manchester, CT (see?) to see the one and only Darcy and her mother, my sister, and her father, my brother-in-law. I'm delighted. I can't wait to see this small person who has captivated the hearts of literally dozens. (She's not internet famous...yet...)

There is about a foot of snow on the ground here in Metropolis and last night my parents drove me by "Mr. Perfect's" house to see the Christmas lights. Let's just say this was an event unto itself. I'll be taking the SJC to see it when he arrives, and I will make a video, which you can bet will be posted on this very blog.

It's a feast for the senses. Yes, plural.

On that note, I'm off to get ready for the day. It is 7:22 am, after all, and I've been awake for hours.

So...This is Christmas

The past few days have been spent alternating between the couch and the Gift Wrap Area with a splash of outside and out and about. Hey-ho look at me go. Um, Oh My God I hate Christmas. The pressure to buy gifts for everyone and make sure it's something they like, it's unbelievable. Fortunately for me, I usually get to avoid this stress because my family does Secret Santa and we only buy a gift for one person and our parents. (DUTY FREE!!!) So, three people. But usually we combine efforts on our parents gifts, like last year we gave my Dad a guitar and my Mom a tea kettle. A little lopsided, I know. Christmas has been relatively stress free for me of late, because I really only need to shop for two people and then brainstorm with my siblings on what to get the other two. This year's suggestion was Snuggies, which, I hope, was a joke.

This year, it was harder to buy for everyone. The SJC has been called out of the country on business a few times, and has been going (in my opinion) above and beyond the call of duty for his office gig. He's not had much time to go shopping, what with all the work he has to do on the weekends, so it's fallen into my hands. And when I say 'fallen,' I mean 'I volunteered because I'm unemployed and could use a scheduled activity once in awhile.' My life is a lot like living in a retirement home, just without the scooters and shuffleboard.

The SJC's family rolls a little bit differently from my family. They buy for everyone. I'm all for it, except when I'm walking back from town with four huge books (not saying who those are for!) and several DVDs (or those!) and jugs of body wash (that's probably obvious) to wrap and hand out like gangbusters. But I don't mind doing it. For one thing, it works my biceps and delts, which is beneficial for my life on the streets. And in the end, it's a gift windfall for everyone, which is awesome.

All this shopping has proven one thing to me. In November I was all, "Nah, I don't want anything for Christmas!" and now I'm all "Holy shit, I want so much." Like a greedy little street urchin, my list of demands gets bigger and bigger as the day gets closer and closer. Apparently I'm hugely susceptible to advertisements and pricing gimmicks. I want it all! Buy one get one free? I accept your terms! Gimme gimme gimme, I want, I need. And if I can't get it for Christmas, I can get it for my birthday! The only time it pays to be Jesus 2.0!


Pay close attention, siblings, because Sephora gift certificates won't cut it this year!

Besides The Gilmore Girls seasons 1 - 7 (though I know I already got some of them because I opened presents early. I'm sorry but it's who I am. I read the end of the book first - I can't change!,) I want fingerless gloves (cashmere, at M&S), Guitar Hero: Aerosmith, SingStar, a multi-region DVD player, several cookbooks I saw in town, The Tudors box set, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia box set, GHD hair straightener, sneakers (size US 11 in womens), sparkly flats, boots, firepants (pants with a heating system - may not have been invented yet), cases upon cases of wine, earrings, bracelets, a watch, books (pretty much every book out there I haven't read, unless it's by a former Taoiseach's daughter), and the list goes on and on.

Now ask me if I need any of those things.

The answer is no. Except for Guitar Hero: Aerosmith. That I don't think I could live without. And SingStar, to hone my craft. And definitely the firepants, if they exist. I'm very cold right now.

Christmas in Pictures

For those of you who read my 25 Christmas Questions, I've dug up some pictures of items I mentioned.

First, the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Ornament that my siblings made for my Mom out of a Corona 6 pack carrier.



Not as tasteless as you'd think, but not nearly as classy as a stone bust of Longfellow himself.

Second, the Han Solo/Chewbacca Ornament, as seen from the Han Solo side.



Arts and crafts were never my forte, I never progressed beyond stick figures and drawing train tracks going into the horizon. My niece drew us a picture of blue elephants on purple grass that I adore. I envy her talent. She is 10.

Third, an ornament that goes without saying.



Kate puts this ornament up every year, and every year sings the following in a very high pitched voice, "The most beautiful ornameeeeeent in the woooooooorld!!!" It's a beautiful moment.

My Nativity Scene, as given to me by my Gramma in the early 80s. I have thoughts that the story involves her painting it by hand and giving it to me because Jesus and I share a birthday.



Please note Legolas has been added to the scene for extra protection over Baby Jesus.

Kate making her signature lethal concotion of Kahlua, Bailey's, Vodka, Amaretto, and a splash of milk. BD (Before Darcy).



Mom looks on disapprovingly because she doesn't want her children to be drinkers. (I love you Mom!)

And finally, my Dad with the key ingredient for Lobster Mac and Cheese.



A dead lobster. You know it's dead cuz it's red!

I hope this year the SJC doesn't mind trading a delightful classy Christmas in RP for a CrazyTrain Christmas at the Oak. He'll have a tin of Roses anyway.

Things to look forward to

Eurovision was months ago, but I love Eurovision so I think of it often. Okay who am I kidding, this is the first time I've thought about it months.

And why did I think of it? Because this song has been stuck in my head for days now.



And why was it stuck in my head? Because it's the best Eurovision song I've ever heard.

To me, Eurovision is like the Olympics of singing, and you know how much I love the Olympics. Even if I wasn't allowed to walk down the aisle to the Bugler's Theme/Olympic Fanfare (I asked!), I still love it.

Anyway, the SJC and I were discussing our plans for 2010 the other night and I mentioned that we should probably go to Norway for Eurovision, or at the very least have a huge party and invite only people who love Eurovision over. That would probably end up being a very small party of me and Beth, but still a party. Maybe we could get a life size cut out of Zac Efron as eye candy during commercial breaks.

I hope May gets here quickly. At least I have the Winter Olympics to tide me over until then. And a trip to LA in January. And a trip to Savannah in March. And Lizmas. Who could forget Lizmas?

25 Christmas Questions

I totally stole this from Kim.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper, even if the object is round. Come hell or high water, that gift will be wrapped!

2. Real tree or Artificial? Real. Though we haven't gotten a tree for our Dublin apartment since I've been here, my parents always get real trees. This year I suggested getting a fake tree and a pine candle scent but the SJC rejected that idea.

3. When do you put up the tree? About a week before Christmas. My Mom usually gets it early-ish.

4. When do you take the tree down? I'd like to take it down two days after Christmas but Mom has other ideas. It's usually up until New Years much to my Dad's chagrin.

5. Do you like egg nog? I fecking love egg nog.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Probably the Nintendo Entertainment System my Gramma bought for us after my Mom told her we were a Non-Video Game Family. Best gift, though I never got to use it because Kate and Mark hogged it. I still have not beaten Super Mario Bros. Some...day.... I also enjoyed the bicycles though I couldn't ride them until the spring. The Christmas we got Walkmans was a good one too.

7. Hardest person to buy for? The SJC and my Dad who never ever wants presents.

8. Easiest person to buy for? We do Secret Santa in my family, this year I got a pretty easy person.

9. Do you have a nativity scene? Yes but it's at the Oak.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Who emails Christmas cards? I definitely mail them.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? One year I got soap and shampoo from a Disney hotel. I won't say who it was from but it was a pretty bogus gift.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? Elf and Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I consider my shopping for a few weeks and usually shop the week before.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Yes, into Yankee Swap gifts if necessary.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? The peanut butter cookies with the Hershey kiss in the middle.

16. Lights on the tree? White.

17. Favorite Christmas song? "Feliz Navidad" by Jose Feliciano.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? These days I travel across the Atlantic to Metropolis to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's? No. Not even while singing the song.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? An angel.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Both, usually. Molly, however, always opts to not open a gift on Christmas Eve so she has more to open on Christmas day.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Um...Everything?

23. Favorite ornament, theme, or color? My favorite ornament is an ornament of Han Solo and Chewbacca that my sister and I made in 1997 out of stickers and tinfoil. Yes, I was 17 in 1997. We still put that one up every year, along with the Most Beautiful Unicorn and the ornament of Longfellow that Mark and Molly made out of a Corona six pack carrier.

24. Favorite for Christmas Dinner? The year we had lobster mac and cheese was the best year of my life.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? A couple of sweaters from the Gap, Cowboy boots, and Guitar Hero: Aerosmith. But I'm easy.

They Will Not Be Ignored.

Charity is huge in the IRL which goes completely against my black hearted ways. I don't like to donate money to charity for many reasons, the most irrational being if you donate money it encourages a charity to keep people on the street harassing you, killing bunnies and boiling them in your favorite lobster pot on your stove, and shouting at you from miles away to discuss Concern and DONATE TO THE CAUSE. And that concerns me. (A play on words - hiyooo!)

Once, in my former life when I was a high flying career woman, I was at South Station with a friend getting coffee. I was approached by a man who was wearing a 'Save the Wales' tee-shirt. He asked me if I wanted to help save the whales. I told him I didn't right then and he said "FINE. LET THEM ALL DIE. ASS." This made me angry. Not quite Lou Ferrigno angry, but enough to get in his face and say "HEY PAL. I HAVE PRESERVE THE TRUST LICENSE PLATES - I DONATE AT LEAST $90 EVERY TWO YEARS TO THE WHALES." He apologized and my denim shorts remained untattered. (Just kidding, I would never wear denim shorts.)

But the Concern people are far worse. They are like vultures circling around a dead carcass in the jungle. They see you coming a mile away and yell "HELLO THERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO TALK ABOUT CONCERN!" No I would not. I find your commercials terrible and your street manner just plain rude. And then you walk away from them and they mutter "Babies in Africa are starving because of you." A classic 'You don't win friends with salad' move.

Today the ISPCC had kids crawling over the city, really pulling at your heart strings because they were in their school uniforms looking as unlucky as possible. The ISPCC kids would call out 'Excuse me miss, want to..' and I'd keep right the hell on walking. This happened about 15 times and each time I played the 'I'm looking the other way' game. To spice things up, I added my 'I can't hear you over my iPod' trickery and my 'Look at how mean I look' face to try and shake a few of the hounds off me.

The little bastards were everywhere! A few of the smart kids placed themselves strategically in front of Kilkenny and sang Christmas carols for donations. These little entrepreneurs probably made a killing with that routine. No sooner had I walked out of the store than a kid came up to me and asked me to DONATE TO THE CAUSE.

"What's this for?" I asked skeptically
"The ISPC*mumble*." she said
"Speak up you! Are you the ISPCC or the ISPCA?" I asked, suddenly becoming an 80 year old disenchanted with today's youth, "This is important!"
"The ISPCC." was the response.
"Good. Here is 2 euro." I said as I handed over some change.
"Happy Christmas Miss!" the little cherub's shining face sang out at me.

And my heart felt joy. Almost enough joy that I considered giving a hobo some change but quickly decided against it because, well, my good dead for the decade had just been fulfilled. Wondering why I had to clarify the charity? Because the ISPCA is a charity for animals. Donate money to save a dog? Get out of my face.

My point is this: If you want to DONATE TO THE CAUSE, do me a solid and make sure it's for the kids.

The Path to Least Distraction

I'm writing out Thank You notes from the Wedding of the Century. I've put this off long enough, citing 'I'm busy' as a reason to not write them. And how busy is an unemployed person? Well, I had the Gilmore Girls to watch. And then I had to rearrange furniture and clean the apartment. And then I had to meet people for lunch and go for walks. And then I had to spy on the neighbors who use a boat as a meth lab (of this I am now positive) and then I had to blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., etc.

Finally I had to buckle down. I said to myself, "Okay Liz, time for you to buckle down. Let's get these cards written because the sooner you write them, the sooner you can have a gin and tonic." And then myself said to me, "That is an amazing prize. Get me my blue pen!" But first, I had to find the Path to the Least Distraction.

This is a tough thing to find because I get distracted incredibly easy. I can be in full soliloquy mode with someone and see a piece of dust fly by and go 'Hey what was that!' turn my head and run in the other direction. Concentrating is a thing of the past. My mind now multi-tasks.

I can describe it like this: One time I saw a cartoon of some dude walking down a street and all these kinds of words came jumping out at him. I think it was on Sesame Street or I made it up. My mind is a lot like that dude walking down the street, complete with words, and even better and more often, songs. I can go from "Some Guys Have All The Luck" to "When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again" in .02 seconds flat. (That just happened.) To summarize, it's a big old jumbled mess up there. So how did I find the Path of Least Distraction today?

I made myself a latte and grabbed a side table and sat down. I had the Gilmore Girls on for background noise, but found myself stopping my writing whenever Luke or Paris came on screen (I find their antics hilarious.) That simply would not to. I had to take a break and figure out the most boring thing I could have on as background noise. Music was out, because I still haven't found the remote for the Sounddock and I didn't want to risk a musical change like going from Led Zeppelin to a random Christmas carol. I decided to go with the BBC version of 'Pride & Prejudice.' Long, yes. Boring, kind of, but also interesting enough and I've seen it plenty of times so I know the story line. Then the sun was reflecting off the canal so I had to put on sunglasses. And then I had a great idea for a blog post.

So it's not a perfect path, it's pretty winding, to be honest, but it works. I am 10 cards down, 50 to go. I fully expect to have these written... eventually.

Let me also tell you this, two lattes in a row does not make for good note writing. I am literally ricocheting off the walls. It does, however make for hilarious message writing, complete with dozens of exclaimation points and terms like 'kick ass' and 'bitchin' when describing gifts. Okay, time to get back to writing. That gin and tonic isn't going to drink itself.

Here comes the rain. Again.

This morning I woke up and the sun was shining. I was all "Oh my lucky day!" And then birds came in and helped me get dressed while I was singing a song by a handsome prince . The whole scenario really reinforced my belief that I have a real future as a lead singer in a cover band ahead of me.

Then I logged into the Facebook and saw a bunch of amigos from Maine saying they had snow days because of the snow. Then I laughed because I was all "Haha, snow is for suckers," and felt happy that it rarely snows in Ireland, and when it does, it's gone in 60 seconds, like a 1994 blue Honda Civic.

Then I got incredibly smug and all "Hey life is good. I'm in Ireland where it's 50 degrees and sunny. I should brag about this." So I did because I'm nothing if not a forward looking thinker. And then the comments ensued and people were all "I thought it was supposed to rain there all the time!" And I was all "Yeah and we ride on donkies while looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that's guarded by Darby O'Gill and the Little People. Stop stereotyping this great land of Ireland, won't you?" And then I left and went to run errands/meet a couple of people for lunch.

And then when lunch was over, it was about 40 degrees and raining. And I was all "Karma... You're a bitch." And Karma was all "Hey bitch, at least it's not snowing."

Over the Liffey and through the City Centre..

To IKEA we go...

Did you know at IKEA you can get a frosted cannister that, after you eyeball it, is the perfect fit for your Nespresso capsules? Whenever I write about my Nespresso, I feel like a yuppie that likes to brag about how I can just whip up a latte thanks to George Clooney. And in my mind (trust me, this tangent has a point, if only to provide more color to your idea of me) I am wearing a tennis skirt, a polo shirt, and a sweater tied around my shoulders. I'm also laughing like Mrs. Van Uppity would and asking the neighbors if they want to play tennis and join me in the pool house for Sidecar after the match. So if you think being in my mind is a lot like Dr. Seuss's Wild Ride, then you'd be absolutely correct.

I digress. Because I always digress.

Do you know what else you can get at IKEA? A candle that smells like rain on a rock. Or, that's what I think it's supposed to smell like because that's what the picture looks like. You can also get a duvet cover that you've been coveting for months now, but has been out of stock for ages due to popular demand. And become a member of the IKEA family and spend less than a fiver on lunch.

Since the invention of the 140 bus (which I am happy to believe the Dublin Bus Company added to it's roster after my complaints to friends and the internets about the 13/13A), going to and from IKEA has been a much more enjoyable experience. You see, the 13/13A bus goes through Ballymun aka The Crossroads of Crackfuelled Murdertown and Hooverville, where children ride around on horses and carry brass knuckles in a very trippy yet slummy Laura Ingalls Wilder way. Though instead of dressing as early American settlers they wear Keds and windpants. I find myself staring in disbelief most of the time, but it's worth it for the memories. To borrow a phrase, that shit is bananas.

After another successful venture to IKEA, Meg and I took the 140 bus back to Wilton Terrace. The ride was uneventful, unless you consider Dublin youth singing 'Proud Mary' at the top of their lungs (topical) or getting motion sickness like a wuss to be an event. Except for the guy sitting behind Meg. The gentleman who got on at the second stop which made him the third person on the bus, an empty bus except for the two of us, and sat right next to Meg, leaned forward, and started snapping his gum loudly. So loudly, I could hear him from across the aisle, above the hum of the bus, the wailing of police sirens, and the Radio City Music Hall version of 'Proud Mary' (they only knew one line, by the way.)

Chew chew chew, slosh slosh slosh, snap snap snap.

That, on top of a young man riding a horse around a housing development as you do, made me realize that some people just need to keep.it.in.their.pants.

Super Cool Party People

Yesterday I had a Christmas Party with some of my amigos in Dublin.



We went through six bottles of wine and only 4 people were drinking. Not a bad record. After everyone left, it looked like a tornado went off in the apartment. I take that as a sign of a fun party.

I have some other great pictures but was asked by several attendees not to make them public. So they will be hidden until I need something for blackmail.

Happy Christmas, Friends!

Who Knew?

I spent 6 hours cleaning today. And I managed to only clean one room. Well, one giant room, technically the kitchen and living room are two separate rooms but really there's no wall, so it's one room.

Clearly I'm waffling because I'm tired. 6 hours on one room! The room isn't even that big! I didn't even take a break. And yet, 6 hours went by. Perhaps my cleaning method is for the birds - start in one corner and work your way out. But that's so boring.

I cleaned the oven too. I'm a little bit weirded out to use it now - what if the chemicals explode? I don't want to die of oven cleaner poisoning!

In other news, I finished reading 'Under the Dome' by Stephen King last night. Loved it. But then again, I enjoy Stephen King. I'd give you a book review but the book just came out and it'd be better if you just read it yourself. All 897 pages. Enjoy.

Was it a good dream or a bad dream?

This morning, right before I woke up, I was dreaming. (This happens often.)

My dream featured me standing in the middle of the living room at my parent's house holding up a pair of jeans and thinking to myself, "Hmm, they're still damp. I suppose I can put them in the dryer to speed them along."

Then my subconcsious piped in. (This happens a lot.)

It said to me, "Hey. It's me. Better open up an eye, have a little looksie and check your surroundings. You may not actually be at your parents house. You could be in Dublin, where there is no dryer."

So I listened to my subconscious. (I do that from time to time.)

I opened up an eye and saw I was in Dublin, not my parent's house. Then I thought "Aw feck."

Then my alarm went off and I awoke to a reality in which my jeans were still damp from yesterday's laundry and we have no dryer to speak of.

I think it was a nightmare, but I'm not so sure.