Character Sketch: Annie Fitz

Most (well, many) locals here will tell you tales of Annie Fitz, and most (well, many, unfortunately) of these tales are true.

Meet the illusive and infamous Annie Fitz, captured here by some low-rent camera phone operated by a passerby who was not me.

By all accounts the most well-known drunk in the city of Limerick, Annie Fitz will do anything for a can of cider. Or beer. Or whatever beverage might come in a can-shaped vessel and contain even trace amounts of alcohol. Annie lives in the park, in good weather, and howls at the moon, when visible. And she is always, ALWAYS drunk.

Townsfolk speak of the following--

Annie relieves herself in public. Yes, both #1 and #2. Amazingly, against storefront windows, somehow defying physical laws of nature.

Annie performs certain acts on men in exchange for booze. Maybe she is an equal opportunity booze whore, too, but no female stories have surfaced. And why men admit to participating in that is beyond me.

Annie pulls steak knives on elderly shopkeepers to demand chewing gum. See previous item.

Annie set her boyfriend or her brother on fire. Perhaps, one and the same.

Of all the travellers (Irish gypsies, see Brad Pitt's character in "Snatch,") homeless people, street urchins and otherwise shady denizens traipsing around over here, Annie Fitz is by far the best-known character. For Little Rock residents, this would mean she's bigger than Dirty Walking Man and Dirty Santa combined. She's the Elvis of the Underbelly. Team Fitz.

Happy Anniversary (to Me)

One month, I've been here.  A whole month.

You can do a lot in a month.

Something I've not done with any regularity, unfortunately, is picture-taking.  (That, and also blog-updating.  Har, har, very funny.  Thanks.)  So, I'm forever forgetting my camera.  Those who know me well are presently musing in front of your computers that I conveniently forget my camera, lest the lens capture me and, therefore, my soul.  Annoyed with pictures of myself, it's true.  So here's a link to some images not of me but of the things I'm seeing all around...

http://gallery.mac.com/juniperpie#100015

It's sleeting now.  Happy Spring.

j:.

The Daily Grind

The routine goes like this—

(6:30AM) Cell phone alarm goes off. I roll out of the bed I’ve made on the floor of my flat. Two twin mattresses pushed together and made up nicely. I walk three steps across a landing and unlock my bathroom door, turn on the immersion switches and take a nice hot shower. Warmest I am all day. The steam kinda hangs in the air, cold and damp as the world is here.

Make instant coffee,

Eat strange-tasting Cheerios,

Get dressed and ready for whatever weather is waiting on me,

(7:30ish) Head out to work.

On the days it hasn’t been pouring rain, I walk. 25 minutes at a brisk pace, and I’m at the Bóthar office. Couple of days I’ve gotten lost on the way. Frustrating. Then it’s work, work, work through the day, usually without stopping, so I can leave at 3PM to run errands. And by “running errands,” I mean literally walking to shops and stores, carrying bags all along the way. Thank God for smart Arkansan friends and their genius gift of a backpack.

“I think I lost it, lemme know if you come across it…” --Lucinda Williams

So far, the only meltdowns I’ve experienced have both happened in the grocery store. The first happened only a few days into my relocation; the second happened a week later. Each time, it felt like a monumental task to select food, because hardly any of the brands are the same and even some of the food names are completely different. And when I decided to make my mom’s lasagna recipe, and converted all the measurements into grams and the baking temperature into Celsius, I found myself confused and in front of the canned tomatoes, tears running down my face. But the end result was a somewhat odd-shaped dish of the tastiest lasagna this side of the Mississippi. Take that, Metric System, with your grams and your logical approach to measurement.

It’s Friday—bank holiday on Monday, with St. Patrick’s Day celebrated throughout the weekend.

Happy Paddy’s Day, y’all.

j:.

First Days

Sitting at my desk in Bothar's offices, trying to get used to the quiet and cold. The cold is the hardest thing to get used to--didn't anticipate the cold. Air is all-the-time damp, so it feels colder than it should. My new friends here talk about a "bite" in the air in the "lashing" rain, making it all feel "feckin' Baltic" outside.

"The first days are the hardest days..."
--Grateful Dead

Arrived in Dublin on Thursday, 28 February, and hit the ground running in Limerick with my first week of work last week, in dealing with broken washing machines and my broken foot and losing my way around town and grocery shopping and government red tape and all kinds of new experiences. But the people here, truly, are what makes the place. Could NOT be more gracious. I thought Southerners were the nicest people around, but the Irish make us look like a bunch of Yankees. At least I think these people are nice--can't really understand everything said through thick (pronounced "tick" here) Limerick accents. Because I am quite sure I'm not the one with an accent, of course.

So, for your enjoyment, check out this link to brush up on your Irish slang--

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiberno-English

I miss my family and friends and, of course, my Lola. Pictures and hopefully some video to come soon.

j:.