Shopping Carts:
Who would have thought the first thing I’d miss about the US was shopping carts? Certainly not me as someone who wipes down the whole cart, picks one with a janky wheel, and inevitably crashes it into something. But when you’re faced with a long list of items-to-be-purchased in a homegoods store, suddenly those carts are looking pretty good. Am I a staunch believer in the whole “two trips are for losers” approach to life? Yes, absolutely. Am I a staunch believer that I can in my arms gather two pillows, a full set of dishes, organizing boxes, silverware, a kitchen pot, a baking sheet, a blanket, still have an arm to pick up more stuff, and not drop literally everything? No, absolutely not. Less than three days in Dublin, and Ireland has already forced me to abandon the practical American pastime: buying too much shit in one go.
Normal Sized Birds:
There is the commonly held belief that everything in Europe is a step above trashy American culture with their smaller cups, stately buildings, and generally superior fashion sense. But let me tell you, there is nothing dainty or sophisticated about pigeons and seagulls double the size of American ones. They may be the same species, but Ireland’s birds look like genetically mutated birds of prey with a clear mission: scare the shit out of Americans. Surely their monstrous size is not natural? Their inflated sense of self, literally and figuratively, has given them a comfort of invincibility I must admire on some level. Just in the time it has taken me to write this, I have had a pigeon take a nap less than a foot away from me and another fly straight into the head of an unsuspecting tourist walking by. The squawking birds that shit on my sweater at lunch in middle school were certainly not a part of America I thought I would miss, but damn do those look like adorable pets now.
Standardised Toilets:
I have to give Ireland credit for its sheer creativity in toilet design. Back home when you think of an in-home toilet, they all look essentially the same; the same goes for public toilets. But here, it seems that those in the plumbing industry are set on making every toilet an unique piece of art that has led me to take an embarrassingly long time figuring out how to flush. On the one hand, I respect the refusal to conform to toilet stereotypes, but it would be nice to walk into a bathroom and be met with an unassuming piece of plumbing that is familiar and clear, not a puzzle I am too stupid to solve. All I ask is that I be left to pee in peace and not have to question my basic human intelligence every time I flush.
(Written on 9/6/25; three days after I moved in)
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