Several years ago, MJ and I made a pilgrimage to the land of (some of) his forbears, Ireland. We traveled on our own to Dublin, took a bus up to Termonfecken to peer at the lichen-covered headstones – searching for said forbears – rented a car in Galway, and adventured our way down the west coast and back up to Dublin, searching for music. We had a blast.

The following year, we heard about Celtica Tours to Ireland, headed up by Robbie O’Connell, a nephew of our favorite Irish Trad group, The Clancy Brothers. We couldn’t resist and booked ourselves in. Again, we had a blast. Despite the swan dive and face-plant I did off the top step of the bus at some castle or another. Not their fault, though. That was all me.

It was so much more relaxing to let someone else do the driving (except maybe on some of those narrow, twisting back roads, when it became tour bus vs. compact car, or worse, tour bus vs. tour bus), and we really got to enjoy the scenery. And there were “sessions” every evening. And the camaraderie of our fellow travelers – characters themselves. Like Anna the Puppet Lady from Boston.

That’s where we met the Zoo Lady and her hubs, who hail from Arkansas. The Zoo Lady and I hit it off and had many wonderful conversations over a Bulmer’s or Guinness and cigarettes in the hotel parking lots. We kept in touch via e-mail when we got back, mostly during hurricane season (she has family on the Florida west coast), especially when storms approached or passed (“Are you guys okay?” “Did your folks have any damage?”).

This past Fall, we discovered – through forwarded and personal e-mails – that we even share the same political views. Which was a relief. You know how you just don’t want to offend someone whose views you’re unsure of, because you like them and don’t want them to cut you off? It was like that.

The Zoo Lady was in Florida last week to visit her family and help out with stuff, but we couldn’t manage to coordinate a visit. Still, we had the first voice-to-voice contact since Ireland, and it was just like being back there. ->Sigh<- A bright spot in an otherwise dismal week of more dusting and straightening and digging out at my FIL’s. Yes, that mess continues. Although the living room pretty much resembles a living room now, and we discovered an actual couch and coffee table in the FIL’s “office”! Seriously, I thought it was all a mountain of junk, but when you cleared off the junk, there was furniture under there! Un-freaking-believable.

Anyway, the Zoo Lady reads this blog, too. I know you’re out there – I can hear you breathing… so if you don’t like your nickname, come up with something better. And leave a comment. Yo.

I am sitting in a really run-down room at a very nice hotel (the Doubletree) in, of all places, Charlottesville, Virginia. Setting aside for the moment why I am in Charlottesville, Virginia, let us just say that this room has stained and bubbling wallpaper and chipped, scratched, and just beyond belief 1960′s “Federal”-style furniture. We won’t even talk about the bedspread, because, well, until I figure out why I can’t e-mail myself photos from my phone, description alone wouldn’t suffice. This room would be an embarrassment in a Motel 6 (I would imagine), much less a Doubletree.

I can only surmise that they don’t give a shit because the hotel is undergoing renovation and perhaps it will live up to the name sometime in the future. Or maybe the nicer rooms are on the non-smoking floors? What else I don’t get is, why don’t they have a freaking ATM in the lobby? I’m told it was removed because of the renovation. But then why – I actually asked skinny bitch (restaurant manager?) surveying the lobby – if the renovations at present affect the operation of an ATM, is the hotel capable of operating at all? After all, the wireless internet functions just fine (this blurb is proof). This place sort of shares a parking lot with the SAM’s Club next door, and I shouldn’t have to tell you that spaces are scarcer ‘ n hens teeth. I’m betting that’s how a traditionally cheap-ass group like this scored group rates at $89.00/night at a Doubletree.

And while I’m at it – and I feel justified being an HHonors member and all that – why does Hilton Hotels not supply their housekeeping departments with Febreze? Look. I’m a smoker. I like the comfort of being able to smoke in my hotel room whenever I want. OK? But I hate the place to smell like a stale ashtray. I am a civilized person, whatever you care to believe about my personal choices and habits. YOO HOO! HILTON! WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY! IT’S CALLED FEBREZE AND I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO PACK MY OWN BOTTLE OF IT WHENEVER I TRAVEL!

OK. Got that out of my system. For now. I’ll leave the mystery of why I’m here till maybe tomorrow….

Fab! I’m up to PG!