a cautionary tale

My friends. Back your hard drives up. Seriously! Tuesday I was in the library, doing the normal studying and such. I was on Lexis, looking up a document for class, when suddenly I was getting no response from my computer. Nothing. Nada. Zip. The mouse arrow just disappeared. Usually when a Mac pauses for a few moments to "think", a colorful pinwheel spins along, letting you know the computer is pausing but that all is well. The pinwheel didn't come up. So, I shut the computer off. And then I restarted it. And nothing came up but a white screen. I turned it off and tried it a little later. This time I left it on, just to see what would happen. Nothing.

So here is my advice. Back it up. I just assumed because I have a Mac that I would be fine. And I do have Apple Care, so I didn't have to pay for the new hard drive. However, they couldn't recover my data. I had all my photos, including my most recent frolic in Europe, saved on my computer and nowhere else. Now I can contact some of my fellow travelers and get their pictures. However, I spent two days in Heidelberg by myself. I took about 150 to 200 photos. They are gone. I was, gulp, working on a book. I had about 100 pages written (it was rough, I'll admit, but still, it was 100 pages). Gone. I do have the old hard drive in my possession. And I'm hoping that one day I'll find a generous soul to help me out or that I'll have the cash to retrieve it (Jeremy, the Genius Bar assistant at the Mac store, told me it runs about 800 smack-a-roonies!). Anyway, I would hate for anyone to have this happen to them. 

Oh, and if you have any pictures that you think I might be interested in having in my possession, please let me know and send them on. Or, if you have them on facebook or something, let me know. I'm going to be signing up for that so that I can get some photos from my class mates. 

Not So Scary Anymore

Class started last Monday. As usual, the professors had posted and sent out their assignments for the first day of class. And, as the well-prepared student I am, I read. I then re-read some of the information. After all, getting called on the first day of class can be nerve racking. Naturally, being prepared helps. After my experiences last year, I most certainly didn't want to be called on and have no answer. 

But then the strangest thing happened. The professors didn't call on us. I was a little surprised at this turn of events. They just talked to us, introduced the course, told us fun anecdotal stories. I kept wondering when the drilling was going to start. It didn't. Only one professor started a case on the first day. And there were very few questions. 

So, I guess they are done scaring us. Can't say I mind. But I'm still going to show up to class prepared. After all, I never know what will happen.

Heads up, Fish!

So I did the silliest, ditziest thing. Well, not the most disty thing I have ever done. That involves a trip to London. My friend Lauren's family still gets a good laugh out of that. Maybe it is just a travel thing with me, but apparently I don't know how to pay attention to dates and times on tickets. 

So, I was buying a ticket to come out to Utah last night. I had two windows open with two different itineraries, one for August 11 and one for August 7. I was hemming and hawing over the cost and what not then finally decided on a trip for Monday, August 11. I proceeded to book it, and then went to bed.

So my mom calls me this morning. She asks me about my trip and when I will get to Utah. I open the email from Travelocity to check it out. So I'm flying out tomorrow. Yes, people.  I booked the trip for August 7, not August 11. And it is a good thing my mom called and asked because I probably wouldn't have looked at the email again until Sunday when I was packing when I would have then realized, much to my horror, that I had booked the wrong flight. So, I'll be in Utah tomorrow night...great job, Fish. Way to go. 

Oh, and for those of you wondering what I did on my London excursion. Well, my friend Lauren and I made plans to go to London for spring break a few years back. We arrived at the airport around four in the afternoon, in plenty of time to enjoy a little dinner and get to our flight, leaving at 6:51 pm. So there we are in CPK, enjoying a little pizza, and Lauren pulls out the tickets. Oh we weren't leaving at 6:51. We were leaving at 6:15. Yes, I had transposed the numbers in a moment of numerical dyslexia. There we were, on the other side of the terminal from where we needed to be at it was almost 6:00 pm. We paid for our dinner as quickly as possible and proceeded to run down the terminal. I was in heals. We had to go through security...needless to say, we didn't make it. The plane was right there when we got to the gate. But the door was closed, and TSA regulations won't allow you to board. I thought Lauren was going to kill me. H@#$, I wanted to kill me. So we hiked it back up to the ticket counter where a very lovely and kind woman booked us for a flight the next day and then delayed our return flight by a day as well. So we didn't lose any time in London. And we didn't have to pay for it, either. Pretty nice of the lovely lady. I wanted to give her a big fat hug right then and there.

So, you would think that would have taught me to focus when setting up my itineraries for trips. I guess not!!!

Planes, trains and automobiles

When I got back from Europe, I was hoping for a little bit of time to relax. But that hasn't happened. I got off of the plane, and left a few days later for Virginia. My parents were visiting my brother and his family in Christiansburg, so I got on the train...and then the bus. The Greyhound, to be exact.  I know Greyhound has a rep. Still, I hoped it wouldn't be too awful. I hoped in vain. It was disgusting. The bus ride from DC to Charlottesville made me a little sick. The window next to my seat was smeared with grease...thick, oily grease from someone who had clearly fallen asleep. I guess cleaning up is not a priority. I shiver to think about what the bathroom must have looked like. I wouldn't have even ventured near it. Not in the most dire of emergencies!

But it was worth it to see my parents, my brother, his wife and their little boy. They have a cute little house and we went on hikes and walks and picnics. It was so nice to be out in nature, as I get very little of that here. I also loved playing with adorable little Ethan. He's such a cute, sweet boy. We got to visit Blacksburg and see Virginia Tech where my brother, Chey, is attending medical school. I'm a little jealous. One of these days I'll post Seton Hall's law school "campus". The school is in a sky scraper, which is pretty cool. But I miss the feel of a traditional campus. 

The bus ride back to DC was eventful. The woman driving the bus almost took out a mail box on the side of the road, corrected, and almost swerved into oncoming traffic. I felt a little frightened for my life. Then, when we got to Springfield, just outside of DC, she made a stop. When she went to get back on the freeway, she went the wrong way. So she gets on the mike and announces her mistake. But this is an area known as the spaghetti bowl, so you don't just turn around easily. Twenty minutes later we were headed in the right direction. I could hear her mumbling about "all the signs...so confusing!" I held my breath, hoping she would successfully maneuver onto north bound 395 and not the beltway. Oh brother. Then, as we were arriving in the city, she turned into tour guide and began narrating about the Pentagon and the monuments, etc. I kept thinking, lady! Focus on the road! Soon we arrived near the capital, close to Union Station where the bus stops. Several of the streets in the vicinity are not open to traffic, so she starts driving down one of them. All the while a cop is standing there waiving right in front of the window to get her to stop. She finally sees him after she almost hit the poor man. So she has to back up, honking the entire time, onto a street in DC. SCARY! A very  nice girl on the bus stood up, went to the front, and directed her into the station. She seriously had no clue. But my favorite is when I stood up and she asked me, "Sir, do you need your luggage? Oh, I mean, ma'am." Do I look like a boy? I'm pretty sure I don't!!!  I seriously wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. What an experience. Next time I book a ticket to Charlottesville, I'm making sure I do it in enough advance time that I have a spot on the train!!!

Anyway, now I'm back in Newark, madly working on finishing finals (two down, one to go) and looking forward to a trip to Utah in August. I'll start working as a research assistant soon, and I can't wait for that. Oh, and I was recently called as the Relief Society President at church. Man, I'm tired!!!

Kylemore Abbey and Connemara

This was another great day trip. A group of us went out to Kylemore Abbey and Connemara. Connemara is a really gorgeous area, with lots of lakes, rivers, mountains, and forests. It's famous for its ponies...I'm not sure why. It was incredible.

Kylemore Abbey is a Benedictine monastery and home to a girls' boarding school. (I wish I had gone there! No offense to SFHS, but really, talk about a cool experience.) However, this wasn't always the case. Originally, the castle was owned by Mitchell Henry, a wealthy politician from England, who had it built for his wife. I know, I know, who builds a castle for his wife? And where can I find a guy like that? On top of building her a castle, he also had a small cathedral built near the home, along with a lavish garden. However, after her death, he rarely spent time there. During WWI, the abbey was founded when Benedictine nuns fled Belgium. The castle had since passed from Henry's possession and the nuns were able to purchase it for a steal. (I can't remember all of the details of that part of the story...sorry!)

Krystal and me in the garden.

Me across the lake from the abbey/castle.

A lovely little waterfall near the cathedral.

A river that runs through the gardens.

The Cathedral.

Another picture from the gardens.

This is a fairy tree. The legend goes that if you make a wish under the tree, your wish will come true. So here I am, making my wish.

Part of our little group, Morgan, CJ, Krystal, me and Kevin, in Connemara. 

Me in Connemara.

A stream in Connemarra.

Me near a lake.

PO-TAY-TOES... fry em', mash em', boil em' in a stew!

Kelly...digging into her potata...

Little quiz. Name the following three famous spuds...

1.  

2.

3.

Jen, Kelly, and me...after enjoying a delicious lunch. Bonus points...see if you can name some of the other spuds on the wall behind us.

 Me, happily digging into my potata!

How great is this? An enormous baked potato covered in cheese, ham, beans, and a yummy sauce. It was, as Kevin (a fellow student) would say, delightful!

And people on our trip had the gall to say that the Irish can't cook! Imagine!!! What with Bangers and Mash, Shepherd's Pie, chicken, ham and dressing, and excellent chocolates, I have no idea why they would say this. Here is a little (or huge) example of one of the many delicious items I sampled (or devoured, take your pick). My favorite little spot, and one I am tempted to copy here in the states (if only I had the capital and desire to run a restaurant, of which I have neither) is called Couch Potatas. YUMMY!!! Basically, they make baked potatoes topped with sundry, delicious combinations. As we all know, the Irish are famous for their potatoes, and this restaurant proves it. If you ever find yourself in Galway, you best find your way to Couch Potatas. I highly recommend!

A Rainy Day…in Ireland

Surprise, suprise! It rains in Ireland...a lot! They don't call it the Emerald Isle for nothing. And it didn't become the Emerald Isle because its hot and dry. No, in order to get green like that, you have to endure the rain. But, in spite of the rain, the Irish are very friendly, happy folks. It's a little surprising, considering how much rain they have. But I digress...yet again.

So, I suppose you can't win them all. Most of my day trips were really nice, all things considered. But not the day we went to Aran Islands. No, the day we get out on a boat, it not only rains, it pours, and it not only pours, it gusts. It was windy and cold and quite frankly, a little miserable. I'm actually shocked that I didn't get sea-sick. Usually a rocking boat on white caps will do me in. But I survived it. However, I didn't love the island. Sure, it was interesting. But we were stuck there for about six hours when all we really needed was two - three max. To top it off, almost everything was closed on the island because there was a power outage. No lie. So when we went into a restaurant for food, the choices were limited. And later, when we went to a pub to wait for our boat (and get out of the rain), most of them were closed. Still, I'm going to chalk it up to one of my truly Irish experiences...

The island is famous for forts that were built centuries ago. This was part of the trail leading up to the fort. it really gives you an idea of how wet we got.

A cemetery near a church. Keep in mind that only a little over 700 people inhabit this particular island.  

Me, in front of the fort, trying to be a good sport in spite of the weather.

Another thing about this area of Ireland...it is really rocky. So what did they do? They took the rocks, built walls, and farmed the ground. I'm telling you, they must have worked for years just to get a little plot ready to farm. No joke. There are so so so so so so many rocks! I decided to help out a little!

A view of the sea from the fort. A little like the Cliffs of Moher, but less impressive.

A little shelter inside the fort.

The sea below the fort.

An unobstructed view of the fort.