Honeymoon: Day 7 <> OR <> This IS the End

Sad, but its nearly over. If only I wasn't a cheap bastard, if only I had a real job, if only I could've given my beautiful wife the honeymoon she deserves. Hopefully, I'll be able to give her something better when I grow up.

So, Dublin.. pretty feckin' cool.  We stayed in this vodka themed hotel one night in the last city.

Absolute Hotel & Spa--I think it was called.  A cool city. Nice people. Everywhere we went they were excited to meet Americans and talk about America.  We pretty much got the same question:

"Where are you from?"
Kansas City.
"Kansas.. what is Kansas famous for?"
Well..
"OH YEA! Dorothy!"

We were on our way to see the Book of Kells at Trinity College, a pretty cool place. Dublin mixes in the new with the old well. It is a city I could die in.

This is the library after viewing the book. There were a bunch of fat assholy french people with sharp elbows filling the space beyond this frame. That douche on the left just had to get in the shot as well.

The library was full of busts, Locke and Demosthenese among them.

We set out to accomplish one final task, to have a pint in the oldest known pub in Dublin.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED:

Ireland is pretty much over, for now. There just wasn't enough time so, to be continued. I didn't even get to see the North, where my people are from and DUH, G.O.T. is filmed!

Onward to tiny planes and sleepless nights!

Honeymoon: Day 6 <> OR <> The EMO Post

So, we went to The Cliffs of Moher.  This place was amazingly beautiful, expansive, and crowded--but luckily it was so expansive, wet, and cold that we were able to hike along the cliff and find some solitude.

This location was factored in for more than just its beauty. After my brother died I decided that I was going to take a small thimble size portion of his ashes with me to amazing locations and scatter them until I had scattered all the ashes I have--which isn't very much to begin with--hence, the thimble size portion.

Here is a shot of me being cool in our rental. This was what the coast was like leading up to the cliffs. We stopped several times to check out the landscape. We called this area Dragonstone.

When we got to the cliffs we hiked a ways, I didn't want anyone to bother us, PLUS, I didn't know if I would get in trouble, PLUS, I didn't really know what to do or say.

Along the way I thought up some real deep words to say about scattering through the fog and resting deep below, returned to our ancestors, blah blah--I said it, and meant it all--but it was for me and my brother. It was a moving moment, for a moment. The fog rolled in and enveloped Lydia and I. Once it cleared, the fear of death was upon me when I could see how dead I would be if I slipped.

I miss my brother. I can't stop missing him. These scattering ceremonies are a cheap substitution or his company. I can't fill the hole inside.

Honeymoon: Day 5 <> OR <> Drinking, Castles, & Stuff

So we've hit up like 3 castles and some fancy houses. You pass so many old towers along the highways its crazy. Stuff in Ireland is old. Everything is beautiful, even their highways. There aren't obnoxious powerlines, fences, or billboards everywhere. There are stone or hedgewalls lining the property lines and roads.

We stopped in this little fishing village on a whim--more like, we were sick of driving and wanted a beer.  The place was pretty dull, really, but they had a pub and the place was simply beautiful.  The houses and businesses were the same as any old town we passed through, but the difference was the buildings weren't torn down to make way for cheap looking strip malls.

The town spiraled down the side of a cliff. We parked up by this old catholic church and went inside. There was a LONNNG traditional ceremony going on inside.  We walked down the roads, alleyways, and sidewalks until we reached the shore. There were a bunch of old fishermen standing around pointing and gossiping at the few tourists passing by. We didn't know it but we had stumbled onto a landmark, one of the last stops where The Titanic picked up all those Irish people that were locked in the lower decks and left to die like dogs--yea, this was where most of them folks jumped on board.

Here is a cool pic from Bunratty Castle. This place had a badass hall. I really wanted to film a scene with natural light there.

Honeymoon: Day 3 <> OR <> Finally Sum Fuckin' Fun

Kickin' off the first REAL day of the 'moon with a kick ass Irish breakfast--they loaded us with delicious meat and pastries--and stoppin' off at the first friggin' place that comes to mind besides Leprechauns and green when most of us 'muricans think Ireland--BLARNEY CASTLE.

The first thing I learned about the castle that I didn't know is that it rests on HUGE grounds. They're beautiful and fun for the whole family.

But if you're lookin' to kiss the stone, you've gotta hit up the castle itself. It was my first real castle and pretty fuckin' cool. You can check it out from head to toe.

And, of course, once you climb all the way to the top you can kiss the disgusting stone of a thousand lips. There are two old guys there who feel you up and charge you $1.50 for it too--its optional, but, you better PAY or they look at you sideways.

It was pretty cool. There are a lot of other places on the grounds which I wont go into here as we're in a hurry to hit up our first pub in town.

Honeymoon: Day 2 <> OR <> Packt Like Sardines Ina Tin Can

So, things worked out--I guess. As all things in life, honeymoons never seem to work out quite as planned. We spent a whole friggin' day flying around the world. Our first plane was great--spaciously sitting together and what-not. But when we stepped onto the plane for Ireland it became painfully clear that the voyage was going to be miserable.

We were separated, first of all, with no chance of shuffling seats. I was packed in with a couple GIANT bros--apparently we were traveling with a college group--but at least I had a window seat, or so I THOUGHT.  The seats were right up against each other, narrow isles, ZERO leg room. My knees were touching the seat in front of me and so the two GIANTS to my left had to spread their legs and hang over into my narrowing space in order to fit. Lydia was sitting with a much smaller young gentleman and sleeping middle aged woman.. I'm sure she has complaints, but I didn't want to hear them much after my OMFG I CAN"T SLEEP and THIS GUY STINKS horror.

They served us a frozen TV dinner and mediocre snacks in just the proper increments to prevent sleep if you were somehow able. I mostly played the shit movies they had On Demand and did my best to find a happy place. I didn't get up at all during the flight. It was too difficult. The GIANTS would have to get up and make everyone else around us uncomfortable so I just sat there and watched Quartet. It was pretty obvious but attempting to redirect the film and think up better lines and plot points kept me going. Next I watched Skyfall, again--but it was good. Started A Good Day to Die Hard, but couldn't finish it--it was during this film that I almost fell asleep but was interrupted by peanuts and ginger ale. I spent the remainder of the trip watching The Life of Pi, a great film. I was so delirious at this point that I could really identify with the main character.

We landed, exhausted. Rented a car. Drove down the coast line with low tolerance and luckily no other-side-of-the-road mishaps. Our first night was at a golf resort in Blarney. The beds were AWESOME. Lydia slept in "late". I slept until about 4am, got out of bed at about 5am--when their shitty 4 channels no longer amused me--and I walked around on the golf course until sunrise. It was windy and chilly but well worth it. There were beautiful blue greens fading to innumerable hues all around me as the sun crept in.

I got back to the room before the sun was  up proper and jumped back into bed for a  bit. I held my wife for  a minute before waking her for our first Irish breakfast and trek back into town to kiss the stone.

Honeymoon: Day 1 <> OR <> Never Trust A Travel Agent

We spent the day gathering all the last minute items and wrapping up loose ends. Dropped off the dog, picked up cat food and outlet adapters. We read and reread our itinerary and airline rules. My biggest concern was whether they'd let me through with a thimble of my brother's ashes to scatter at the Cliffs of Moher.

When we arrived two hours before our flight at 5pm we were informed that the itinerary, updated 4 days ago on the 16th, was incorrect and our plane left the gate as we approached the check-in counter. After a long argument over the phone with a lady from Jersey, our travel agency scheduled a flight for tomorrow at 10:58am. They refunded us a whopping $300 because we're "only missing our first night's stay" in Kilkenny. I wanted to choke the bitch for that one.

So, we returned home and tried to pretend we were still on vacation.. we ordered Minsky's Pizza and watched The Guard. It was one of the only Irish films that didn't seem too depressing. I mean, really--take a look--it is hard to find an Irish film that isn't about the IRA, prison, political upheaval, Leprechauns, or Selkies. Also, I had seen most of those films anyway. I really liked The Guard, it had a muted personality filled with wit and a dry plot. It was character driven and the actors did a great job.

The plan now is to arrive in Dublin on Wednesday at 10am and immediately drive through Kilkenny in a rounda-outta-the-fuckin-way route to Blarney. We have tickets we paid for to tour the castle--so hopefully we'll have enough time to make it there and still hit up the sights we intended to see in Blarney.

I have started reading James Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. I haven't really read past the bio and introduction but I am already excited to get started. I know Joseph Campbell loves Joyce. He quotes from him a lot and refers to him as the most important modern writer. Others have told me that they've liked his later works but still have no idea what A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is about. They talk about it like a reading marathon or endurance test. I am intrigued.

Already, in the introduction by Seamus Deane, I identify with the main character through the writer's descriptions--as I'm sure most people might be. This line in particular related:  Stephen, as a child, as boy and as young man, is seduced time and again by siren voice -- parental, political, religious, sexual, literary -- but concedes ultimately only to his own voice, or to the ventriloquial versions of his own voice that he assigns to his 'soul'.  The writer also quotes from the text. One line I appreciated:  The exercise of authority might be sometimes (rarely) questionable, its intentions, never.

I just got a copy of the 1967 film adaptation of his later book Ulysses. I really want to read the novel, I feel like I already have since Truby's screenwriting book The Anatomy of Story breaks it down for examples of good storytelling--I used Truby's book as the guide to my first full length screenplay. I think I'm going to take a break and watch that now as I doubt it would be something my beautiful new wife would be interested in. Will follow up with thoughts and more adventures of Honeymooning.

Wedding Bells

I married the beautiful woman who changed my life today.  It was a lovely day.  Evening spent dancing in the moonlight.  Photo by Cory Hinesley

Lots of great wedding photos by Brandon Forrest Frederick