"I know you're American..."

Tuesday 6:27PM. Dublin, Ireland.

Uuuummmm.... What?

Today I put on my pretty summer dress and went to the Hugh Lane gallery to look at arts and shtuff. Then just decided to walk around and do a wee bit of shopping for the lads I'm staying with; as a tanks for letting my snore on their couch for so long.

That last sentence was super Irish. I'll try to stop being an ass.

Anyways.

As I was walking the streets, a man stopped me to try and collect money for a charity that helps a disease I've never heard of. And his opener was: "Sorry, I know you're American, but--"

........

I'm sorry, how do you know I'm american? And why are you sorry about it? I know that's not what he meant, and I'm completely overreacting to this, but it really bothered me. And as I'm writing this, I'm realizing that he saw the American Arrogance radiating off of me. But I thought I was a pretty unassuming American! He also seemed so bogus with no pamphlet about the charity, and he tried to sell me scratch off cards.... So, I took that as, "I know you're American, so let me try to sell you something stupid."

Listen, buddy, I'm not only American. I'm a New Yorker.

Werk.

Back to the arts I saw today... Here's a couple of pictures that I wasn't allowed to take. Some amazing stained glass pieces done by a Dublin native, Harry Clarke.

And, of course, a close up of Prince in a past life:

And a few from the Cliffs of Moher on Sunday:

And I know you all saw me posing at the edge of the cliff, but this is what it looked like when I looked down.....

I get dizzy looking at the pictures even still.