So here is a post that should, by rights, be dated January 20, 2002.

I've already posted about the side trip me and McQ took to Dublin while we were in London. We were only there for a weekend, but (wow!) what a weekend. I don't even know where to start, and I'm crossing out the really sappy stuff editing this post for gooberness so that it won't induce dry-heaving in my more cynical friends (read: 90% of the people I know.)

We actually went for a multitude of reasons. I've wanted to go to Ireland since I can remember because a good percentage of my ancestors came from there, and McQ had been before and wanted to go again. I'd be full of b.s., however, if I didn't admit that my primary reason for going was to meet up with M.L. We'd been talking online for a while, so the prospect of being in the same timezone and not meeting was pretty well unthinkable.

Finally got there (on a bumpy Aer Lingus flight where the Bailey's flowed like water), and the phones weren't cooperating, so we didn't meet the first night (ok, so I couldn't figure out how to use McQ's calling card... not my finest moment.) The second day I lept into the 1980's and figured out how to make a phone call in a foreign country, so we ended up meeting that night. We got down to the lobby where him and his friend were waiting and I had to fight the urge to grin like a big doofus noted that my mental picture was remarkably accurate. By the way, I'm knicknaming his friend Captain America because of the excellent impression he did of American accents while intoxicated. So we left the Hotel (which I'm knicknaming Fort Chastity because if their ridiculous policy regarding non-registered guests in the rooms.)(ed. note: I'll try and refrain from knicknaming everything... this is just a disgruntled attempt at humor. end ed. note.) Wait, where was I? Oh, right, we left the convent and headed for the streets of Dublin. McQ and Captain America hung back a bit, probably to give M.L. and I a chance to talk a bit, which was excellent of them. We walked down to the river, where I got to see the world famous Dublin Crane (which was breathtaking, by the way.) We made it to the first stop, which was a pub. Not just any pub, mind you, a Russian pub. In Dublin. We went up to the bar because there were no other available seats, and he asked McQ if he could sit next to me, which made me grin like a big doofus smile. We sat and drank and talked and drank some more, and more and more of his friends kept arriving. The pub's upper level opened, so we migrated up one floor and took over a corner before the place filled up. And I mean filled up, too. Like becoming intimate friends with a total stranger type of full. It was great, though. M.L.'s friends are some of the coolest people I've ever met, hands down. Of course, birds of a feather flock together, right?

So McQ got tired at midnight, and no way was I going to call it a night when M.L. hadn't kissed me yet I was still partially sober, so we (M.L. and I) walked her back to the hotel and wished her a good night. We headed back to catch up with his friends again, this time at a different pub, and by now it was down to Captain America and one other guy. We sat at a booth in the corner and just hung out and talked, playing occasional tunes on the bottles.

I'm not going to go into detail about the rest of the evening because it would all be written like this anyway, and because some things aren't for public forum, especially with people finding their way here from creepy search queries and all. Suffice it to say Best. Night. Ever. It's now over a month later and I still miss him so much I ache would really like to see him again some time.