You Want It? Okay, I'll Give It To You.

Okay, so in yesterday’s post, I made mention that I had three stories to tell and let you guys choose which you wanted to hear. Here they are! Keeping with your wishes, Story A is the appetizer, Story C is the main course and Story B is the dessert. It’s a long post, but you asked for it. (You’ll probably want to read each of the “courses” because each story leads into the next.) APPETIZER: The Belfast Story “It’s the same old thing since 1916.” I’m fascinated by the similarities between the American Civil Rights Movement and the Troubles of Northern Ireland. (There’s probably a book or two written about the subject if you’re interested in learning more.) At any rate, the more that I read about the region, I more I know that I must travel to Belfast to see the city with my own eyes. I especially want to see the political murals on Shankill Road and the Falls because when first saw the images of men wearing black hoods over their faces and pointing AK47s directly at me, I instantly knew that Belfast would be a different kind of place. So, last month, I get an incredible deal on a roundtrip flight between London and Belfast and I grow incredibly excited about the daytrip to a city that I’ve come to love so dear. After booking my ticket, I point and click around to learn more about present-day politics in the city. I came across several very truly disturbing articles. I keep reading, but I just see more of the same. I start to wonder: what the fuck in going on in Belfast? I’m an independent woman and I don’t have a problem traveling alone or with traveling to places that others choose to avoid. At the same time, I’m not so sure about placing my little brown person in Belfast anymore ... But what does any of this have to do with my first blogger meeting? MAIN COURSE: 1st Blogger Meeting Story Girl Blogger Meets Girl Blogger One day, shortly after booking my ticket to Belfast and while reading Darwin’s blog, I notice that she has a hidden talent: forging travel documents. ;-) I quip that I may need her services because I'm having second thoughts about the Belfast trip; perhaps, she could work her magic to change my flight ticket from Belfast to Glasgow? Darwin responds by posting a comment on my blog. She jokes that she wishes she could change the ticket from Belfast to Glasgow, but she hasn’t reached that level of competence yet. Nics, a blogger from Belfast, sees the comment on my blog and writes, “What does Darwin mean about Belfast? If you are coming to my city you have to let me know!” Hmmm ... I never expected to meet Nics. I respond to her comment via a personal email. But, at most, I figure I’ll simply pose a few questions and solicit travel advice before making a decision about whether or not to go to Belfast. I send the email. She, kindly, emails me back. I email her again. She emails me again. The next thing I know, I not only commit to taking the trip to Belfast, the two of us agree to meet in person upon my arrival ... even though neither of us has ever met another blogger in person. Days pass and my departure dates draws nearer. I’m scared shitless. What if I don’t like her. What if she doesn’t like me? What if the whole thing is just really odd? What if we have nothing to talk about? I’m excited, scared, interested and freaked out at the same time. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m actually going to meet another blogger face-to-face. Finally, The Day arrives. I get off of the airport shuttle and place my feet on the ground in Belfast City. I feel myself grow nervous as I take the first steps toward the friendly-looking woman sitting on the bench. I know she is the right person when she cracks a very sweet smile and asks: “Are you Stolie?” We hug each other and then take to the city streets. We start talking and I don’t think that we ever stop. Nics is quite possibly the most friendly, kind, warm and hospitable person that anyone could ever meet. As we walk, she tells me about her life in Belfast and my ears soak up every single story. She takes me to see Queens University, Crown Liquor Saloon, the Grand Opera House, and the High Street. Later, when Nics has to go to work, she arranges for one of her friends, C, to pick up where she must leave off. C is equally delightful; together we see the Botanic Gardens, City Hall and the Ulster Museum. Before departing Belfast, I take a tour of the murals that I’d been dying to see for so many years and they are even more mind-blowing that I could have ever imagined. There’s even a mural of Frederick Douglass!! On the mural, he’s called a defender of Irish freedom and women’s rights as well as a champion of the abolition of slavery. Also, an abbreviated version of the following Douglass quote appears: “Perhaps no class of our fellow citizens has carried this prejudice against color to a point more extreme and dangerous than have our Catholic Irish fellow citizens, and yet no people on the face of the earth have been more relentlessly persecuted and oppressed on account of race and religion, than the Irish people.” After the mural tour, I have to leave to catch my plane to London. When it arrives, I switch on my cell phone and I already have a message from Nics. She wants to know if I had a good time and if I arrived back in London safely. I couldn’t have asked for a better “first experience” with meeting a fellow blogger. Nics, if you’re reading this, you HAVE TO come to New York!!! Please know that when/if you buy your ticket, you have a free place to stay and a wacky, personal tour guide as well. I think you would love it here. It doesn’t matter if the visit takes place next week, next month, next year or some other time in the future; whenever you come, it would be my sincere pleasure to return the warmth and hospitaily that you showered on me while I was in your lovely city. And, now, because I’ve been studying my Norn Iron phrasebook, I’m going to try to say “thank you” using only Norn Iron phrases. Okay? Here we go: “See me? See Nics? See Belfast/Noo Yorak? ‘S’wheeker! ... Wuz laverly ... Yer a gran lass, so y’ar!” See you in New York soon, I hope. DESSERT: The Snogging Story “To snog or not to snog?” That was the question, and I chose not to snog. Put simply, I wasn’t really interested in any of the Brit Boys that I met and I did not want to snog just for snogging sake. Sure, I saw a few hotties but those guys were more likely to stare shyly from across the room instead of approaching me. And, Mr. Helsinki was ridiculously cute, but we never exchanged contact info and I never went back to the place at which I met him. I guess I didn’t really put a lot of effort into it. And, as for the guys who did come onto me, I found a few of them slightly repulsive (e.g, one really old guy: I am going to say something and you can surmise from it what you may ... Want to come to my place?) On a related topic, I had a conversation about snogging with a British work colleague who works at a different company. (By the way, British Colleague is a total hottie. I sooo would have totally played tonsil hockey with him if I didn’t think it would make our next work-related meeting a bit, let’s say, odd.) At any rate, we discussed, at length, the difference between flirting in the US vs. the UK. Brits “try to pull” in very different ways than Americans “pick up” or “hook up.” One day, I’ll write a full post about that, but today is not that day. This post is already quite long ...