the last i heard from you, you were screaming 'handle it!'

As my more devoted readers will know, I went to Belfast last weekend. I didn't see quite as much as I wanted because the timings didn't work out unless we either took the bus back instead of the train, or spent Sunday night there as well, which means that I didn't see Giants Causeway :( But, I did see the funniest museum ever--the Ulster Museum clearly doesn't get as much government-sponsored lovin' as the National Museum in Dublin, probably because the Brits wouldn't throw as large of a percentage of their culture budget at a museum in Belfast as the Irish would at the state museum in Dublin. The museum had clearly decided to keep a 'temporary' exhibit around for a few extra years because they needed to fill space, but they never replaced the posters saying that the exhibit would end in 2004. Everything was laid out in some strange, inexplicable order, and the coolest thing in my opinion was a gigantic skeleton of a ridiculously-large Irish deer from back in the day when mammals were larger and more exciting. But, the museum was free, so I can't really complain. The gardens around the museum were amazing, and made me wish that I had a garden of my own, even though I have yet to test whether or not I have a green thumb; I'll have to get some plants when I get back to Cali, so that I can promptly travel for weeks at a time and kill them all off by accident. Maybe I'll have to channel my grandfather and have cacti instead.

Sunday, we did a black cab tour of some of the more troubled areas of Belfast; even though it seems impossible that there could still be religious wars in Western Europe in the 21st century, Belfast really was a warzone for a significant period of time, and has only started to really recover in the past few years. There seems to be a pervading sense of optimism, as evidenced by how many high-class hotels are being built in the city center. But, just last week a Catholic kid was beaten to death by a bunch of Protestants. There are a few working-class neighborhoods that seem unlikely to ever get over their mutual hatred of each other, and their neighborhoods are still divided by miles-long, barbed-wire-topped fences. It's hard to imagine why the religions hate each other, since a fight between them seems to be, ideologically speaking, a bit like the Methodists and Presbyterians trying to kill each other. While I am on some level amused by the idea of my grandmother and Lorena throwing molotov cocktails at each other's houses, it just seems so implausible--and yet with the thousands of deaths on both sides, the violence superceded the religion centuries ago.

Anyway, Belfast was depressing but very interesting, since I like history. Also, we stayed in a posh hotel that specialized in very dark interiors; the lounge was decorated in purple velvet and ebony (or faux-ebony) wood, and the lighting throughout the hotel was at that minimal, bordello level necessary for showing the men how pretty the whores are without hinting at the visible indicators of venereal disease. Or, at least, that's what I thought--I'm sure other people would have thought 'chic' instead. Clearly my overwrought imagination needs to start producing prose for my romance novel, but I prefer to discuss decor instead.

Today was thoroughly uninteresting, tomorrow promises to be more of the same, and I just need to get caught up on my work since I'm going away again this weekend--three weekends away in a row makes for some difficult work prioritizations. I'm sure I'll handle it, but for now it's time to sleep!