So last night, I was out at The Crane pub until 3:00am playing music:


So yeah, I stumble home sober (hahaha), and plop into bed. And just like clockwork, my alarm wakes me up for my 9:00am Irish (Gaelic) class. Ugh. I roll out of bed, put on my other shoe (one was already on my foot) and trudge off to class.

I walk in, and there's a new professor. Apparently, Éamonn was sick, so we had a sub. Sinéad. Ooh lala. Jet black hair, eyes as green as the Irish countryside, gorgeous Connemara accent. Yeah, I had it bad. So I walk in, and here's how it goes down:

"Dia duit," shes says.
"Dia is Muire duit."
"Cén t-ainm atá orm?"
"Greg atá orm. Cá bhfuil Éamonn?"
"Tá sé tinn. Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú?"
I laughed and just said, "Beo ar éigean..."

I then had to explain that I was up all night and still pretty hung over. "A chréatúr!" she cried, but because she knew the feeling, she asked, "Ar mhaith leat deoch uisce?" I barely got out "Ba mhaith!" by the time she handed me a bottle. "Nár laga Dia thú." It was awesome.

Later in class, I tried to a question in English, but Sinéad would have none of it. "Labhair Gaeilge liom le do thoil," she demanded. I learned more in this one class than the whole semester combined. I guess I just payed more attention when a gorgeous Irish woman taught it...