Well folks, it is time again for an anecdote that has everything to do with my experience as a person living life but the fact that I am abroad is simply inconsequential in context. Honestly, I think this genre of blogging is my favorite both to write and to read so maybe that means European culture is too highbrow for me and I ought to stick to simple stories of personal incompetence. I don’t know, but here we go.

I am going to backtrack for just a second to relate this story to the country of Ireland and, in doing so, contradict my previous claim of cultural irrelevance. Ireland is quite rainy due to its geographical location and identity as an island. This morning it was raining. That is where my story begins.

There I was, powerwalking to class, (It always seem to be powerwalking. Never can I leave for class with ample time for a casual stroll. Alas.) knowing I would need to maintain my current pace in order to make it on time. I mentally acknowledged that due to the damp chill in the air, I also would need to make a stop at the toilets (not restroom, toilets) en route to the classroom in order to blow my nose before class began.

I glanced at my watch, struggling to force its emergence into this dreary world from underneath the excessively-long sleeves of my raincoat. After a moment of battle with Nike’s most waterproof, I successfully pulled up my sleeve to reveal that, if I continued at my current pace, I would time my arrival perfectly. I smiled to myself with a sigh of satisfaction, as this realization is a rare event for me.

I continued on my way, artfully dodging puddle after enormous puddle and silently thanking the Lord for the intuition to include rainboots in my outfit for the day. As I crossed the street and approached the building, I noticed a giant puddle silently looming across the entirety of the path, a freshwater ocean daring me to approach. Because I am a resourceful and innovative engineering student, I quickly searched for ways to avoid this liquid monolith and eventually noticed that the adjacent curb rose above the surface of the water, delineating a safe passageway.

Grinning slyly at my inferior opponent, I gracefully mounted said curb and continued to strut with ease. (At this point, I must credit Miss Dorothy, my Little Dipper gymnastics instructor circa 2000 who helped to establish my fundamental balance beam skills. Miss Dorothy, I am forever indebted to you.) As I neared the end of the curb, I glanced at the ground to find a narrow pool of water still beckoning towards me.

Challenging this agile foe, I promptly leapt from the curb to land on the ground on the opposite side of the looming puddle of doom. However, as I landed, the combination of the slippery nature of wet asphalt and the lack of traction of my rainboots conspired against me and before I knew it, I was on my hands and knees deep in the trenches of the puddle I had so enthusiastically attempted to avoid.

Frustrated with myself, the rain, and life in general, I took a deep breath and stood up to see if anyone had caught sight of my stunt. Indeed, just as I brushed the dirt off my pants, a fellow female rain traveler walked right past me. I glanced at her with a knowing smile and a playful shrug, letting her know that neither my pride nor my physical body had been injured whilst simultaneously giving her unspoken permission to laugh in solidarity at my misfortune.

Well, this fellow female rain traveler apparently had no interest in solidarity because she returned my knowing smile and playful shrug with a dark glare. Not a look of pity or confusion or simple nonchalance, but a glare. As if my tumble had offended her. Although at the moment I was put off by this reaction, in my reflection, I am going to assume the best in her and that maybe she, at one point in her life, had a tragic experience involving falling in a puddle and my episode brought upon dark memories she wasn’t in the mood for recounting. Fellow female rain traveler, if you’re out there reading this, I send you my best and if you ever need someone to talk to, I am here for you, through and through.

I will finish this “story” by saying that despite this tragic episode, I did manage to make it to class on time and pop by the toilets to clear my sinuses beforehand. I also must make another statement/reflection about the culture. For the most part, I am very appreciative of the lack of paper towels in the country because paper towels contribute to so much waste and deforestation, effectively contributing to the slow but eventual decline of our planet and society. However, I will admit, that on a dreary day when one's pants are soaking wet from the knee down, a paper towel or two would certainly be appreciated.