Irish Invasion...

...no lie.
Yesterday we were invaded by a little over a dozen Irish college boys. I'm not complaining - I'm explaining. Just so we have that clear. Now I'll continue. It was Tuesday night. Now to put you in our shoes, we weren't sure if we wanted to go out that night. We heard a traditional Irish band was playing and it was going to be a good night but we just weren't feeling it. We were sitting in our rooms doing homework and checking facebook (the usual) when our door opened and suddenly we heard an Irish voice say, "Sorry wrong house." To which we replied, "No problem." Then the door opened again and another young Irish voice came ringing, "Sorry wrong house." At around the fourth Irish voice yelling that through out open door, Sam began to invite them in and actually went to the door. At this point I joined her at the door, or rather I made a quick sprint across my roon and into the hallway in order to join her at the door as quickly as possible. They encouraged us to get to know the locals, and clearly this was as good a chance as any other. Soon these dozen or so Irishmen were inhabiting our living room proclaiming how awesome our apartment was and telling us that it was the birthdays of two of the boys. Brilliant. One began to ask us our names, "Samantha," then it was my turn, "Brittany." They immediately erupted into loudness at the mention that my name was Brittany. I guess it doesn't get much more American than Samantha and Brittany. Soon enough they began to invite us out to wherever they were going, though only after chastising us that we weren't already out or at least ready to go out. They invited us to a bar and said, if we see you there we'll buy you each a drink. As soon as the door shut behind them as they went to meet their taxi, Sam and I looked at each other and said, "15 Minutes?"
In the end Sam chose not to go, but Carolan and I went to the Old Oak for what ended up being an ok show, but a really fun night anyways. At least for me, I got us tickets to a private event at the bar we always go to. It pays to flirt with the bartender - what's ironic is that I was only flirting with him to get information for my friend who liked him who refused to flirt with him. COnfused yet? It's much easily to flirt with someone for someone else. Does that make sense? In any case we have VIP tickets to a show with a "Brilliant band," as Dave the bartender said. 1 Point Brittany, 0 Points Somebody else.
Today brought yet another adventure as we decided how to bring our plans for a garden to fruition. The plans for our indoor garden, at that point, included some cleaned out glass jars from peanut butter, spaghetti sauce and the like, and a cookie tin, plus a good deal of compost and packets of seeds for flowers, vegetables, and fruits. We go all out. See anything missing though? Yeah - dirt. We decided there was no way we were going to pay for dirt especially when we are surrounded by so much dirt. So we planned to head out on a mission at 20:00 toward the UCC Campus because today, by some divine intervention, I spotted a large pile of dirt behind the main quadrangle. (See that building at the top of my blog - behind that.) But what would we put the dirt in? First we had planned on filling the biggest pot we had, which we covered with tin foil in a feeble attempt to make it look like potluck instead of a bit of stolen earth. But, lucky for us, the Irish boys had been patroling yet again today, this time with a bucket which they left in the lobby of our apartment complex. Sam grabbed it, I refused because I insisted on not looking suspect and I wondered what it would look like carrying a large plastic bucket and a silver serving spoon around campus and the streets of Cork. Finally we arrived at the spot. Sam filled her bucket and Carolan filled her while I stood guard over the scene. Soon I saw a security officer heading our way, "Security! Security is coming! Security!" I began muttering loudly to them, to which Carolan stood up with her bucket looked at me and said, "I think I took enough dirt for our garden." Later she revelaed to me that she though I was kidding about security. I explained, "Carolan, when you are on a stealth mission to steal something from a campus in a foreign country, be it dirt or a copy of the final exam, the person yelling that security is coming is never lying." In any case we made it back to the apartment, dirt in hand, after walking the streets of Cork and recieving plenty of odd looks from the locals. Yes, that's us - the crazy Americans stealing dirt. We then combined the dirt with our compost and planted us a garden! I hope that it will be lovely, but only time will tell.
All right it's about time for me to go to bed, I have Gailge (pronounced -> Gail-ge with a hard G sound) and Italian class tomorrow. Goodnight!