5 days alone in Dublin...here are the stats: 2 novlels, 9 movies, 1 French film star, 3 new dresses, 0 Irish boyfriends (unless you count the bum I gave a cig to who offered me a date). The upside is I have learned to appreciate my own company more, or at least entertain myself so I don't go stark raving mad. I can always fall back on my inside kid tendencies and read or draw, good time killers (though do little for making me seem like less of an unaproachable douche bag). However my love of drawing with pencil has been saved from the annals of history, if only because Im sick of a dreary selection of ball point or sharpie. In little over 5 days my grand European dream will reach its natural conclusion. Ive been here forever, but also not so long. I never want to leave, but Im also desperate to get home. I'll miss moving to a new town every two weeks. I'll miss my wild pack of feminists. Fuck this I want do overs. Oh well, theres always Yuck.