Oh, Play That Thing

Spotify!

2011-07-25T06:19:00.000-07:00

Hey ya'll!!

So lately I've been really into my band Lightning Jar. We've had tons of really great shows and even seem be bringing out some fans to our shows. We love it down here in Asbury Park and are so thankful that so many people want to hear original music. It's very refreshing, seriously. Our next show is at a free festival in Bayville, NJ, called the Soulsational Music and Wellness Festival. It's geared towards promoting a clean and healthy lifestyle, along with music, and plenty of love. We couldn't be more excited to be playing at 3pm on the Main Stage for such a great cause. Find out more at www.lightningjar.org or on our Facebook page.

On a personal level, I'm really pumped about the release of Spotify, which is allowing me to produce my playlists with a broader range of tunes and share them with people even more easily than before. You might recall my previous playlist, Atmosphere, which was made entirely with YouTube. That's a little awkward though because it requires a full video. This is no BS, just the music. I seriously recommend the application, as well as following me on it.

Currently in my ears: "Burning" by Whitest Boy Alive. It's gonna be a great day!!

A hectic weekend.

2011-06-20T07:03:00.000-07:00

It was, at the title makes quite obvious, a hectic weekend. I was still proud of being able to get my stretched done for all but ONE day. 2 outta 3 aint bad, right? Let's review my salutations...

Friday night after work I had a short window between getting out of work and heading to the recording studio to do some overdub work for my band Lightning Jar. (lightningjar.org) So, while Nate took a shower and got dressed, I took to the wooden floor. It was funny, because while I was doing well with my stretches, Nate walked in the room at around Pose 7. In my mind, I didn't want to say anything, but I couldn't help but make a comment about the humor of things. "I bet you think this is sexy," I said, as I went into Downward Dog. Sexy, indeed. The night went well, and my head was clear.

Saturday was a no go. I did go running in the morning, but that night, we had a party. A crazy party. I spent all day preparing for it, cleaning the apt, etc. etc. My band played in house along with 2 other of our friends bands. It was a dream come true. I like to think the party, in all its chaos, was my meditation.

Sunday morning I had to peel myself out of bed for work (yuck!). When I returned home, underslept, to a slightly beer coated home, I decided to do some cleaning and then my stretches. It was cool, because while I am not supposed to be thinking about anything but the present, I couldn't help but review some of the weekend in my mind as I stretched. I don't think this is a bad thing necessarily. It would be worse to be thinking forward; to fantasize. I was really happy, actually, thinking about it all, doing my stretches.

I think what I am getting out of this, 5 days into it, is that most importantly from the Wake-Up Project, I am taking away the importance of having your daily alone time, no matter how well it goes.

Day 2: Assault with a handbag.

2011-06-16T07:00:00.000-07:00

I think my meditative practices began at a good time. I say this because day 2, Wednesday, brought me to NYC for some job interviews, which in turn also brought me some chaos. Allow me to provide a brief synopsis of Sean's lovely hump-day: early morning, sleep-lacked preparation to NYC; missed train; way too expensive parking ticket; a nearly fatal interaction with a pedestrian; pedestrian then assaults Sean with a shopping bag; Sean resigns to difficulty and pays $30.00/hr for parking. I regress.

So, to say the least, I was quite grateful to return home to a serenely empty apartment and a majestic setting sun in beautiful Asbury Park. There, like yesterday, I took to my stretches. To salute. To retreat. And perhaps most importantly, to forget.

I took the same stance facing the windows and the setting sun on Deal Lake and began. Today, as an experienced day 2 sun salutation-er, I particularly focused on anticipating what habits to expect from my brain: like yesterday, I knew I would be thinking about the blog more than the stretching, phrasing sentences about certain realizations as they happened. So, in order to curtail this quantifying, forward thinking, I devised a plan to steady my mind on the present. I decided that quietly speaking the number of the stretch I performed to myself, while simultaneously visualizing the number in front of me in the room would work best. This way, my ears and my eyes were forced to focus on the stretch at hand.

It worked swimmingly.

Now, I wouldn't say my stretches were perfect. Stretch 2 I found myself formulating a sentence for the blog. Stretch 8 I messed up on a breathing pattern. However, I noticed that my visual and auditory aid helped me to more easily regain focus. It always brought me back to center. I was able to get back on the path. More importantly, I think these stretches were extremely effective at the end of a particularly stressful day. In fact, after Pose 10, I wanted to continue the serenity, so I retreated to the beach for half and hour. I stretched in the sand and sat facing the ocean. I watched a little dog run around incessantly. I can't complain, living at the beach in the summer time.

(I know this one was a bit blunt, but I gotta run to work!) Love Sean

The Wake-Up Project, Day 1

2011-06-14T05:51:00.000-07:00

OK, so I've been cheating on you Blogger. Yes, with another blog website. My band's website, lightningjar.org (run so nicely by WordPress), as well as our Twitter(twitter.com/lightningjar) have been the homes of my mind-blabbering "tweets," if you will. However, since those mediums are less personal and more band-oriented, I have returned to Blogger for the first time in months with a personal task at hand.

The task's inspiration may be directly attributed to my dear friend, Dr. Derby (doctorderby.blogspot.com), who in all of her glory, has begun and dedicatedly reported on a venture she likes to call, "The Mindfulness Project." In the MP (as we shall now refer to it) Derby has promised herself to 15 minutes of pseudo-meditation every day over the course of 15 days. After her mindful minutes, she reports her discoveries; if we are lucky, she posts photos, too. (Don't expect the same visual stimulation from me, at all.) Her journey is really quite nice. Me likey.

So, both in honor and in rebuttal to my good friend's project, I've decided to take part on my own adventure, one slightly more catered to my needs. I shall call my creation The Wake-Up Project, and it shall be slightly more dynamic than my accomplices' meditative stillness. So, every morning, for 10 days straight, I propose to complete 10 Sun Salutations. The goal is to achieve, through an activity both mental and physical, more awareness and infatuation with the present moment. This way, I will not be so nervous about the ticking clock and getting things done; I will WAKE-UP, if you will. Also, I'll get some physical benefits out of the meditative process. It's a 2-for-1 deal, really.

DAY 1

He-hem. OK. So, the Wake-Up Project. Right. Today was Day 1, and it wasn't so perfect, to be quite honest. Standing stoutly in red-plaid boxer shorts in the middle of my living room, facing the windows and the blue sky (thank God the skies are blue today and no longer grey, I thought), I began. If you don't know, Sun Salutations consist of a cyclical series of poses. One begins standing, and over the course of three or four stretching positions, finds his or herself lying on their belly, where they then will repeat the stretches in reverse until they have returned to their original standing position. Breathing is a constant focus, as each pose warrants alternating breaths: pose 1, inhale; pose 2, exhale, etc., etc.

Overall, salutations 1-5 were much more focused than the last 5. I began the exercise feeling physical and awake, motivated even. I admired the bones in my feet, and my deep breaths relaxed me. After the first 5, I must have become bored, or something: I started noticing the sand stuck to the bottom of my feet, and had to try pretty hard to stop my mind from thinking about what I was going to eat for breakfast. Actually, I came up with the idea for the project and this very blog-post around Pose 6 and had the first paragraph written in my head by Pose 9, which shows you exactly where my mind had wandered. I did manage to complete Pose 10 focused, though. I suppose my 6 thru 9 mind-wandering shows some sort of focus, because I guess I'm thinking about thinking about Sun Salutations, as opposed to something completely random like my favorite song or book or my insecurities; but still, that is not what I am going for-- that type of thinking is still too dream-like for me, way too far into the future. Ideally, I'd like to be physical, aware of my body, noting the breaths, completely serene, and completely present for the entire 10 stretches-- not 15 minutes ahead of myself, already writing my blog in my head. However, I am particularly grateful of my lack of concentration on Day 1, because it brought me here. Actually, I didn't even know today was Day 1 until around Pose 6. So thank you, Pose 6 mind-wandering.

However, next time I strive to not think about the blog post that comes after the stretch. Maybe I should post before my exercise? Maybe I should post much further after, and let it all seep in? If any of you have any recommendations (wink wink, Derby...), please, do not hesitate to comment. Of course, in collaboration with the Wake-Up Project, I will see you tomorrow. Hopefully, by the end of that exercise, I will have awaken. You're on, Derby.

Atmosphere.

2011-02-27T20:56:00.000-08:00

The following songs have been assessed and respectively attributed with an "atmospheric" quality, or the ability to render one's environment, mood, emotions, or way of thinking. That's why I called the playlist, Atmosphere. In case you are interested, here's why I chose and placed the songs the way I did.

Bon Iver's "Babys" starts off Atmosphere with his classically haunting tone, which is accentuated by a repeating piano but ultimately gives way to moments of clarity and bliss. This song (along with his many others), brings for me thoughts and hopes for warmth and serenity. But the song also ends with a sense of excitement-- euphoria even-- for such hope. The next two tunes, "New Year" and "Sprawl II" were chosen for their ability to keep this excitement alive. Their fast and harder sound, alongside lyrics that accentuate the individual amidst a chaotic, changing world keep the beat up, steady, and moving. When you get to tracks 4-6 (Sufjan Stevens "Decatur," Gorillaz "On Melancholy Hill" and Whitest Boy "Don't Give Up"), the mood changes, though, to a somewhat jovial, sarcastic, lighthearted and fun environment; still, though, the songs integrally maintain an "atmospheric" peacefulness about the playlist. Sufjan sings of the importance of acknowledging figures like step-mothers; Gorillaz sing of a fictional, fantastic world of love and escape("If you can't get what you want/ then you come with me"); The vocals in Whitest Boy Alive's "Don't Give Up"'s are almost comically soothing, but relay an obviously quite positive message.

Jose Gonzalez marks an important turn in the track listing at track 6. "Down the Line" is pensive, moody, and dark. "I see problems down the line; I know that they're mine" he darkly acknowledges. His dark words transition the playlist well into the serene, contemplative 'Carry Me, Ohio," and Washed Out's "Feel It All Around." These two songs uphold contemplativeness like Gonzalez, but turn his isolated, inwardly tortured solipsism into a positive and nostalgic mood of connection a to the outside world "Down the Line" ignores. The nostalgia transforms into one of ambiguity in "Hello Love" and "Carolina," songs of yearning for past relationships, with both people and location, respectively. The Be Good Tanyas's Frazey Ford's words ("Hello love/ my old friend,/ Sure is good to see you again,") play upon the ambiguous feelings regarding former loved ones-- strikingly similar to M Ward's words which acklowedge, "I used to feel liek California with baby eyes so blue./ Now I feel like Carolina, I split myself in two." If you can't understand these two artist's ambivalence about the difficulty to move on from a loved person or place, I dont know why you are reading my blog in the first place.

The Fleet Foxes latest, "Helplessness Blues" closes out Atmosphere with a big impression. Robin Pecknold's towering voice and harmonies pay tribute to imagination, ideal pastoral landscapes, memory, and deepest desires. At about 2:30, the song changes from one of generic folk to one of an epiphany. "If I had an orchard,/ I'd work till I'm sore," he says idealistically. His hopes finish the song with words that acknowledge a dream: "One day I'll be like the man on the screen." These words are unassumed(they come out of nowhere!) but leave a strong mark, reminding the listener of dreams once forgotten, or perhaps still held.

I hope you all enjoy my playlist. - SJM

Mixtape a Masterpiece

2011-02-15T10:02:00.000-08:00

Whatever happened to mixtapes?? Or maybe I should more appropriately ask, what ever happened to me??

I used to mixtape all the time back in the day. It was my hobby. I started out with recording songs onto tape from the radio (making sure I listened to the countdowns like Z100's 9 @ 9-- that's when you'll never miss a beat), and soon moved to the Compact Disc medium. That shit was on the reg. For friends, love interests(doesn't always work), and yes even FAMILY! But somewhere between high school and now, though, I began to stray.

It might have been the invention of the iPod shuffle, but I actually think I personally became more consumed with the world of the album, which I guess isn't such a bad thing. I really started to become curious in an artist's full length effort, and I still am. It's fulfilling that way, no doubt. But something's missing and I think I have rediscovered... THE MIXTAPE.

And so, I begin my rekindling of an old adventure: pasting songs in front of and behind eachother to make a new statement. It's the listener's true art form, one might say, and actually not that easy. After channeling the likes of John Cusack from HIGH FIDELITY, I might ask myself, "How can I assemble my multiple beloved artists' work to create my own message? What is it I want to say with their words? And what a beautiful artform! Some things just can't be said better than they already have been, and this is my homage to such truth.

While I obviously can't post all the mp3s on my blog, I can post the track listing and links to YouTube. Perhaps I can make playlist on YouTube that I can link to. (If you have advice for the logistics, please get back to me!)

But even YouTube might not have all the tunes I have for this one. This time, I'm really calling some tunes up from the minor leagues. Either way, I descend into the abyss of mixtaping. This installment's theme: Atmosphere. Stay tuned, ya'll.

Beating a Dead (but oh so beautiful) Drum

2011-02-05T21:27:00.000-08:00

Time and time again, in conversation with new and old friends, strangers, on Facebook or on the blog, etc., I've talked about how much I love the music of Bon Iver. It's somewhat ridiculous, actually. But amazingly, I'm still learning about why I love this beautiful music so much. Tonight, touched by it once again, I felt I had to share.

The story of Justin Vernon going to his cabin in the woods, etc., is very romantic and all that jazz. After ending a 5 year love relationship and a 10 year-long involvement with a band, Justin Vernon was bed stricken with Mono-nucleosis that attacked his liver, and set out to go back home to Wisconsin to heal himself of this extremely traumatic series of events. What came of his time in the woods in his father's hunting cabin was an album that attempted not only to heal his physical and emotional wounds, but to reconnect with himself, and re-adjust the course of his life more in accordance with that self.

I suppose the reason I love the product of Bon Iver's trip so much, the story it brings, and the feeling it conveys is its never ceasing, ever-developing relation to my own life. Not that I live in the woods or got mono nucelosis in my liver. But the album has been such a large portion of my last few years that I've found myself-- whether I know it or not-- leaning on it, using it like a crutch to remind myself what it is I think is important in life, and ultimately-- who I am. Sometimes I wonder, though, if it is not me that bends, but the music.

So what does the album mean to me? What have I been through at the slight age of 24? This is a tough question, but I suppose where I get my kicks with the album, ultimately, is its ability to help me reconvene with myself, that long-forgotten thing inside of me that i forgot to pay attention to for a good stretch there. Especially coming right out of college. That sucked. I'm trying to develop here-- not only develop, but develop well. But what is "well?" I asked myself so many times. Is that what Mom and Dad and Big Brother want? In a world of constant, face paced communication, I've been forced to make decisions for the first time in my life that have somewhat large consequences. I guess somewhere along that line, in that blur, regretfully, I forgot to make those decisions for myself.

Until that day I nearly went crazy, and decided to move down to Asbury Park to help rediscover what it was I wanted in my life. Its no Wisconsin hunting cabin, and its not home, but its my new home, and things I feel are finally on the track I want them to be on. And on that day I nearly went crazy, and today still, this music is there to tell me that's what I should have done all along-- follow my heart.

So I think ya'll should give it another listen. What prompted this blog was an interview that can be listened to here. I highly recommend it, obviously.

-S

I Want to Get a Camera...

2011-02-02T21:34:00.000-08:00

...so I can post pictures of everything I'm doing. Arent' blogs with visuals that much more interesting?

Until then, here's the scoop:

My new guitar, a Hofner CT Club, has arrived in all its beauty. This aesthetic comes both in sound and taste. Never a bad idea to buy a new guitar! Unless of course you can't afford rent, and I'm glad i just barely made it over that cut.

Today I met with my beloved professor/poet Rachel Hadas to discuss my poems "After the War' and "The Red Book," both of which are listed previously in my blog. She loved "the red book" especially and gave great editing comments for both; that is, until the power went out, and we were forced to leave the building. My class was cancelled 2 weeks in a row, and like Rachel said, "we can't get any traction this semester!"

Tonight was Lightning Jar's second night in a row at the studio, starting on our 4th track, overdubbing vocals and adding some sweet instruments-- like my acoustic guitar out of a Stanley organ speaker-- for some unique twists to our folky sound. I can't wait to hear how this all comes out. Check us out here.

I just added sister-of-best friend/friend Jenny Pomeroy's blog to my sidebar list. Please follow her on her journey to achieve mental and physical balance the wonderful world of Ayurveda.

I really really wish i had a digicam to show this all to ya'll, but until then, just enviiission it in your mind.

SJ

Breakfast at Sulimays

2011-01-30T07:16:00.001-08:00

This is ridiculous, but brilliant and hilarious.

I also agree with the majoritive comments on "Blood Bank"; that being its incredible.

the red book

2011-01-28T09:30:00.000-08:00

you still have my book
the red one, that talks
of a mother who killed her own
and the house that haunted
such a memory.
how strange that the book remains
with you, like a house in itself,
dark, and full of ghostly visions.
should i take the red book
back, i will begin a mortgage of my own.
the book of ghosts will sit upon my shelf
like a house,
small,
with arms and legs,
crying beneath a white sheet.
if i were to burn the book,
would the sheet disappear as well?
i ask, though i already know
the answer: that a memory,
like a god, or a virus,
never leaves its home.

-sjm
1/13/2011

So Inspired.

2011-01-27T06:17:00.000-08:00

So it's been a while.

But that doesn't mean I don't have a ton of things to blog about. I'm mostly inspired by my great friend Omar, AKA The Latent Fox, whose blog is just intimidatingly diverse, eclectic, particular, talented, inspired, and most of all, inspiring. He makes it seem as though a bowl of cereal is interesting. And rightly so, 'cause sometimes, it is interesting, right? Please, please read his blog.

Asbury Park is so great. It snowed again last night, and the blanket of snow covering the town is just beautiful. After shoveling out his car with our hands, Nate and I walked to the water today to check out the huge, barreling waves. So cool to see surfers walking through the snow with their boards, no fear at all, proud of their inconvenient hobby. We might go for a surf later.

My band Lightning Jar has been doing awesome, booking and playing gigs left and right, as well as begun our studio recording at Retromedia studios with John Noll in Red Bank, NJ. We are doing 10 songs, and John is really pushing us to perform not only to our best ability, but also encourages a relaxed, spontaneous environment. The album is being done primarily on analog tape before being shot over to Pro Tools for Master editing. The recording should be done around March. Here is a shot from Day 1 in the studio taken by John. Our next gig is 2/4 at the boardwalk bar/mexican restaurant Langosta Lounge.

I've been listening to so much music lately. namely Abbey Road (side 2 especially!), Blood Bank EP by Bon Iver, M. Ward's End of Amnesia, and anything by Wilco, but especially Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. These are all old albums, but I feel like I'm making new memory- rememory-- for them all.

Nate has been getting me really into photography lately, so while he shoots away on his digital 35mm, I was clicking away at his
Nikon FE 35mm film camera, circa 1987. Just got the prints back, and not exactly everything is so great. but here are a few photos...

1. records
2. yamaha
3. husky figure

I love you all, sorry for the sparse posting, but my new aim is to be more regular!

Sean

"After the War"

2010-10-26T08:10:00.000-07:00

After the war
Two lovers sat naked
By the riverside holding one another.
Across the water lay a village
Whose people’s tongues the lovers could not digest,
Whose rituals the they could not understand.
Soon the villagers took notice
of the naked lovers,
Observing the movement,
Judging the body,
Calculating the chemistry
Through tiny tiny lenses.
The villagers’ voice sounded across the water
In a wave like laughter, bringing a shameful pink hue
To the ivory skin of the lovers,
who suddenly removed their hands from one another’s bosom
As they became more and more aware of their naked state.
Both now cold and chagrin, the woman raged and wept.
The man fled.
And all were left to wonder if it were the work of
the war, the village, or the two lovers
Who had done such harm.

- sean j marshall

Summertime, When the Livings Easy

2010-09-15T17:43:00.001-07:00

Long time- no post. I thought a change of season called for a long overdue blog.

The summer started off with a bang-- a 10 day trip up and down the East Coast of Australia, surfing with my New Zealand inhabiting friend Nate. We had a hell of a time, taking our boards everywhere we went, eating tons of delicious Meat Pies, and sleeping within feet from wild Kangaroos. We actually surfed with Dolphins at a break called Crowdy Head Bay National Park. When we turned around to see if there were any onlookers, we only saw small families of kangaroos on the beach! It was a sight.

After the trip, I started working at Willow Lake Day Camp. It was my 2nd summer there, and it would prove to come through with yet again more great memories. I guess I just loved being outside everyday, being physical again. The kids were both great and difficult, but mostly just great.

Now that school has started again, I hunker down for my last year (let's hope) of Graduate School at Rutgers. My English MA degree is going well, and I cant believe I'm only 15 credits and a ridiculously difficult test away from passing. As soon as that is done, I am sure to look for some time off to reengage with my music (which I have kept up with), as well as some more surfing.

To prepare for that ROUGH transition, Nate Jason and myself are applying to apartments in a beachside favorite town of ours, Asbury Park. We hope our offseason there will really help our surfing as the waves get bigger, faster, and colder. Also, the music scene there is bumpin'.

Much love to all. Sean

The Mind Athlete

2010-07-21T05:10:00.001-07:00

One could easily admire the decisiveness of an athlete: in mere seconds, their body displays the strong movements of a physical will with confidence and self control.

But the athleticism of the mind is of a rarer breed and even more beautiful when mastered. Imagine the grace of a being whose mind is in complete alignment with their will. Choices would be made without shame, never looking backward. Even greater-- imagine the beauty of one who has mastered the athleticism of both mind and body.

Pot Kettle Black

2010-06-15T14:49:00.000-07:00

Pot Kettle Black by sean marshall

Regret, at 2:30 AM

2010-04-10T23:25:00.000-07:00

I put your photo on my desktop.
You both look so far away,
but maybe you'll feel closer now.

I guess this time alone has been about my distance.
All along, I'd been trying to scale time and space
to feel not where I am.
It does not feel so healthy.

Books and art and things beautiful
to span the gaps,
until I see you both
basking in sunset,
water at your backs,
and singing a tune
and it is then I realize
that the mind cannot trick itself,
at least not for too long.
One's will cannot reverse reality.

It feels at though you are staring at me.
As if to say,
you've lost control, man.
We are here and you are there.
I never thought I'd be so dependent.

Would it not be fair to blame my loved ones?
Nor to make a rash decision-- to be spontaneous?
I would hope it fair,
only to justify my worsening of things.

In the meanwhile, I tell myself
salvation lies within.
But I know that it does not live
where there is no will
to keep it.

Sean j Marshall 2010

I Delve Again

2010-04-04T19:53:00.000-07:00

I delve again, back into school, after a holiday with the family. This is a difficult transition, as I am finding every weekend. I feel tired from 5 consecutive years of school, and thinking, and reading, and thinking. My body longs to be outdoors-- to play, to feel young again; but I must handle the work in front of me. And thats where this poem came in.

Last week, behind on schoolwork and stressed, I decided to skip class, head to a nearby, Rutgers Newark MFA poetry reading. I returned to the library invigorated, fueled by the words of my fellow students and warmed by the sound of rain on the library roof and windows. The result was the following.

Rain on the Roof

I thank the shelter that surrounds this perch,
for so long has my skin been pelted
with word and phrase and thought.
Pores search for breathe.
Twenty-three,
and I have gorged space with more
than capacity may ask
I have inhaled and lives the breath of so many before
that my own stench seems a stranger.

Shan't I use this shelter?
Shan't I take today to create a storm,
my own,
one that reflects the winds within?
That would be apropos, yes.
The ceiling would raise high
the floor sink low
and air could circulate within.
Finally the hawk will find itself
a den, and room to soar
The shelter and its abyss within and out
corpulence
All is free
And finally one may breathe.

Wet Heat Mulching

2010-03-07T20:14:00.000-08:00

Remember when
Mom would tell us
not to work so hard,
to get the job done?
With a pile of dirt in the driveway,
do you think she was lying,
that she might drink
her cup of tea and
curl with a book
sooner?
Do you think she knew
at the time?
All we have
is our work
and each other.
Or, maybe that was
all she knew,
and was looking
indoors instead
to curl, and hide.

Looking elsewhere from you
precisely what I do
I wonder if it is not
you or me
but
you and me.
'Can you dig me out?'
she asked.
I certainly can.
'The snow's too heavy.'

That's precisely
what I'll do.
A fine gesture,
from me to you.
All so I can
hurry inside
and curl
with a book.

The Revival

2010-02-13T09:41:00.001-08:00

At the request of my dear friend Omar, and due to some spare time, I have decided to commence my blog once again. Sorry for the hiatus, but I think some time apart from our hobbies can be helpful. Hopefully now, though, the blog will provide that medium of expression I have lacked for too long, keep friends and family posted on my whereabouts. It is also another great way to practice my writing, storytelling, etc. So here I go...

Things have been happening at a steady pace here. Living with Mom & Dad in Morristown isn't too bad-- I am learning to enjoy the fruits of home: seeing old friends frequently, getting into shape, feeling somewhat settled, etc. Suburban life has it positives as well.

On a very general scale, I feel as I get older, I cling to my interests even more stubbornly or dedicatedly. Things like literature, music, fitness-- these things are all I have, I feel, these days, as coping mechanism from responsibilities. So let us escape...

Attending school at Rutgers has provided me with some curriculum geared towards my more particular interests in school- American studies, and more specifically, that elusive period of time in the early 20th Century we call Modernism. School can be stressful with work, etc., but I'm learning that once I get focused, the demands become less daunting. Its so interesting to me to see how and where we have come to the present-- that which comes before us is hard too shake. The Modernist period tends to that "lost little city boy" side of me-- the one that wanders between tall buildings, looking for answers.

Recently, I layed down some recordings of my own songs, with hopes to make a small album/CD from it all. A good friend helped me out-- but since I am looking to add more instrumentation to my songs, the recording process may take a while.

Currently I am writing you from Julie's house upstate, where she is living with her parents, submitting application to Grad school for Physicaly Therapy. She loves PT, and are both hoping she gets into a good school in the area-- preferably Philadelphia.

So now I intend on keeping up to date with my blog postings-- so check in regularly! Also, if I can recommend keeping up with my 2 best friends, who are currently both living and trekking in New Zealand. babablahblog.blogspot.com. Check it out! One love, keep playing, listening, surfing, writing, or working hard-- at whatever it is you do. - SJM

Snow Day

2009-03-02T06:37:00.000-08:00

A snow day arrives today, Monday. Its beautiful outside my window right now. A nice blend of Bronx and white fog. Birds who came North too early are scrambling for shelter.

Perhaps the most perfect thing. After a weekend of running around, business, this day of resting is quite welcome.

Saturday morning I hit the slopes for the 3rd time this winter season. This time, headed to Hunter Mt. in the Catskills for a Senior Trip with classmates. This was cool because it was less about skiing, more about spending time together with Manhattan College friends. I did plenty of runs with friends on the more difficult slopes (im getting the hang of this skiing thing), then headed down to the bunny slopes to catch Julie picking up the sport pretty quickly. I was able to take her to the top of the mountain by the end of the day for a big run.

That was a start to my day, but it wasnt over yet. The evening would prove hectic, as I had to head right to a gig as soon as I got home. This one was in North Riverdale, which means I was unable to get there by subway. My friend Terry from home called to say he'd be coming. He arrived shortly after I finished, and from there we headed to the bar to meet with Julie and her friends from home. We stayed out late and had some fun at Karaoke night.

The next day Terry and I headed to a restaurant called Dinosaur BBQ in Harlem for lunch. That was a blast. Great southern grub-- ribs and pulled pork with hot sauce, mac and cheese and coleslaw. A real "honky tonk" meal.

I had to be getting home quickly afterwards, as I had lots of work, but the Snow Day slowed things down for me. It was a hectic weekend, Im lookin forward to some time indoors. Back to reading. Currently on The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner. Go pick it up! Love Peace and Chicken Grease- Seany

PS. Artwork: "From the Depths" by Luke Taaffe. Taken from Shakasandsinglefins.blogspot.com
Isn't it cool?

the future.

2009-02-25T06:57:00.000-08:00

Hello all. At work right now, taking in last night's revisit to the open mic night @ An Beal Bocht. It's a strange thing, ya know, playing music. I've noticed, since I began playing shows, that it has changed for me. It's still something I love obviously, something I am constantly searching for, but I noticed it has gone from something small; something young and naive, emotional and person-- kind of like a journal-- to something public, fun, and worth sharing. I guess it was Julie who pointed this out to me, when I had said to her, "I dont write songs like I used to." She responded, "Well maybe it shouldnt be like it used to. Maybe it should just be fun now." And thats precisely what Ive been struggling to come to terms with. I think now that I know that, I'm going to just allow myself to have dome more fun with it. That being said, I have a show this Saturday, 9 pm at Mr. Viggs on Mosholu Ave. in the Bronx. You can find details on Facebook. So if you're around, come out, and let's have some fun.

On my mind a lot lately is the future-- that is, after graduation. There are many things I expect of myself-- grad school, working, staying close to home-- that I am trying to move further and further away from. I realize many stresses are self inflicted. To be honest, most on my mind these days is surfing. I've been following these blogs(check them out!), dying for the time the water gets warmer and I get closer to the beach. So I can relax, refocus, and not have responsibility.

I had a great time time last weekend downtown with some friends from abroad. Two girls that I went to Dublin with were down on the lower east side, so we hopped a train to the Brooklyn Brewery. It was a cool place, but poorly chosen time to arrive. It was packed, a long line for beer, so we just caught the tour, walked around a bit and headed on home. I would have liked to just stop and relax, enjoy a beer. Brooklyn was cool tho. Uber hip and trendy. Looked like a lot of fun.

I found some solace in the words of Thoreau this week, and I'll leave you with those. I could quote all of Walden, but I guess I'll just have to choose one. So long. Love, Sj

"I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life..."

Sick Again??

2009-02-19T19:12:00.000-08:00

Last night I couldn't sleep at all because my tonsils were killing me-- disabling my ability to swallow without any pain. This is exactly the pain I felt last semester right before Mono kicked in, and I was pretty nervous that I might be hit with another serious form of sickness. So, instead of continuing to push myself like last time, I took off classes, put my schoolwork aside and went to the nurse. Julie was nice enough to join me as I wasn't feeling so hot and needed some moral support. The Dr. was in and basically said that because of my mono, I'm more susceptible to bacteria or infection-- and thats precisely what this was.

A few antibiotics later I'm already feeling better and am getting back to schoolwork. Medicine is insane. There's something about being really sick that just messes with my head-- I get grumpy, emotional even, reclusive, slightly depressed because I cant continue about with my daily pleasures.

But overcoming a sickness is the best feeling. As soon as you get better, the world returns to you in full bloom, and you begin to see the brighter side of things. I hope I get over this sickness quickly and that its my last for a while-- that way I can enjoy the bloom of Spring that is coming so quickly. I think that Ground Hog was a little off. Love to all- Seany

Picaresque

2009-02-17T21:47:00.000-08:00

Obsessed.

Picaresque Trailer 2009 from High Seas Films on Vimeo.

- Follow them closer here
- Check out their blog here

Song is called "Teen Angst" by M83. Fits perfectly with the video, I feel.

I cant wait for this to come out. Check out some of the other blogs I'm following too! - Sean

New Blog

2009-02-16T08:11:00.000-08:00

With my latest posting (the arrival of my short story "All Good Things"), I have changed the look of my whole blog and renamed it, "Oh, Play that Thing." The title comes from one of my favorite novels of the same name by contemporary Irish author, Roddy Doyle, and holds significant meaning for me. Hopefully it comes across in my writing and gains some meaning for you as well. Maybe you'll even pick up the book. Stay tuned for more. Love and peace- Sj

All Good Things. a short story by sean marshall

2009-02-16T07:43:00.000-08:00

I don't think smoking is such a bad thing. I do myself a favor just once in a while, by enjoying a cigarette. Shit is hard. Life is hard. And everyone has to find his or her own beauty, and somehow, I have to find my own beauty. But I am careful-- an excess of beauty can be just as mundane as its absence. So cigarettes…they can be a beautiful thing. Maybe they're not your beauty. But they're somebody's. Not in the obnoxiously posh way but in a thoughtful way. To just slow it all down, for a minute. Inhale the mood; exhale the moment. And for an instant, I'll feel all right.

I suppose it's pretty difficult to put feelings to words, or even just understand them in the first place. What am I feeling, and how can I describe this feeling? I can't answer those questions, but maybe smoke, or music, drugs, or something can help us understand…these can help us contemplate. Smoke helped me that evening, when that cigarette rendered my surroundings useless; I let my thoughts consume me. They were my only concern. As I sit and smoke, I take in the light on the street, the time of day, the change of season. With a spark I judge them all good things. This was happiness. My cigarette convinced me it was in some way responsible. Not Joe Camel, but the cigarette for all its ability to capture the beauty…the smoke... the mood.
I've been sitting on the front stoop of my apartment complex, smoking and people watching for quite a while. I'm not really sure how long, to tell you the truth. I was ruminating. At least 3 families went by on their afternoon walks: pushing strollers, walking dogs, with smiles on their faces, happy and distracted.

Had these people found their place, had they found meaning? These cliché questions; they consume me. These chain restaurants, these bibles and these globs of hair gel; they’re all just detractors from questions-- that elephant in the room that few dare to talk about. Did what they were doing with their lives really matter? But then again...do I really matter? I wanted to get to where they were. To that state of happiness, but I refuse to do the way so many do. I refuse to let ignorance suffice.

Three years ago, I moved to Asbury Park with two buddies. It was our first autumn out of school. The summer after college, it was freedom, but freedom came with a burden. No longer were we expected to make asses of ourselves every weekend on the campuses of our respective colleges. No longer were we allowed to procrastinate. No longer could we excuse inner turmoil. We were suddenly the rulers of our own universe, all responsible for our futures. We were at the threshold of destiny. It’s funny how youth so abruptly. It doesn’t fade out; it burns out.
I wonder if the change to Asbury Park came as abruptly. When did it turn into just another town, no different than the home, the suburbia I left to come here?

The 60s and 70s had welcomed Asbury Park’s attractions with enthusiasm. At the time, the boardwalk casino, mini golf courses, night life bars and restaurants were crowded with California dreamin’ hipsters. The promenade paralleled the coastline along the sand, carrying couples to and from the attractions, complementing their romantic hand holding with a beautiful collision between nature and civilization. Behind the ocean staring heads of the boardwalk stood the town of Asbury Park, well lit and upright, welcoming to those wishing to escape the sights of the boardwalk and sounds of the ocean. Over the years though, Asbury dwindled into a dilapidated old town. Minority families replaced hipsters and happy couples. The casino’s copper arches aged into the same blue-green hue of the Statue of Liberty. The wood planks from the boardwalk eroded; wind blown sand scattered the green turf of the mini golf course—paint chipped off its windmills and clown faces. The town became something historic, rustic even.
Corporations saw this dilapidation not as an important history that must be revived, but as a blank slate opportunity to start fresh and turn Asbury into the same profitable town as the rest of the country.

And so Asbury became what they all had become: just another whore-town. The pimps transformed the environment. Condos, Starbucks, and strip malls hid the past and screamed into our ears: "Forget! Forget it all!" These constructions stand for our will to forget. They distract us from the questions we carry inside of us, the questions that frightened us. What had we become?

I have no real answers, which brings me to where I began. I return to my life as abruptly as I put out my cigarette. I return to my confusion. I climb the stairs to the hollow sound of my apartment, to the hollow sounds of my life. My two best friends in the world were gone, off and happy. It was their own choice to leave; they were both in love and that’s great. Maybe I’d get a wedding out of it…some free drinks. Maybe I’d even be best man and make a speech.
I was happy for them. I was. But it hurt, because we made a deal, and now I was alone, with no direction home, and no destination in mind.

-1-
A pound on my door at a most uncomfortable hour made me notice the tags on my pillow. Tommy Hilfiger. I walked across my filthy room to the front door. The stench of my apartment wasn't as bad as most single men’s, but male body odor was distinctly detectable.
I swung the door open with a disposition I would proudly describe as “moderate morning attitude.”

'Rita. What can I do for you at this hour?'

Rita Haywood was my superintendent. And she was old. She was my old superintendent.
I began to recognize her stale stench, like dogs and elephants do. These were signs that I had been here too long. She smelt like a room full of cats. It followed her wherever she went. We all have our own scents, I suppose, but her starving- mad, stray feline perfume stung my nostrils on frequent occasion, and I hated it.

She had this strange look about her, which was somehow so familiar, like something you saw in your favorite childhood sitcom or something. Her deep-set eyes were like caves amidst her wrinkled skin, draped in mascara for those big whites to stare out of. Her nose came to a long but round droop, like it was some sort of claw searching for scents in the deepest of crevices, coming away dirty but proudly knowledgeable. That baby blue plush robe swung low as she shuffled, hiding her wrinkly skin. Her fluffy pink slippers accented her veiny ankles. I don't think she wore underwear.

I knew why she came to see me. My rent was overdue. But there was something more. I had one edge over her. Rita loved me.

'Ronan, you know the rent was due yesterday, so what, honey, seems to be the problem?'
I hid my embarrassment with a smirk that I'm sure flattered her. But I couldn’t escape the recurring realization that my job just wasn’t cutting it.

'Don’t give me any cute shit, Ronan, I want the rent. Today.' She pinched my cheeks.

'Rita, I'm sorry... I have to go to the bank today. You’ll get your money.'

And I didn't have a bank account. That was bullshit. I refused to allow some company to hold my money. It's like they get mad if you want a withdrawal without an ATM fee.

'I’m only bein’ this nice to you because I like your face, Ronan.' Rita kept a firm grip on my forearm, letting me know she was actually serious. 'Don’t get cocky now, just get me the money today, all right?'

'Sure thing, Rita.' I shoveled her frail, smelly corpse out of the apartment. Now all I had to do was get some money. That is, after I rid my place of her scent.

It’s not that I disliked Rita completely; I actually kind of enjoyed her little visits. Like her scent that followed her, she brought a little spunk into every room she entered. She gave me a lot of attention.

It was obvious she was attracted to me, but 70 year olds are not exactly my style. That’s why she gave me so much gripe. She could have woken up any other of the ignorant tenants in this shit-hole apartment, but she woke me up. I’m kind of proud of that, in a terribly vain way. Like I said, stale women weren't my thing, but it just felt good to be admired, even from Rita. Such was the depressing realization that my list of admirers had dwindled to a cat-smelling, 70 year old woman.

I'm pretty sure I'm not ugly or anything. Hell, Rita loved my looks. But I was too proud to let the world know Ronan Smiley was human-- lonely in Asbury. I stood tall, and stood alone. Of course, I didn't really want to be alone. I loved women. I grew up with four sisters and proudly emerged as a first hand witness of menstruation completely scarred. My scar was that I understood women -- at least I took the trouble to attempt an understanding. This was my problem, this was my loneliness. Rule #1- women simply love attention, good or bad. And, let's cut the bullshit, a "period" is just excused, allotted frustration. My frustration came with no cycle, with no excuse.

I headed to work in the morning. The wood beneath my feet felt less and less supportive these days. It wasn’t even wood anymore. Old panes were replaced with new ones. The feeling of fresh synthetic materials beneath the soles of my shoes sent shivers of disapproval up my spine. As I looked over the railing and across the sand, water and foam broke against the shore. The dark ocean appeared frigid powerful and indifferent. On a summer day, the new condos and office buildings across from the water would reflect clearly against the Atlantic, contesting their magnitude to that of the ocean’s. These parts no longer belonged to provincial New Jersey, but imperial America. Corporate America. Shirts and ties usually don’t fit nicely in an old beach town, but they had begun to sting my eyes every morning. Cell phones guided them along the boardwalk to their cubicles, their prisons. The old casino gloomed in the distance; draped in caution tape, trampled by the dinosaurs we call bulldozers. I was searching for the good old Asbury, the one I knew during the summers of high school, and surfing next to the pier with my closest friends, who were now... all grown up.

The walk to work left a sour taste in my mouth, one I hoped the Pony would help me swallow. I’d gotten the job hosting Open Mic, every Thursday night, at The Stone Pony, one of the most renowned music venues in Jersey. I performed one day a week, but every other day of the week I worked the stage-- run cables, sound check, double check, triple... whatever. It was tedious. But it wasn't all that bad, really. Besides, it wasn’t really about the job. Once I arrived there, I knew why I came—for music. The place had history, and character.

The building stood directly across Ocean Ave from the boardwalk. A tiny place, the Pony didn’t hold many people. Dirty white brick walls and dark black tinted windows looked aging, but held securely on the corner of Second and Ocean. A theatre styled display hung outside. Usually, a letter or two were missing from the greeting. But that didn't matter. The bands that played there weren’t even very good anymore. The Pony was a novelty venue that played its role with a great deal of pride. It brought music, and music brought the Pony. It opened in the 60s, struggled and nearly fell among the ruins of Asbury in the town’s dying years, but resurged and now stood proudly among the Starbucks, the shopping malls, and the condos as the only place with a history. The building was an artifact, and what went on inside was a monument. My job didn’t bring home all the rent to Rita, but I didn’t want to let it go, at least for now. History and music were too important to abandon for a shitty apartment, whose rent went up with every new chain store that came into town.

The Pony was owned by a man named James Beardley, an aging penny pincher who knew all too well the value of a dollar. Jimmy's diligence was admirable, but his age and persistence pushed him far into the realm of stingy. Still, the man brought back the Pony amidst a falling town, and I couldn’t condemn that.

Jimmy emigrated from Ireland some 30-odd years ago, in search of the "Dream". He found himself broke on the docks of New York after being robbed in his sleep. The eejit had kept his money in an old sock, right out in the open, while he dreamt of the gold streets that awaited him. The man didn't deserve it, but he lived like he was still in the barracks of that ship every night, replaying his loss and trying to protect his money one more time-- far different from the reality that was his mansion on the waterside.

He perched himself along the Atlantic in a 4 story castle, building himself up as high as he could so the boys back in County Meath could feel the reflection from his freshly shined new car. Boy, if the lads could see Jimmy now.

'Ronan,' he always nodded at me every morning. He would often stare at me. Not in reprimand, but in observance that bred awkward silence, something Jimmy was an expert at.

Jimmy's silence, this and every morning was not planned out. He just thought I, and everyone else for that matter, was trying to rob him in his sleep. He did this mental check every day, and his paranoia shined through.

He would eye his surroundings and myself, trying to recall things as he last saw them. He acted as if this answered the questions in his head, which asked, ‘What is he doing? Is he prepared? How much money am I losing right now?’-- Christ, this man was cheap.

His glare this morning seemed especially impenetrable, however, and his eyes spelt an indistinguishable disappointment. I thought I was about to get fired when he asked me to sit down to speak with him. The man spoke bluntly.

'Ronan,’ he said, ‘The Pony's been sold.'

Close enough. He continued.

'...It's a bit sad, but it's in my best interest. The coffee shop next door wants to expand. They put the offer on the table, and I couldn't refuse. Ronan, finish out the week, and you'll receive your pay by post. I'm sorry.'

My response to him was minimal as usual, but this time for different reasons. Usually, I was too nonchalant to say a word back, but disgust bred my silence that morning.

I finished out my day as Jimmy said and left. I wasn't really that surprised, honestly. To his benefit, Jimmy was aging, getting old for the business. The man served his time, did his duty, and it was time to go. I couldn't help but think, though, that he should have passed it on to one of his sons, or someone. Instead, Starbucks would knock down the stage I worked on; trample the house that built Springsteen, and Bon Jovi.

I cringed. I didn't even like those bands, but I felt for their history.

As I walked away from the Pony that day, I spited the old man for giving in. The cheap bastard dove head first for the penny in the sand. He tried to fly to the sun so everyone back home could see 'em. I hoped his dive left him picking the sand from his teeth every night. As I headed for the beach, I hoped his wings were made of wax that day.

-2-
I didn't have a cell phone, so I was forced to the only remaining pay phone on the boardwalk. I found it rusted and crumbling beside the old casino, begging for someone to make a call. The shrill of my sister's voice had haunted my childhood, more so than either of my parents', and at 25 years old I refused to listen to her yelling at me. Laura lived a life of corporate luxury in Ocean Grove, a town a few miles north of Asbury. I originally called to say hello, but she drove down to Asbury when I explained to her my situation.

I looked at her shoes, her clothes, her make-up. High heels, designer names, eye shadow. She had “succeeded”—made it in the world. Her powder blue work suit matched the gaudiness of her shiny silver car in its parking spot next to the boardwalk. The wind lifted her hair from her shoulders as she yelled. She was beautiful.

‘Okay, stop yelling, Laura, I'm right here.’

She was "disappointed" in my irresponsibility for having lost my job. This was nothing new. I had taken her words of discontentment like floggings since a young age. She was someone who had constructed me, yes, but she was never too shy to bring me down. Maybe I didn't drive a Mercedes and have a six-figure job like she did, but at least I was original.

‘No Ronan. Your 24 years old, living in this shitty town. You don’t even surf anymore. Get a life. And you don’t even call Mom and Dad. They miss you.’

As I looked back over my shoulder walking away from her, a look of disgust formed on her face. I left her there alone on the boardwalk, lit a cigarette, and headed to the beach. I still couldn't believe how long I had searched for a payphone to call her, whom I hadn’t spoken with in weeks, just to have her come yell at me. I smoked it all away.

I wasn’t going to admit to my sister the entirety of my situation-- I’m not sure I was going to admit it to myself. The truth was I had no job, I had no money, and although Rita would have let me come back for a small personal fee, I had no desire to sleep with her. I could have called my friends, but I was too proud to disturb a nice evening with their families. So I went to the place that brought me to Asbury- the same place that kept me there.

That night, I slept on the beach beneath the stars as the light of Asbury nightlife shown in the distance. It was only the beginning of autumn, so the sand was a little cool, yet surprisingly comforting. I wasn’t going back to the apartment, but I didn’t mind. I had the painting of my town to cradle me to sleep. The new strip of bars and nightclubs from the distant promenade silhouetted the damaged old casino, projecting the old Asbury Park right into my very sleepy eyes.

-3-
My night’s sleep on the beach hadn’t been so bad, but my heart jumped at the sound of a voice, indicating morning’s arrival.

‘Are ya dead?’

I shielded the blinding sun from my eyes and spotted the silhouette of a long legged creature hovering over me. She was beautiful, I could tell you that much. Her shape alone mesmerized me. She was long, thin, and warm. What she was doing standing over me, I couldn't quite say.

‘What're ya doin sleepin out on the beach? You don't look homeless.’

‘What's it to you?’ I said so in a stiff manner, a bit cranky.

She wore a wetsuit. I once again noted her beautifully long and thin body. Holding a surfboard. My brain began to piece the situation together.

‘Well, it's 1:30 in the afternoon and you're sleepin on the beach like your after getting a tan. Its 45 degrees outside. It's autumn, buddy-- summer's over.’

‘A guy can't enjoy himself on the beach in November?’

‘Not unless he's in the water on a day like today.’

I followed her pointed finger out to the water and saw the perfect waves. Peelers, 100 yards out. The ocean shone like glass. Bodies seated on boards bobbed up and down like buoys, gawking at those fortunate enough to have caught a wave.

‘I'm Saoirse,’ she interrupted.

‘You're what?’ I didn’t understand her.

‘Sair-sha,’ she explained. I wasn't too sure I understood still, but I think she was trying to tell me her name.

‘What is that? Irish?’

‘Sure it is... Well, stop looking at me weird and tell me your name, silly.’

Oddly, I felt like the strange one, as if I should have heard her name before. I didn't find it too pretty at first, but at least it was original. And it made me curious. I held out my hand.

‘Ronan.’

She took a seat right next to me on the sand. I heard cars driving by. A sky advertisement flew past. I was more worried about Saoirse's blue eyes to really care.

‘Nice, to meet you, Ronan. You paddling out today? The swell season is here, it's perfect out there.’

I hadn't surfed two years, since my arrival to Asbury. Oddly, that was a reason for my moving here, but like most folks do when they get old, I forgot what I loved. I felt like an old man. I had sand in arguably 5 of my bodily orifices. She swept her hair behind her ears to reveal her freckly fare skinned face. Leaning over with curiosity, she shielded the sun with her hand. Talking to this innocently beautiful girl, I searched for some excuse to explain why I didn't surf anymore. I had none.

‘It's a little cold, no? My hands are freezing.’

‘You know what they say? A man with cold hands has a warm heart.’

‘Sure.’ I'd never heard the saying.

‘Well, hey. I've gotta get out before the tide changes. Take care Ronan. I hope to see ya in the water.’

My eyes followed her to the edge of sand, where the earth met the ocean. As Saoirse jumped onto her board and began to paddle, I headed back towards my apartment.

-4-
I snuck back into my room through the fire escape, welcomed by the fuzzy sound of a finished record spinning, waiting to be flipped. I looked at the album—Simon & Garfunkel. I had put the record on before I left for work, and now the record, whose essence of true freedom I became so familiar with in college, was finished. I used to swear the world was at my fingertips.

Half of the time we’re gone, but we don’t know where.

I thought about my meeting with the young girl. Saoirse. That name had a strange sound to it, but the more I thought about it, the more I became intrigued. Irish, she said. I wondered what it meant; I needed to find out.

The destruction around me soon surfaced to attention. I had let my room turn to shit. I had let my life turn to shit. Ninja Turtle bed sheets, book stacks all over the floor, a mattress on the ground with no bedspring. My dirty clothes were scattered around the room: childish clutter waiting for Mom to come clean. I began to suffocate from the encumbering mess around me.
I escaped to the tenant garage, where I found my surfboard hidden, collecting dust behind the jalopy pick-up truck my parents gave me as a college graduation gift. I failed to ever find need for a car living at the beach, so there it sat, for a couple of years. Both were vehicles daring to be ridden, waiting for a soul brave enough to drive.

My wetsuit felt a bit tight as I struggled to zip myself up outside my car just across Ocean Blvd. Looking for an excuse, I found my stomach a little larger than I last remembered, and hid a look of slight disgust from my face. Above, a flock of birds, V formation, flapped away, chirping as they followed the coastline. I marked their route. South. Autumn was drawing itself closer to winter.

A voice broke my thoughts.

‘You decided to come back, I see. This time properly outfitted?’

I looked up to find Saoirse returning from the beach, wet, surfboard still in hand.

‘My suit barely fits anymore.’ I shook my head in embarrassment, but looked to change the subject. ‘How was it out there, Saoirse?’

Again, with her hand shielding her big blues, she spoke. This time, quite succinctly. She replied only,

‘Liberating,’ and walked slowly away from me, board under her arm, birds still visible on the distance overhead.

‘Saoirse!You never told me what your name means.’

She laughed at me a little and replied,
‘Don’t worry about it. Just go surf.’

Still curious, I obeyed and continued to the Atlantic. As I stepped in, I welcomed the cold as it woke me up and pumped my blood. With just one step into the water, I felt the old Asbury coming back to life. I paddled my little heart out, and for the first time in years, caught a wave. After that, each wave taken was a step backwards into the heart of childhood, high school, college. Walking back to shore after my session, I saw only the Asbury I loved. It had transformed. I looked up to the boardwalk and found the sun outshone the lights of attractions, couples laughed over the cell phone conversations of businessmen. How had I failed to see all these good things for so long? Perhaps the town hadn’t changed entirely. Perhaps, I had changed; lost sight of the world I loved, and fell all too comfortably into disgust… with the condos, the strip malls, the advertisements. I felt glad to finally see, once again, my Asbury Park.

As I returned to my car, I found a small piece of paper fastened beneath the windshield wiper on my dashboard. I feared it to be another parking ticket—I had a history of collecting them—but found only a note. Handwritten, the paper read, “Freedom.” I know who left me this note. I finally know what the name means.

I packed all my things that morning. Rita would be looking for me later on. I was going to leave. I was going to run-- not away from Asbury, but into the arms of something new. Questions still needed to be embraced. Like all good things, my time in Asbury had come to an end.

Cigarette's could be seen tossed from the window of my Ford pickup truck as I hit the Garden State Parkway that afternoon. I was going to miss it all, but the thought of new questions excited me. Some things, I realized, must be left behind. Plenty more things, though, never die. Not if you want them to live. As I turned up the radio, I repeated to myself, ‘Saoirse. Saoirse.’

And like a bird, Ronan Smiley headed south for winter.

Another Day, Another Dollar.

2009-02-04T06:54:00.000-08:00

Hear Ye, Hear Ye. It has been ages since I've posted a blog. I had to ask myself why such a lenght of time has transpired since my last creative output, and I think the solution lies in a simple answer: I didnt want to.

That's right, I didnt want to write to yall. My creative outputs have lied in other forms and places these days. As some of you may know, My tenure at An Beal Bocht Open Mic came to a close in the beginning of December. I did the job for a year, and although it was a fun and easy job(also helpful with stagefright), I decided that, just like all good things, it must come to an end. It lasted a year and only leaves me with happy memories.

He-hem. My reference to the saying "all good things must end" leads me to bring up my next act of most dinstinction-- writing. Since my time in Ireland, I have been writing, editing, and preparing to release a fictional short story entitled, "All Good Things." I have posted a rough copy of the story online here. Let me know if that link does not work-- It's a little sketchy sometimes. That site is temporary; I'm trying to find a more secure location for the story online. Any feedback would be appreciated.

It was a busy winter for me and the family. As I recovered from my stint with mononucleosis, I became more physically active-- a blessing I realized I had truly taken for granted before I got sick. A plentiful helping of skiing with the family, as well as a ton of little brother Chris's basketball games was a delight. Those are things I miss about home the most.

Before that I spent some time in the Dominican Republic with Manhattan College friends for 8 days. That was a treat after a rigorous semester, but to be honest, home was where I wanted to be. On my radar now are Grad school applications and finishing my last semester at Manhattan on a good note. I'm just gonna take it one day at a time. Another day, another dollar. Love to all, miss you guys. Dont be afraid to call! - Seany

Back To School; Woe is Me.

2008-09-07T14:45:00.000-07:00

The school year started on Monday, Aug 25, and brought a whole new plethora of busyness to the table. Ive realized actually how many responsibilities an adult actually accumulates as they get older, and I'm beginning to feel the resulting anxiety from it all. Nonetheless, I'm remaining as positive as I can under the weight of my woes.

First off, I'd forgotten the degree of difficulty required of my English Major. Along with a music class and a philosophy class, I find myself with a lot of schoolwork still to be done on my table. It's hard to have to think about the future and present with equal consideration. The "fight vs. flight" syndrome is kicking in, even as I write this. I have a lot of work to do and I'm feeling quite anxious from it all. Rather than continue my list of To-Do's I figured I'd sit down and vent a little to relieve my worries.

Aside from classwork, I also have a new job on campus working for the MC Campus Events staff. Luckily my boss has a good enough sense of humor so that I do not feel so stressed on the job; however, its time consumption leaves me struggling to piece out the rest of my day. I've also got to train for the half marathon I plan to run with the family in Philadelphia on the 21st of September. I'm gonna work hard to keep in shape but come race time I will only be able to pray that I do alright. It's all up to me until that moment. As is the case with all my upcoming responsibilities.

Girlfriend Julie and I are having such a great time together, seeing each other as much as we would have liked to over summer. I've included a photo of us above. I give her a lot of my time and take a lot of hers- and sometimes that takes away from other things, but that's the beauty of a relationship: I'd rather take the weight of responsibility than not be able to see her as much. Specifically we like to hit the downtown area together, and we also do some running. I actually keep up with her. Just last weekend we did a 60 minute run in central park on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Labor Day I woke up early to venture out to Rockaway Beach via subway for a day of surfing. The trip was long for subway- 2 hours- but I was greeted by some great great waves and a big Labor Day crowd. Despite the amount of surfers in the water I was proud to be able to catch a ton of good waves. My new board came in handy and rides great. It's such a luxury to have. You should have seen the looks I got on the Bronx subway line. A local Riverdale resident even stopped to ask me questions about the big thing I was carrying and what I planned on doing with it. I think I surfed really well. And coming away with no sunburn is always a plus.

Julie, work, school, and that day trip could each have been a post in themselves, but I'll save the specifics for time's sake.

Cause I've got work to do. Love Yall- Sean

Letting Go

2008-08-22T13:38:00.000-07:00

After a summer of running around within the tristate area, I was finally able to step away for 7 days- first to the shores of Long Beach Island(LBI), NJ, followed immediately by a trip to Outer Banks(OBX), NC. To say that I "stepped away" is a more geographically correct saying than metaphorically. Despite having the label of "vacation," my time away was as active as ever, and my displacement was an important lesson in occasionally letting go of our oh-so-frequently cluttered lives.

First a few days with family were in order. The photo taken above shows the whole family together for our annual vacation. The one below represents 4/5 of the Marshall boys. It's so hard with such a large group to stay on board with everyone's lives. The size of my nephews and status of my older siblings were perhaps the most startling. Nephew Copeland was larger than ever and sister Lizzy recently moved to Iowa City, just for a few examples. I was able to spend time with my younger, but larger brother Christopher, as well as go Bay Fishing with Dad and the 5 nephews. I caught a King Fish and enjoyed his fine meat that evening, courtesy of Dad's cooking.

A Roadtrip with friends came after the family trip, this time heading south of the Mason Dixon to OBX North Carolina. This trip served a couple functions. Firstly, I was able to have fun with friends during the car ride down. Second, I was able to reunite with my long lost best friend Nathan, who I had not seen since his move to OBX in the beginning of summer. Lastly, I returned from my sabbatical in the world of surfing and resumed the hobby after a year long hiatus. The drive down was long and fun, my rekindling with Nathan was a long awaited joy, and my return to surfing was exhilarating and progressive. I made strides of improvement with my ability to ride the wave and even shelled out a pretty penny to buy a brand new board. It rides beautifully and looks the part too. The whole spectrum of the trip was based upon taking me away from what I became used to over summer: yet another fine lesson in the beauties of letting go.

North Carolina's OBX island possesses a wild, untamed beauty, but with the comfort of nationwide- even worldwide- vacationers. License plates from the midwest decorate the island, and Nate's roommate is an oceanographer who was born and raised in Russia. I spent 4-5-6 or more hours of the day surfing, and returned to the house with friends, exhaustingly happy. It was incredible.

LBI is close and so comfortable. It's what I'm used to, but not without the company of family. Both locations took me away and brought me back to the city, ready for my last year of college education with a new energy. I know I speak for family and friends to say that both trips were wonderful. Love. -Sean

WARNING: THIS POST IS REALLY LONG

2008-07-20T08:06:00.000-07:00

The busy, work- loaded month of June preceded what would become an even busier month of July- filled with reunions, friends, family, music, and of course, love.

I feel like I've just finished a mad banshee of events thrown into 2 weeks time: a healthy mix of had-to-be-there's and spontaneous surprises kept me moving. And isn't that just what I love? To keep moving...

I guess the mad month of July started with Independence Day on the 4th, an event that turned into the best of reunions. All my high school friends, minus the important role of my closest of friends Nate Maier, met at a house on Long Beach Island (LBI, for the laypersons). Despite Nate's absence, there was plenty of love going around as many brought their parents and siblings. I myself brought little brother Topher, who joined us for a little before he split to find his own company of friends on the island. The fireworks on the bay were beautiful, the company was as familiar as ever, and I talked to Nate- he had a great time of his own. So no love lost.

Before and after the 4th I was able to see the long lost Hupcey family in New Jersey, who thwarted the Marshall's with multiple events in just a short span of time. I got to see Godfather Joe wearing a sailor's cap, as well as chit chat with some friendly British in-laws. Definitely memorable.

My recently titled girlfriend, Julie Carr came just a few days later on the 9th to visit. Julie's spending the summer at her home in Albany- about 2 hours North of the lovely Riverdale where I reside, so our time together has been limited. Nonetheless, she was able to come down for 4 days and 3 nights, which felt like an eternity against the length of time we've spent apart. Julie & I hit the trails with our running shoes, watched a Gaelic Football match, dove into the city to find new neighborhoods and restaurants, and visited with friends together. As a member of the cross country team here, she's hard to keep up with. Except on the streets of downtown Manhattan, where I'd find myself dragging her across to ensure our safety. I suppose I'm protective. Her visit was long overdue and possibly the last I'll see her until the beginning of the fall semester, so it was an important visit. We had a ball.

Just after Julie's visit, I headed to Philadelphia by bus to sister Laura's new apartment as well as to see my Irish friends who are staying there for the summer. This reunion turned into a surprise when Paddy(you guessed it- my Irish friend) brought me along to a job working a lacrosse camp in South Jersey with professional lax player John Christmas. This was really neat for me- I've followed Christmas's career thru college into the pro game and sort of admired him all the while. It was even neater when he picked us up in his car and bought me breakfast- only to drive me home and write me a check after a day of teaching lacrosse to little kids. He was a really nice guy, humble, and good to talk to- both for smalltalk and conversation.

This cool surprise didn't overshadow my time with Laura tho, because she babied me enough to make me drool. We walked and ran the city, having meals out at restaurants inbetween. I'm so spoiled.

On the 17th I headed back to Jersey to attend the wedding of friend Jason's older sister Jenny. I had just seen Jay on the 4th with all the other HS buddies, so it was a treat to be able to see him so frequently. Jay's family, Jenny and husband J.P. were great hosts and kept the wedding so original. Cowboy hat wearing groomsmen, a bluegrass band, and horse a carriage brought the Bride to the alter. It was such a rich wedding with so much personality, it was hard not to enjoy oneself.

Almost done...

I ended these 2 weeks of insanely significant events with my own performance at the local Pub last night. I played for 3 hours to great friends and family who were so supportive for coming out. Surprise visits included: sisters Laura and Maureen as well as my study abroad friend and companion Omar, who came all the way from VA. I think everyone had a great time- and my accompaniment(a fiddle and a drum) made me sound tolerable enough to satisfy the crowd. I had some gear trouble with a few strings breaking, but these were tended to without delay and the rocking continued into the night.

It's been a great month thusfar and I have so many friends and family to thank for it. I'll be in Riverdale for a while now, I suppose, just trying to recover from the calamity.

But I can't sit still for too long.

Love. Peace. -Seanie

A Life Unexamined: Case Study

2008-07-02T08:11:00.000-07:00

I have spent the first six weeks of my summer vacation- that would be my time to engage in the autonomous future we all dream of- almost completely without thought of philosophy. From a near sighted retrospect, my existence felt substantial, not in size but in texture alone- and for feeling as I exist in such a state- petty and inconsequential. I read novels throughout the time, recreating my educational atmosphere simply without the addition of philosophical literature and thought- and I enjoyed my readings, yes, but without the accompaniment of such deep thought, the characters seemed figurines, play toys and soulless imagined bodies. If I recall to my previous state of frequently philosophically aided analysis of literature, my memories of characters and occurrences that could have only been materialized by my brain seem intimate and more complex, as a result of my enhanced understanding of such. The capability of my mind to superimpose myself into the character’s shoes was generated and made possible by philosophical inquiry. The world existed in complicated forms, like the Matrix or something, spreading itself out into code- and I was Neo, extracting forms and concepts from mere gibberish. But my moments of discontent came not with the despair of inconsequence but rather a woeful realization of the world’s complexity- a woe of understanding.

But just 3 axioms into my first philosophical reading and I feel the world expanding, and rather than myself staying put at the same size and therefore smaller, I feel myself expanding as well. This study, in its earliest of stages, made me grow, and it made the world grow, as if my brain had magnified my senses and from that comes a bliss and excitement, a drug like euphoria that is natural and in no manner recreated or contested. Where could this practice take me in its most developed stages?

What I find so interesting is that this domino effect erection of inquisitiveness happens to mirror the exact question at hand in my first selected work- the exact question Nietzsche poses- from where does the will to truth come?

“The problem of the value of truth stepped before us—or was it we who before this problem?”

He notes the ambiguous nature of question-asking or interrogation. Personally, I have seen these questions of truth posed before me in one way or another as a youth, when the will of my brain outmatched its capability, like a young “Rudy” trying out for a team I physically had no capability of making. Now that we are older and can “make the team,” it is our own choice as to whether or not we return to the questions of our youth and try out. We must take a step—a hard one, at that—to stand before the questions to fulfill and combine the will of youth with the experience and wisdom of old age. To become transient- to see the world from old eyes yet feel them from young ones. To be able to look through the cover of a book to see the inside pages, and have the previously untranslatable code unfold itself in front of your eyes and see the matrix in its forms and complexity. To see the truths which at one time hid but now jump out at you with arms outstretched.
This spawning of intellectual curiosity thus brings me back into a world once forgotten. Into a world where all was illuminated, from the light of my own eyes. When I could see myself as a “sun,” rising before the earth and spreading my light across the terrain until, that is, the day I set. And it will be a most beautiful dusk. -Sean Marshall

Break Ya' Neck

2008-04-20T16:32:00.000-07:00

It's been a while, and although I haven't been writing blogs, I've been writing for myself, both literally and figuratively. That is, I've been writing the pages to my oh so recently delegated series of blank pages that become, for certain, the novel entitled "my life."

For the past few weeks I've kept myself pretty damn active, with yes, some time allotted for reflection. But not too much. Also, my room is a mess. that's just circumstantial though.

Most recently-TODAY, that is, I concluded what felt like a straight month of blurry memories with a hike to Breakneck Ridge, NY. Although the name doesn't suggest its appeal, it was actually amazing- just one of the many student activities I've taken advantage of recently. For a $1 purchase, this hike was difficult, rewarding, exciting, scary, and tiring. kind of like life. All the worthwhile.

Friday was the Annual Jasper Golf Outing. I missed class to go. That's quite alright though- I spent hours with my closest friends, sometimes competitively but most the while not. The last hole became actually quite the tale. Down 2 strokes, Phil(my partner) and myself took to the 18th hole with some aggression. Phil found himself 20 feet from the cup looking at Birdie- and he sunk it. Better yet, it looked like our opposition would hit Bogie for the tie with their distant putt, but somehow the Massachusetts natives that became our enemies put the putt away and held on for a 1 stroke victory. The loss would have been devastating had I not had such a great day.

I've been downtown a bit more as well, mostly to see Matty or collect vinyl- my newest addiction. A concert on W 56th and a trip to Soho took me to some new territories of the city. Soho and the art exhibits we saw were great. Good company as well, Jaime and John Murphy joined us for the Soho trip- younger Topher for the concert on the west side.

I've provide a link to my newest creative outlet, The Praxis Journal, a student-run independent Philosophy Journal, catering to the question college kids ask that nobody can answer. I'm not sure if you can get the link to my articles on there, so let me know personally if you're interested. Also if you are interested, I've just finished Kenzaburo Oe's A Personal Matter and am currently amidst Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jon Safran Foer. I recommend them both highly.

Love to all. I'm sorry I haven't called all of you as I want to, but expect a call soon. If not, call me. Keep SEARCHING!! - Seanie

Weekend Trip!

2008-02-28T15:45:00.000-08:00

Hello readers. family. strangers??...

Apparently last week's post was spotted by a former Jasper. Not that internet/people hunting isn't characteristic of a Manhattan Alumni. All of us Marshall's dont have to try hard to picture Dad doing just that. (Bill Marshall '67 for all the odd ones) He quotes me and put a link to my post up on jasperjottings-daily.com. But hey, that's cool. I like exposure.

Kind of like the exposure I've been getting @ An Beal Bocht every Tuesday night. The Open Mic job is going really well, I enjoy hosting. I basically get paid to play and listen to music, as well as drink free beer which is a welcome relief after 6 hours of class on Tuesday. Twas a bit odd, though, when my Literature teacher walked in to get a drink while I was playing. Also the owner and manager were there to make sure I wasn't a bum with a guitar. A little pressure never killed anyone, though. Overall its a great creative outlet I can look forward too every week.

Tomorrow, Friday, I head down to Baltimore to get away and see a friend- a Flaherty to be exact- almost exact. Well, technically my bus gets into DC, which is easier for Bryan to get to with his car. So he's gonna pick me up there. If he's late I intent to just show up at Mike and Misty's door unannounced. From there I'll go stay a night with him at College Park, UMD, and then head to see some lacrosse games in Baltimore in the morning.

I'll return to NYC that night, though- I'm quite busy with schoolwork/papers/reading. These things are better than they are worse. Tonight I gotta go play a B-Ball game in Draddy. Excited to see all the fam skiing over Easter! much love - seanie

Normalcy...kind of

2008-02-17T20:31:00.000-08:00

Someone once told me, er... "Someone once told me, YOUTH is wasted on the young." This prophet happens to be my former lacrosse coach. Funny he should have said that, because I used that very philosophy as a reason to officially leave the Manhattan College lacrosse team this year.

Not a very easy decision on my part, but it needed to be done. It's something I've had to justify to myself and everyone I know and have come to know over and over again, but no longer will I explain- my decision stands alone, as it is. Just as I need to write these blogs every once in a while, I live and reflect not so that other shall watch and listen, but so that I can hear the sound of my own voice and let the decisions of my life resonate to their full effect.

I've been back at Manhattan for nearly 4 weeks now- an amazing statistic even I have trouble coming to terms with. I am living with James "Max"-well Milne, fellow abroad student extraordinaire. We've lit candles, talked philosophy, been dominated by local Czech Americans in pick up basketball, and seen the city- so much, all together.

I'm embracing this newfound freedom not with a list of priorities but with an adventurous whim of spontaneity. And why not? Like I've said, "youth is wasted". With that being said I could list a whole slew of things I've done, but lets not do that routine. Instead, I'm gonna let my audience hear of some significant experiences and their effects.

In response to one of my new roommates' invitation, I began playing open mic at the Irish pub next door called "An Beal Bacht"- translating to "The Poor Mouth" in Irish. This Tuesday night activity became routine, and I played long sets to some gracious pub dwellers, receiving tips for my playing. After three weeks and some large crowds drawn in(WOOHOO!!), I received a job offer from the pub owners to host the weekly Open Mic- $25 + Tips and Free Drinks. I couldn't ask for a better situation, and I'm sure those that know me well enough know without explanation as to why I love this routine so much.

Within the school, I've joined Manhattan's independent philosophy journal, Praxis. It's a biweekly publication, done by philosophically interested students, majors/minors/or not, without aid from the school. It's a great thing to get involved with and I'm proud of its independence- it shows belief and action in something important, beyond our everyday routines. American Philosopher Charles Peirce said, "Our beliefs guide our desires and shape our actions." Ghandi will also apply- "Action expresses priorities."

Classes are actually great; my 2 English classes and 2 Philosophy classes certainly more than quench my cravings for both subjects, but I'm not sure my History of Jazz class satisfies my musical needs. I know this because I've been looking for my Jazz fix outside of class, heading downtown to a Jazz club and listening to the music on a daily basis.

Things are great, and the effects of such an amazing experience abroad are beginning to sink in and find their place in my everyday life. Continuing my writing was not so much a matter of choice as necessity; I think this activity is as much cathartic as it is fun. To my family- I am so excited to take in yet another new experience on Spring Break in Vermont. Let's hope I don't pull a Sonny Bono. I love and miss you all- sjm

Hello Mr. Magpie. How's your wife?

2007-12-15T03:55:00.000-08:00

It's December, and I'm staring at a Magpie outside my window.
It's been nearly 3 weeks since my last post, mainly due to things coming to a close here at UCD. I've had 3 final papers, and 1 out of 2 final exams so far, my last one being on Wednesday. It's a bit strange going into the final week here, and as you may have guess somewhat bittersweet. I'm excited to get home, but in the same breath I love Dublin and the people here, the people I have met and have come to know.
The Magpies refuse to leave my sight.
Although things have been slower, my weeks have failed to be without content. A trip to a local horse fair with Hazel- she owns/rides/loves horses, as well as a trip to the national museum and the national gallery kept the input at a high level. Not having classes is nice, I have time to do other things and spend time the way I'd like to.
Hosting Sara Harris and a Manhattan Jasper friend of hers allowed me to see some more of the city, as well as a nice face from home. I left alone for one day and finished a final paper instead, allowing them to wander into the city on their own. The following day I visited Kilmainham Gaol, the old jail of Dublin, for a small student fee. Omar was nice enough to accompany me as we took the girls out for drinks that night. They were quite grateful for me letting them stay. It was nice to see a Viking and Jasper in the same visit.
I have received an onslaught of emails lately(overreaction), mostly coming from Annie and Dad, about my arrival. 6 Days from today, and my feet will be on New Jersey soil. I'm quite excited to arrive to a decorated house and hopefully a snowy winter in NJ.
Omar, Scott, and I are hosting a party on Wednesday night, you're all invited. We're trying to get all the great people we've met under one roof one last time. It should be a great time. Then, early friday morning, IM OUTTA HERE.
Currently, Scott's dancing around in my blanket to Van Morrison's "Moondance" while Omar sips tea. This is what I've come to know, what I've come to love. I will see you all on new ground. I love you- Seanie

I Climaxed! I mean...

2007-11-28T10:35:00.001-08:00

Words could not do justice for the great experience that was last weekend, but I'm going to try, for lack of pictures(I'm still waiting on Nate to send them). My finely feathered friend arrived on Friday morning, looking fresh and excited, as if he didn't sleep just 3 hours on Thanksgiving evening. He left tired and weary on Tuesday morning. 4 days of pure adventure wore us both down, but our fatigue was one of satisfaction. With an extreme amount of help from an Irish female friend named Hazel Watson, Nathan and I traveled the country in search of adventure.
Now, originally Hazel and I planned to abduct Nathan from the airport and immediately take him to climb Croagh Patrick mountain, County Mayo- on the westcoast- but this wasn't logistically possibly with train times and whatnot. So, pushing our Manifest Destiny aside, we settled with an immediate trip to Howth Head, Dublin- straight from the airport. We walked around the cliffs overlooking the Irish Sea and walked out over the pier. Howth head was a great place to commence my reunion with Nathan, and it was a beautiful day, but it was mere childsplay in comparison to the traveling that awaited us.
Friday night, the three of us headed by train to Galway City, where we found a hostel for the evening. Hazel's father met us at a local pub that night for drinks- fortunately on his tab- a nice way to lessen the financial blow of this trip. It did not, however, lessen the blow my eardrums took from the pub's musician playing that night. The next day, after Nate and Hazel both experienced some financial problems(somehow I would consistently remain the most financially secure throughout the trip), Mr. Watson, or Brian as he preferred being called, gave us the insider's tour of County Galway in his car. We visited Yeats' house, a disappearing river(which ran into a cave), and old stone monastery, cemetery, and round tower, and a trip to Coole Park. The whole thing took about 3-4 hours, so there's quite a bit of detail. A significant moment was at Coole Park when we saw the autograph tree, where Jack Yeats- the artist-, WB Yeats, Oscar Wilde, Sean O'Casey, and every Irish literary figure under the sun(except Joyce) had carved their names. I found it funny that in this park they had deer in a closed off section like prized wildlife, as if they weren't so overly abundant at home. To be honest, the disappearing river was my favorite sight seen that day. It was such a random place, this creek, that only a local could have known about. We hopped and ducked fences to get there, and of course- that made it all the better.
That Saturday evenin', the three of us had our fair share of Galway and got on to Westport, Mayo, for the big finale- summiting Croagh Patrick. Obviously, we would climb in the morning, so we had to take on finding a place to stay that evening first. A surprisingly difficult task it was, considering it's no longer tourism season in Ireland, so most placed were closed for winter. After 2 hours or so walking around the beautiful town looking for accomodation, we found a B&B headed by an extremely sweet woman who took us in for a relatively cheap sum. We were fed a hefty and delicious meal before we started towards the mountain, thumbs up and out. That's right, we hitchhiked...well, kind of. The first car that stopped for us was a taxi, offering a cheap ride to the mountain 7 miles away. So, we took it.
This mountain was nothing modest. 2500 feet of steep unstable climbing took place, no joke. It overlooked the bay of Westport, so we found ourselves stopping for the view more than for rest. Nate was in heaven, excited as each new rock he found, attempting to dissect the geological history of the mountain. As we ascended further into thin air, rest was much more necessary, though, and we had to concentrate on our climbing rather than geology. We passed a pilgrim unable to ascend further, a humbling encounter, but continued all the way to the church at the summit. Literally, there's a church up there. It was constructed by 12 men and some donkeys, apparently, and mass is held there a couple times a year. Mom, for yourself, this climb would truly be the steepest test of faith. I'm sure in this case you'd have no problem letting the cock crow all three times. The view was glorious, though, and it was such a satisfying ascent with my closest friend from home and my newe friend from my newest of homes. Pictures will follow, I promise.
After a battle against gravity while descending, we made haste to the local pub for a well deserved pint and some grub. A strange encounter with a counselor from Camp Killary topped off the day, and we hitched on back to the train station and back to Dublin.
I let Nate tour Dublin the next day to his own discretion, because I had a serious paper due that afternoon. I saw him off properly the next morning and all was well. It was so good to see my best buddy and do such great things with him. Hazel was great organizing everything and stickin by Nathan and myself. It was as close to perfect as it gets, honestly. God, I love Ireland. - Seanie

FREE RICE!

2007-11-19T12:09:00.001-08:00

Check this out. I'm sure its a great way to get Mike fired. Another benefit is a better vocabulary, and oh yeah, feeding hungry people.

FREE RICE

Home Life

2007-11-19T11:24:00.001-08:00

I know Dublin's not "home" home, but it is for me right now since Jersey's an Ocean away. So since I've been a bit of a nomad for the past few months, it was great to finally just stay "home" for a weekend to get myself prioritized, what with final exams/papers(already!) on my hands for the next few weeks. I was not alone for the first part, however, as the famous James Maxwell Milne, aka Max from MC, arrived on Wednesday evening.
I realized there were many things I wanted to show Max that I myself had not seen yet in Dublin, so I turned out much less of a tour guide and much more of tour accompaniment. Dublin's all about its literature(that is, besides its Guinness), so that was the theme of Friday's trip on the town. It began at about 1 pm when we headed to St. Stephen's Green for some aesthetic fulfillment before heading on to the Yeats Exhibit at the National Library. If you have read all my blogs this might sound familiar, as I did go about 5 weeks ago, but there was plenty of material that I still saw much more. To be honest, u can never learn enough about Ireland's mysterious literary idols with all the info they have on 'em here. Ireland loves its writers. If you don't believe me then you should go to the Writer's Museum, where we went directly after the library. The museum was intimidatingly dense, and we couldn't finish the tour in time before its closing at 5pm, but we got enough info, especially on the Abbey Theatre. That was great because our next stop was a trip to the Abbey to see "Playboy of the Western World". Originally written by JM Synge, this play caused riots when it premiered 'cause it had an immoral protagonist who had "supposedly" killed his father. Yeats actually got up on stage in front of the rioting crowd and did this boisterous speech that I've read plenty about. Pretty cool. The new version of the play was done by a personal favorite contemporary, Roddy Doyle, Dublin born and bred. The major change is that the protagonist is now a fleeing Nigerian son of a wealthy landowner, so racism themes were dabbled throughout. It was absolutely hilarious and very well done. The BEST, tho, was when Max's cell phone went off during a drunken soliloquy, and the actor stopped and said, in character, "...then my Feckin' phone went off!". It was a hilarious adlib and an innocent integration into the play. Great seats, too- 6th row, front n center.
Max departed Sat morning, and I continued just after seeing him off to St. Stephens to read, then came home, did work, cleaned, exercised, and like i said, just got situated with myself...finally.
Sat night I went out on the town with Kevin from the Killary trip. Sun night I saw my FIRST American Football game at this place called The Woolshed, self proclaimed "Sports BAAA and Grill". You bet I was watching the Giants, too. It was great to see a somewhat fearless Eli at the line. the game wasn't great, but where it lacked in offense the interceptions on D provided excitement. The commentators here are AWFUL tho. Its kinda funny actually.

Alright, that's it for me. Nate comes Fri morning so Ive gotta get this final paper done by then so we can have time to roam. Maybe West Coast bound this weekend?? By the way, the Photo above is an action shot from Killary Adventure Weekend. I'm in yellow. I didn't have any from this weekend so that'll have to do. - Seanie

So Finally...Rome.

2007-11-14T04:21:00.000-08:00

As I am sure you all have heard, the most anticipated trip of my hiatus abroad came this past weekend when I met Catie, Annie, and Laura in Rome on Saturday. No doubt that you all have heard plenty about the weekend with all the emails and whatnot that were circulating, but I thought I'd put my own touch on things for everyone.
First of all, things are not always as they seem. This would prove to be a consistent theme throughout the trip. For instance: Catie's pictures went up this morning I believe(they look great), showing my first encounter with the girls on a perky Saturday afternoon- however, do not be fooled- this is merely a DECEPTION! My trip actually began a not so glamorous 8 hours or so beforehand when I called at cab at 4 am, Dublin time. None of the buses in my well slept city run very early, so I had to use the more expensive form of travel to catch my 7 am flight. I would be more than reimbursed, though, when I got to Rome. It felt as though I arrived to find my three sisters swimming in a large bed of food, (American)sweets, drink, and money amidst the ruins of this fine Italian city. Quite luxurious, and even more appealing for a poor college student living abroad. Let us continue...

So after we all kissed, hugged, and all that jazz, we sat down directly across from the Coliseum for my first Italian meal. Aside from my somewhat masochistic encounter with a medal rod(once again, things are not always as they seem), this meal was relatively conflict free and would prove to be the most successful until the following evening. I had the lasagna, which was delightful. I'd tell you what everyone else ate, but I have no idea because I either a) was suffering from a small concussion or b) was so involved in my own meal, I didn't care to look at anyone else's plate. Actually I do remember Catie had just half of a Chicken Burger, because, well... I ate the other half.

We would walk off the burden of calories through the center of the Forum and other ancient Roman ruins. This was my favorite part of the trip, actually. The archaeological feel of the place was very appealing, plus Annie had pleeenty of background material for this part of the trip. I think she could now write a book with all the research that girl did.
This day would prove very tiring. We walked all over Rome to see the Pantheon and have some nice gilato- I had the Bailey's flavored-, as well as latte's for Catie and myself. Laura pissed off a sunglasses vendor by knocking over his only means of income, and water was thrown at us(or in our general direction?) while we were posing for pictures behind an arc of the Pantheon.
Dinner at the acclaimed "ultimo restaurante" was disappointing for the girls. I enjoyed my Pork Chops while they picked at their meals with faces of dissatisfaction. HOWEVER! the restaurant is not to be blamed for everyone's bad meal, as Annie decided to order a delicassy without knowing what it was she actually ordered. I will not be specific as to what this mystery meat was- let's just say that Maisey confirmed it was in fact from an animal, and that this particular part of the animal is often essential to the digestion of its food. Things indeed are not always as they seem.
Moving right along...

We capped off this tiring and stomach churning evening by taking advantage of the free champagne offered to us by the hotel, overlooking the Coliseum. The accommodation was consistently beautiful throughout the whole trip, and there seemed to be a great view wherever one looked.
Sunday was a two legged tour, the morning consisted of our annual meeting with the Pope...wait a minute. We saw the freagin pope? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, and more directly Mother, we witnessed the pope saying mass. We also witnessed witnesses of such an event smoking cigarettes during the "performance", if you will. My theme may apply here as well. Stairs, stairs, and more stairs were then climbed to the summit of what seemed like Mt. Everest but was in fact just the Copula. Beautiful view once again. Mom would not have loved the former and hated the latter.

That night we found a supposedly "new" restaurant, which I guess in Italian just means really trendy. The food was great though and a bond was formed with our waitress. Catie shamelessly asked for the most "American" salad they served, and we giggled on drink and spirits. Yummy. To top off the night was a confusing maneuvering home. The next morning I awoke to a packed bag and tons of food. I departed sadly from the girls that morning, with somehow more money than I arrived with. The selfish givers of an all expense paid trip to Rome apparently continued onto the Sistine chapel, as I routinely trekked backed to Dublin and arrived in my room at 4 pm. I couldn't thank Catie Annie and Laura enough and it was great to hear from all at home. I hope the Giants won, I haven't checked yet. I'm very busy!. I love you all. Hope you are enjoying everything. I personally am looking forward to not traveling for the next few weeks. - seanie

amsterDAMN

2007-11-06T02:59:00.000-08:00

Hello All! I returned home last night from my weekend trip to Amsterdam, which started on Friday, so it was quite a long weekend. There were a few of us headed towards the Netherlands, 5 total, so I had some company. We actually flew into Eindhoven- not Amsterdam- and caught a bus to center city. All worth it for the cheap tickets and the great time we all had.

When we arrived we were greeted by Max Milne- a Manhattan friend of mine, with whom I originally decided to go abroad with to London. We obviously both reconsidered our locations, and its a consensus that the change was for the better, because he loves Amsterdam, and rightfully so. I stayed with my friend from home for the trip while the others stayed in a hostel. It was good to see a familiar face.

Let's not be ignorant- we all know the atmosphere endorsed by Amsterdam. Weed, Marijuana for the older crowd- is a fact of life here. It's in some ways a tourist trap but for the most part its everywhere around you. Coffee shops and bars accept its use and of course while on the trip we were at these places, around the culture. This is not say I fully condone smoking weed or anything else for that matter, but I don't condemn it either, its just how they do things. Amsterdam has SO much more to offer other than the sketchy Red Light District, and that's what the trip was all about. The city's beautiful, and not everything that goes on there involves a prostitute or drugs- it has more character than that. That being said, lets get to the heart of the matter- the city itself.

WATER, WATER, WATER-I was blown away by the amount of water in in this city- now I knew there were canals and whatnot, but not so many did I anticipate. It adds to the city's beauty, which I'd say lies in its overall quaintness- everything seems so old fashioned. Cobblestones streets throughout, bicycles everywhere with baskets on the front, etc. Bike culture is HUUUGE there, to the point that walking and driving are more difficult, so almost everyone cycles. This is not to say that biking there is easy though- I learned this after renting a bicycle on Friday. You have to be quite cerebral in fact while cycling, aware of all traffic at all times and using hand signals appropriately. We cycled around most of the day, seeing the city, and went to the Van Gogh Museum, but the line was so long we decided to come back- luckily Saturday night would give me another chance.
Saturday morning's event was a short ride to the local Market. Dad you would have loved this- EVERYTHING you can imagine from fish to hats and gloves to dried fruit to shoes and bathroom items, bike accessories- you name it. This market was about a mile long and had everything. I went with Max who was looking for some household items, I got a bag of Dried mango slices and lunch- fried Killebat- all of this for very cheap and very delicious.
The amount of museums in Amsterdam is extraordinary, and I was lucky enough to get a ticket for and attend "Museumnochte" on Saturday evening. This is where all the museums in amsterdam(30 something) open their doors through the night, til about 2 am, offering food and drink along with seeing a part of the museum exhibits themselves. For a 16 Euro Ticket I was able to see some of the Van Gogh and Rijks Museums. It was a pretty popular event that sold out- Max and I were smart enough to hop on tickets early enough.
Sunday is a slow day in Holland, not many businesses are open. Max and myself needed to get some work done, so we headed to the new OBA Amsterdam Library. It's really really modern architecture was cool, quite different for a library. They had chairs that looked like something out of Men in Black and everything was white and very clean looking. Macintosh must have had some input to the design, I'd say, plus there were iMacs everywhere.

That lasted most of the day, so Max and I finished off the night with a movie and headed to sleep- he had class in the morning and I had a rendezvous planned for departure. It was great to see such a good friend from home and have some talks. We're planning on living together in the spring so the trip was a good prerequisite. you should SEE the view from his balcony, by the way!
I might say Amsterdam was one of my favorite cities so far, along with Galway maybe. It was so artsy with all its museums and really nice to look at to be honest. Architecture was....well, Dutch. Bike culture is awesome, and very environmentally friendly. Such a good time I had there- I think everyone would love it, seriously, regardless of its reputation.

That's it for now- wow that was a long one- NEXT STOP: ROME! love.

KILL KILL Killary

2007-10-30T03:39:00.001-07:00

On Friday morning, Arcadia University- the university that brought me here- took all its students to Killary Adventure Camp in west Ireland, northern part of County Galway to the most scenic Ireland I've seen. The best part was that this was an adventure weekend, spent outdoors doing activities all day. I'd say this was the best weekend I've had in Ireland yet, despite the rainy rainy weather. For 20 Euro we were given 3 meals a day, accomodation, and 2 full days of activity. You couldnt have asked for a better situation.
Friday night was a table quiz which was quite fun, me and other UCD Dublin people put our heads together to place 2nd overall in the quiz. Can anyone name the Shakespeare's longest play, or maybe the capital of Mongolia?? Saturday morning was planned for Kayaking, which we did for some time in the COLD COLD water, but the winds and rain were so heavy that we were forced out and into the gorge, walking up some waterfalls. My favorite part of this was getting to jump off a small cliff into the water- about 15 or 20 feet high or so, putting aside the beautiful scenery that was constantly around us all weekend.

Later in the day was the High Ropes course- it seems as though my fear of heights would constantly be in check this weekend, but that was the best part. I successfully mounted a 40 foot pole and lept off of it and grabbed a trapeze, proudly only 1 of 2 in the group to succeed in this activity. I was shaking quite profusely.
That night was a Halloween party, I dressed as The Gladiator, Maximus Decimus Meridius, aka Russell Crowe, fully decked out in a toga with a cardboard crown and sword.
SUNDAY was nuts. Morning activity: LASER COMBAT. Outdoors, Rainy, Muddy, in Camouflage outfits, war paint and all. At one point I found myself squatting in a river bank in my poncho, getting pummelled with rain- felt like a scene out of Apocalypse Now or something. This was a good activity cause all the UCD Dublin students did it together, quite the bonding experience.
Sunday afternoon activity?- BUNGEE Jumping. Mom I'm sorry, I had to do it. Just think, I was probably doing this while you were in church praying- what better time to do it?? I mounted and jumped a 100 foot platform or so. Me and a UCD student Kevin got plenty of footage of this event, unfortunately not on my camera. He actually got video of my drop. CRAZIEST thing I've ever done- a once in a lifetime thing that was a thrill. After Bungee, Omar and I got on this HUGE Swing, that pulls you back about 40 feet high or so and just DROPS you, you swing high and get to see the beautiful mountain scenery around us. A good way to end the activities.

That night was a trip to local pub, got to play Billiards with some locals, talk to some other students. A great time overall, I'm so glad i did it. At the awards ceremony Omar won "Best Rack" for dressing like a girl for Halloween, I won best Kayaker for successfully walking across 14 bridged kayaks without falling. My Prize? An Oscar Wilde T Shirt that displays "I've nothing to declare but my genius." How humble. LOVE YE- seanie

mmm GUINNESS

2007-10-25T05:14:00.001-07:00

So this week I was hosting some American friends who go to school in Prague and showed em around town. They wanted to go to the GUINNESS Storehouse here in Dublin, the factory where its all made. I took some pictures and it was fun, plus I got a nice tasty Guinness at the end in their "Gravity Bar", which overlooks all of Dublin with a 360 deg windowed perspective. here are some pictures...

Pictures are as follows: Guinness waterfall,showing the ingredients(hop, barley, yeast, and water), some Old Advertising, My Fresh Brewed Guinness- so very good, and

more Joyce- his quotes all on the windows, relative to what was in view. I'd have to say, my favorite part, other than the beer, was the history of advertising. GUINNESS MAKES YOU STRONG- seanie

Howth Rhymes With Both or Oath

2007-10-21T02:28:00.000-07:00

HEY YALL!! Sorry I've been quiet lately, I had a sick couple days last weekend and didn't leave campus, let alone my bed very often. But Im back in action this week and headed to Howth Island/Peninsula off the coast of Dublin on Saturday. The week was full of papers- 3 due, 2 of which were 40% of my grade, and lacrosse, games on Wednesday and Friday Nights. I was able to escape my business, though, with Omar to Howth, about 20- 30 minutes bus away. The bus took us to the summit of the hill overlooking the bay of the Irish Sea. Off the Lighthouse was a rocky, uninhabited island that was nice to look at, along with the sails. We had perfect views of this all the way down from the summit, stopping at vista points for photo opps. (Thanks Laura!!) I took so many pictures that my camera's memory card was full and had to delete photos from the previous Damien Rice trip. Dont worry, theyre all saved on my computer.

Hard to explain the feeling of our mountain descent, but we looked down on the Bay and all the Boats as we winded down some narrow paths and streets. I spotted the coolest car I've ever seen parked on the hill as well. omar and I took a dip into the center of this hill-town and got the feel for it, a really nice little town, with exceptionally beautiful flowers. I quote Joyce, "The sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth Head." I saw that quote in a shop window, took a picture. Who better to have summarize your experience in such a personal fashion than James Joyce?

Omar and I continued down the hill, tipped the Busking Saxophone player who played on the pier, remarkably setting a great mood for this village. We walked out on the pier, spotted a seal or two and kept our cameras flashing. Really a beautiful town on the water, difficult to describe; every angle provided some sort of amazing scenery. Straight Ahead was the water, sprinkled with Sailboats and a green island, behind was a hill with tips of houses peaking out of the foliage under a blue sky. Looking Left gave a panoramic image of this town: Fish and Chips Shops-Which surely we stopped for some afterward- waterfront restaurants and pubs. Trust me looking Right wasnt too bad either. It was a beautiful day. We ended it by stopping at a local Book Sale and purchasing some cheap but very selective reading. I brought home Roddy Doyle, so far my favorite modern author Ive taken from Ireland. I was trying to make it back in time to catch a local Gaelic Football Match, but we got back late. No biggie tho, twas a great day.

In further news, Ive purchased a ticket to AMSTERDAM for Nov 1st....that sounds like somebodys birthdayyyyy. I'll be back in time to get some work done and head onto ROME BABY, where I'll be seeing my lovely sisters. Anyone who missed that trip receives no pity from myself, I hope you wallow in your shame. I talked to LAURA and DAD this week, hoooooraaayyyyy!!! I hear DAD's obsessed with his iPod, thats grand. Chris your games are goin alright i hear? Some rainy ones i guess. Also, MIKE AND MISTY, pictures of the boys were awesome and well appreciated. MIKEY in his Martial Arts attire quenched an inconquerable thirst for child hysterics. LOVE YA!! CONGRATS TO MATT ON HIS APARTMENT!!

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles: KILLER WALES AND 12 HOURS IN LONDON

2007-10-07T02:08:00.000-07:00

I dont know how I did it, It's all kind of a blur(probably due to lack of sleep), but I successfully made it to London to see Damien Rice play, and I successfully returned. 30 hours, 5 of them contained sleep- normally in the seated position- Tons of miles, and every mode of transportation known to man since the invention of the wheel later, I'm "home" safe in Dublin. Let's go into detail.

First of All, I couldn't sleep the night before I left, so i just spent the time researching the hell out of this trip so I wouldn't strand myself- this proved effective for knowing stations, etc. I caught a TAXI to the Dublin Bus Terminal, which in turn took me to the Dublin Ferry Ports for my boatting trip across the Irish Sea. I couldn't believe how normal it seemed for a foot passenger to be hopping a Car Ferry to Wales, but there were plenty doing it. This was surprisingly quick, and Wales was gorgeous; unfortunately I couldn't stay long and only got limited photo opps. I purchased the most expensive leg of the trip with a Train ride to London- lasted about 5 hours. Met some Aussies, Canadians, and more travellers. Quite a ride. I finished an entire book I by 2 that I had only previously read 30 pages of. It was a long ride, but I had the company of my iPod, book, and Welsh scenery.

My arrival in London seemed surprisingly uncontested. I just rolled right into the Euston Station at 5 pm- slightly less that 12 hours after I had left my dorm room to hail a cab. I couldn't really mingle in London like I wanted to- I actually know people studying there and couldn't get a hold of them, but I was busy enough trying to figure my way to Wembley Stadium for the concert (FYI, where the Giants will be playing the Dolphins Oct 28th).

London's big. It didn't seem quite as big as NYC, but the Rail System seemed just as expansive. It took some figuring out, but the maps were clear enough, it was the actual leg work, such as finding the directionally appropriate platform, etc. that took some poise. BUT, i still got to Wembley well before the concert started.

Matt can appreciate my details of the concert. Vyvienne Long, Damien's cellist did her opening set, nothing to call home about, not nails on a chalkboard either, tho. Then Damien came on and played a really extensive set. I think he ended up playing 16 songs- i wrote em all down. Encore and all he rocked, and I rocked right with him, listened and watched in awe. He's an amazing performer, he really knows how to make the crowds moods flow- soft to hard to fun to funny and right back to soft but always sincere. Made the trip entirely worth while. My seats were definately a different perspective, too- i was side stage but pretty close. I could see him and the band before they went on, the sound crew working, and I could honestly see everything on the stage perfectly. I didn't get a perfect head on view of the light show but that didn't matter. It was amazing.

I purchased a Plane ticket home for very cheap before I left because I realized i wouldn't be able to make it to Wales on time for the Ferry ride with Sunday rail times. heading to the airport and catching the plane was a breeze compared to the rest of the tedious trip. It was sleeping/ occupying my time in the airport til 6 am that was really uncomfortable, but I kept myself occupied. I landed in Dublin at 745 AM and BAM, got home before 930.

Exhausted, hungry and broke. Mom and Dad, ask Chris to show you my facebook for the whole photo album. Love you guys so much, miss you. Im going to sleep. - Seanie

London? Suuure....

2007-10-04T07:59:00.000-07:00

So I came to the conclusion this morning, with some convincing from my roomate, that I'm gonna go to London on Saturday. Why? To see Damien Rice perform for the 3rd time. How am I getting there? I still basically have no idea, but at least I have a ticket to the concert.

I actually have booked a ticket for the fairy on saturday morning and return on sunday afternoon, but that only takes me to Holyhead, Wales. From there its about a 5 hour train ride to London, so I need to get going on my bookings. I'm very excited though- when my friend Max in Amsterdam told me he couldnt come with me to see Damien Rice in Scotland I was a bit discouraged at going on my own. Last minute i decided it was too much of an opportunity to pass up his concert in London, so I ran with the idea. Laura, have any ideas for going to and fro Wales? Im having trouble finding a Train that will arrive in Wales in time for my return sail across the Irish Sea. Oh well, I'll figure it out i guess.

This week I did have a Lax game Wed night, we lost 9-8, i wasnt too happy with my own performance but I think I'll live. I also took some time to go to the National Library, something I've been wanting to visit here for some time. They had a great exhibit on Yeats, that was cool. It's a serious environment, like high security research going on there. As a security guard described to be, "It's not your college library." Ibid.

Otherwise all's swell. Life is going fast, there aren't enough hours in the day sometimes. That's the mystery, though- how to fit it all in while keeping my sanity. Wish me luck on my spontaneous journey I have ahead of me. I'm kind of proud of myself that I've jumped into such uncertainty. Make me feel DANGEROUS - seanie

ROMA!

2007-10-01T04:10:00.000-07:00

Rome, here I come. I JUST this morning purchased my ticket for aflight to Rome. CATIE, ANNIE, and LAURA, i will depart from Dublin at 7 am on NOV 10, arriving in Rome, Davinci Airport at 11 AM. I'll leave on the 12th. WOOHOO.

I had a nice weekend here in Dublin, starting with the DBLL Draft on Saturday with some of the lads in temple bar. They actually did an entire Pre-Draft Write-Up on Dublinlacrosse.com with profiles of all the draft picks. its pretty funny, actually. they get really into this little league. Paddy O'Leary chose me 4th overall to Team Darkside. We got a rough deal in the draft, so Team Darkside will be playing with a chip on its shoulder all season.

Here at UCD, I've been juggling my time between reading, lacrosse, and heading into the city centre for some fun with roomates, etc. It seems as though my hobbies really aren't THAT much different than at home.

Interesting story I forgot to tell yall. On my way home last Wed from lacrosse late at night, I sat contently alone on the #10 bus when I spotted a girl named Avery Miles I had gone to High School with hop on the bus. I was beside myself when I saw her honestly. I mean, what are the chances I see a girl from Morristown, NJ hop on the same bus as me. I quickly found out she too goes to UCD this semester. She sat next to me in Homeroom like 6 years ago! How weird is that?

Other than that, Scott and Omar are planning a trip to Amsterdam for the 1st of Nov. I might join since we dont have class that week + I have a friend going to school there this semester. That means those 2 weeks I'll pretty much be on the road. It's a good time though, because its right after midterm papers and we dont have class that week. EXPENSIVE, though.

Sorry to keep blabbing. Can't wait to here from you all. I heard the Giants pulled out a nice win again this Sunday. Way to go Eli. Love yas- Seanie

Monday Morning QB

2007-09-27T02:19:00.000-07:00

I entitled this post, "Monday Morning QB" cause that's what i feel like. Last night i had my first installment of Dublin Lacrosse League's indoor box lacrosse. thats canadian style, different - 4 v 4 indoors, where its nearly legal to murder somebody. Thatll make mom feel great. Sorry, Ma.

Ive gotten close with the captain of the lacrosse team, Paddy O'Leary and he invited me to the dublin club games, every wednesday night on the north side of dublin. Just another thing to add to my list of things to do, but its a great time and itll keep me in shape.

This was such a busy week! Ive been so bogged down here, between classes, lacrosse, and planning travelling.

CATIE, ANNIE, AND LAURA!! im still finding out that I have papers, as in like 4 due the week of travel, so im trying to arrange the best time to get over to rome. Im very excited though, tickets seem so be rather cheap still so i should be okay.

DAD- youll be glad to know Ive been in frequent contact with Jenny Kerwin lately. She planned on coming to Dublin this weekend, a visit I was more than willing to cater to, but she's finding the tickets to be too expensive and wont be coming. Instead this weekend, the guys and myself plan on travelling the east coast a bit more. Howth is a scenic cliff-coasted peninsula off of County Dublin, about 30 minutes travel from me. So, we'll be checking out that and maybe an art gallery. Also, The Dublin Box League Draft is held in Temple Bar on Saturday- I'll keep you posted on my draft #- any predictions?

I'd also like to take this opportunity to let you all know how often im using things you guys have given me. CATE- my speakers come in handy for kitchen music especially. Also, my Tea mug is my most frequently used kitchen item. Thank you! LAURA- the camera is stellar, ive just gotta get more batteries for it. MOM AND DAD- the clothes you bought me right before break, and the yellow jacket ive got for the blistery weather ahead. ALSO, you gave me life and pay tuition. thats cool too. TOPHER and ANNIE- you guys are useless and have done nothing for me. but, I did beat MIKEY BURDETTE in fantasy football this week- i wouldnt have had that opportunity without CHRIS'S invitation. thank you.

To everybody else, you guys are just swell. ANNIE, you still need work. - seanie

Stickin' it Tuam

2007-09-23T12:46:00.001-07:00

Hello All! It has been quite an adventurous weekend, starting friday afternoon with a 4 hour bus ride to Tuam(actually pronounced "Tchoom"), Galway- West Coast Ireland. Myself, Scott, and another American named Jim (Kevins roomate who i happened to room with in the Dublin hostel weeks ago) were taken in by Breda and Sean Ansbro and their kids.

These people were awesome, very comfortable, very typically hospitable, and loads of fun. They have 3 children right up our alley, a 14 year old daughter Grace, 18 year old Adam, and 20 year old Carol- so we always had someone to talk to. Friday night was mostly conversation and laughs over dinner followed by an airing of some Irish Rugby- they lost, again- and some more Irish TV. Tuam is basically a very rural area with a small town center with stores and pubs, etc. They have a lot of land, cows and sheep are abundant, the scenery is beautiful. Unfortunely, the moment i turned my camera on when i got there it ran out of battery and I got no photos, at all, but its all up in my head. thats what really matters anyway.

Adam and Carol greeted us right away, Adam is a rugby playing ginger(red head), and Carol a very cute blonde girl whose practicing to be a nurse, yet seems to nurse more boy problems than wounds. Grace was at work but were blessed with her her first words of "Ah, Feck!" as soon as she walked in the door. Shes really smart for a young girl and works at a local Chinese Take Out place, but has a bit of an additude in the home-keeper's sense of the word, making tea and coffee and any chance and cursing you if you turned her down. Think Laura- or Aunt Lil-, with fair skin and red hair. (When i turned down dessert she said, "You're arse you're not eating dessert." I reconsidered.)

We got right into helping around the house, doing chores when needed, etc. On saturday, Grace got her new trampoline, replacing the previous ones which were destroyed when the wind took them away, so Scott, Adam, and myself got to setting it up. After that, we jumped around on it a bit, Scott passed out sleeping from staying up so late the night previous, and the rest of us fell into the scheme of things. Taking Adam to work at a local hotel pub, running to the grocery store to get some potatoes. very typical.

Saturday Night we met up with the other American lads stayin in Tuam for a night on the very small town, and conveniently meeting up with Adam when he was done with work at 2 am to head home. The pub was fun, mostly locals but some Norwejan people staying in town, but the pubs closed pretty early. Sorry Joe, no dirt. At our 230 am return, Grace was waiting for us with Tea and Coffee.

A trip to nearby Galway City greeted us in the morning, the absolute best time of our trip. This city is what i think ive been lookin for in Dublin. Narrow streets, small shops, street music, churches, street performers, and markets. tons of history here, seeing the City Wall which fended off Vikings eons ago, spanish built Archs and irish marble churches. We headed to the bay and saw the wind surfers, quite amazing stuff. Its really a great city, a holiday location for many. If anybody is coming to Ireland- Go to Galway! I loved it but had to part. After Breda fed us our Goose and mashed potatoes, which was amazing, we hopped on the bus for the long ride home. It was honestly such a great weekend- they were great people and seemed to enjoy us, invited us back if we ever head that way again. i make take them up on it.

I gotta go write a paper, Go Giants. - seanie

The Belfast Trip

2007-09-15T16:32:00.000-07:00

At 830 AM this morning, Omar, Kevin(our blonde haired neighbor from NH you see in some photos) and myself headed for Belfast, N Ireland. It was a scenic 2 hour trip up the coast by train, following the Irish Sea into the Sterling- ridden North. the train ride alone was worth the trip- went from city to vast farmland, to sandy beached shore line, valleys, and all the way back to city when we arrived at 1130-ish. Kevin slept the whole ride.
The city has some different architecture, we noticed gothic- styled buildings right away, and interestingly the City Hall appeared very Romanesque, with pillars galore and multiple busts and statues covering the surrounding green premises. We ate lunch there, and maneuvered ourselves, with difficulty, into some random art gallery. It's name is insignificant(honestly, I can't remember it)- but its style, which Kevin aptly labeled as "extreeemely contemporary" kept us entertained, nothing more so than the murals covering the outside of the brick building. The gallery was actually closed, but for some reason, after avoiding what seemed to be a neighborhood children's gang convicted of pissing in the museum hallways, we were allowed into what appeared to be a museum exhibit workshop.
This experience alone was hilarious. It felt as though we had stumbled upon a subculture movement amidst a break it had been taking to tighten up some loose gears. Somehow, we weren't intruding, and we didn't actually see very much art at all. I still cannot explain it, but my favorite part of the trip it was.
We continued to wander around the city, stopping in a small Pub called "The Spaniard", whose walls were ironically covered with American pop icons, like paul mccartney and jimi hendrix. The hummus was delightful. There were a couple more stops we made, including getting asked to leave from a private green(It looked public, I swear)But, more or less our day in Belfast came to an end. We finished it off with dinner and caught the train home. Mark Twain kept me company the whole way. Here are the vital photos, i think there are a lot of good ones, so maybe ill put a link in for more. Its 1 AM here, headed for bed. - seanie

Yes, Dad, I Got Your E-mails...

2007-09-13T06:23:00.000-07:00

Very busy week. Lectures started, a book needed to be read, more classes needed to be signed up for, etc. Its coming to a slow stop, though, as I have my last lecture of the week tomorrow. The lecture theatres are something out of MIT in Good Will Hunting, very large, auditorium-style. Classes are interesting though, as I'm taking 2 English courses, and Irish Studies Course(Contemporary Ireland: Continuity and Change) and 2 Philosophy. I've got my reading work cut out for me. I also joined the University CRUNCH!!! Fitness center, whose slogan I kid you not, reads, "Look Better Naked". Indeed.

The guys and myself have been coddled by our typically hospitable neighbor named Saoirse(Seer-Sha), from an island in Western Ireland, named Achill Island. She's 17, Chris's age-which seems strange to be at university-, tall, freckled and rosy cheeked. Classic Irish girl. She's cooked for us, nursed Omar's cold, come over completely unexpected, and told us everything she can about home as she knows it. Go figure.

I've taken some photos of the apartment to quench mom's curiosity. (Mom- you'd be proud to hear the meals Scott, Omar, and Myself have prepared. Marinated Steak & Chips, Spicy Chicken Quesadillas w/ Rice, Chicken Linguini w/ Tomato Sauce. True Chefs, here.)We're looking into taking a trip to Belfast, Northern Ireland this weekend just to get out. We've seen Dublin plenty, including a nice dinner at "The Hairy Lemon" midweek, so we thought we'd head out this weekend as the rest of the student body does. I miss you all, I cant think of anymore information I could possibly tell you...O yeah: I've been meeting so many international students here: last night 3 Italians from Florence- 1 was Irish-born- and a French guy who lives on the floor above me. This really is such an international city. Take it easy, enjoy home, everything's bigger there. - seanie(i was told "ie" is the only proper way to spell the irish nickname)

2 for 1

2007-09-09T10:19:00.000-07:00

I know already posted today, but fortunately Laura's camera that she gave me is providing another creative outlet, so i've been taking some photos lately, especially today in the city were some nice opp's. Here they are fam. - seany

UCD

2007-09-09T03:20:00.000-07:00

Its the weekend here are UCD, and everyone is gone. Apparently, Irish students love to go home on the weekends, leaving this campus completely desolate. This is actually good though, i plan on doing my traveling on the weekends, so i wont be missing much around here.

Yesterday, my roomates and I(Omar and Scott) headed into center city to do some shopping and to enjoy ourselves a little bit. We got some things for the apt that we were missing, and finished off the afternoon by stopping by a pub to watch some soccer. Apparently Ireland plays today in the Rugby world cup, taking place in France, and Irelands pretty good so I think we'll try and catch that.

As I mentioned my roomates earlier, theyre turning out great so far. It's hard to explain, but we all kind of understand eachother and get a long well, and we all love to wig out, i guess you could say. Scott's the ultimate people person from california. he's funny as hell, very strange sometimes- but its always entertaining. Omar is creative and smart, another English major from Virginia. He goes to William and Mary and plays the ukelele. We all love music and have things in common, so I'd say I'm pretty lucky I'm getting along with them.

Next weekend, I think Omar and I are gonna head west and seem some of rural ireland, but This week classes start, so we've gotta get on that first. Love you guys, thanks for checkin on me- Sean

PS- Anne, Laura, and Cate, I am fine with going to Rome whenever. that date is actually better, I'll be searching for the chapest tickets. Watch out for the gypsies!

Internet Connection...at last.

2007-09-05T06:41:00.000-07:00

I arrived at UCD today, after a few days in touristy dublin. Ive gotta say, theres nothing particularly fantastic about dublins sight seeing spots, its the architecture and general modesty that i really love about it. For instance, we went to the Abbey National theatre for a local production last night, actually moderately cheap compared to other dublin attractions, and it sat probably less that 300 people. very surprised. amazingly quaint little theatre. Also ive found some backroads that i really enjoyed. brick paved, old farm-style brick buildings next to new pubs, very awesome. The picture you see was taken after one of my many jet-lag naps when i decided to take a walk. Had a good time in center city, but it feels great to be settled and have my own room. I also owe you all a picture of a pigeon. Love yall, but ive got tons of things to do. LOVE- SEANY

JFK- just for kids?

2007-09-01T14:33:00.000-07:00

So this is it, family and friends. I'm sitting in the terminal at Gate 10, Delta Airlines, JFK. Mom took me through check-in and left me at the gate, an unlikely check-in partner(she hates the airport, if you couldnt guess), with dad nowhere in site. He either 1) couldnt find a parking spot 2) found a parking spot that wasnt good enough or 3) got into a fender bender backing out of a spot that 'wasnt good enough'.

either way, here i am. since i have no photos of the green land, i thought i'd show you my view in the terminal overlooking the derelict waters of new york city. O yeah, theres a pigeon in the terminal, i thought that was funny so i took a picture. Thanks guys for everything, I'll contact you all when i get there, somehow. - Love, Seany