Tá Teach Yourself Irish cailte orm!

[muckefuck]

My parents were in town for my stepsister's baby shower this weekend, so bunj and I met Dad at Chief O'Neill's, an Irish pub in Avondale (or "West Roscoe Village", as those shameless bastards in the real estate business are calling it these days) for Sunday brunch. It was an excellent experience (the corned beef hash is some of the best I've had anywhere) and I look forward to a return visit--particularly once the weather is fine enough to enjoy their tremendous biegarten--er, gairdín beorach?

We spent some time exploring the neighbourhood and found it quite intriguing. A lot of new construction (including the condo where my stepsister and her husband have just moved to), but some lovely old housing stock as well. We were particularly struck by the architecture of local pub Kuma's Corner, which SBIL tells us serves first-rate burgers, and legendary encased meat emporium Hot Doug's is a jauntlet away. Although the sun was shining, the wind was rather raw, so we stopped into Mojoe across the street for an infusion of warming liquid.

Unfortunately, this is where my copy of Teach Yourself Irish went mysteriously missing. Both bunj and my father swear that I left O'Neill's with it, and when I stopped by again just to be sure, our lovely waitress Dahlia (who recognised me and hung around to assist me even though she was clearly dressed to leave) left not a stone unturned. We were on the move every step before entring the café, so it is inconceivable that I could've left it anywhere else.

At first, I was well pissed off--why steal something of such importance to me and such marginal value to anyone else?--and the mocha I drank was no help, as it caused me to focus on the misfortune with terrier-like intensity. On top of that, the trip home was excruciating. How annoying is it to ride a CTA bus running ahead of schedule, so that it stops at every light even close to changing instead of gunning through the red with the devil-may-caritude of true CTA driver? But after two gin cocktails courtesy of muckefuck, life is good again.

It also doesn't hurt that the volume turned out to be easier to replace than I anticipated. ($20 hardcover through one of Amazon's used book dealer's.) Even so, I decided that I deserved some compensation for my pain and so dropped $40+ on the Pimsleur course (widely criticised for featuring only Munster Irish, but that's what I'm studying so fuck 'em) and an introduction to Old Irish (Táin Bó Cúailnge, here I come!) So, all in all, I (and Amazon) come out ahead!

Comments

[danbearnyc.livejournal.com]

And have you seen this?

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

$1.48 cheaper than Amazon.com, but they gave me free shipping.

[danbearnyc.livejournal.com]

It was about $15 dollars less expensive when I ordered my copy last week, even after the shipping was added in. Prices, they do change.

[richardthinks.livejournal.com]

Those must've been good cocktails. Even I'm seeing double.

[oh-meow.livejournal.com]

Have you ever seen that Irish language soap opera? I can't remember its name, but it's the Irish equivalent of Pobl y Cwm, and apparently just as bizarre, with a cult following.

[pne.livejournal.com]

Ros na Rún?

ISTR reading that it even had a following among a number of non-Irish-speakers, who'd watch it with subtitles.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Never seen a full episode, but I'm in love with Pól Ó Griofa (a.k.a. Mack) all the same. Have you seen the episode of No Béarla where Manchán Mangan asks ordinary people on the streets of Galway to identify actors from Ros na Rún? Entertaining, if not so good for their egos.