[Insert Witty and/or Profound Title...]

Just to clarify, yes, I'm still alive. Sorry I've been remiss in my blog updates lately. I shall try to make up for it with a wildly entertaining and riveting post. Starting with...


Cookies
Now I know you're all on the edge of your seats. 
The mission: Contribute to the menu for Thursday's dinner/hangout session and repay the kindness of everyone who's been sharing their amazing food with me by baking that rare delicacy among the Irish, chocolate chip cookies. 
The advantages: chocolate chips mailed to me by my ever-zealous mother, other baking supplies obtained successfully at Tesco. 
The oddities: Eggs in Irish supermarkets aren't refrigerated. Perhaps Salm O'Nella feels at home in Ireland? Also, baking soda is labeled "sodium bicarbonate" so it's a good thing I guessed correctly on that one. 
The disadvantages: We had only one (liquid) measuring cup, so estimation was the rule rather than the exception. Cookie sheets are fun-sized here, i.e., I could only fit nine cookies on a tray and had to make half a dozen mini-batches rather than be done in one or two rounds. Oh, and our oven hates the world; it likes to burn edges while leaving centers mushy. 
The result: moderate success. The products of Batch #1 were lovely if a tad on the small side. The products of Batch #2 were rather crispy dwarf-cookies, perfect for bite-sized snacking, not so perfect for the cover of a Betty Crocker cookbook, but even so they were all eaten by the end of the night.


Art
The Crawford Art Gallery in Cork is one of those buildings I walk past all the time and which, finally, I got to actually walk into this weekend. Art is by no means my forte, but I couldn't help being impressed by what I saw. First there was the collection of sculpture casts--copies of famous classical Greek and Roman statues, which King George IV of England regifted to Cork's Society of Fine Arts in 1819, after he got them from the Pope. It's really amazing to look at sculptures up close and realize that someone chiseled the folds of that cloth or the strands of that hair out of a shapeless chunk of stone. Then there were photography exhibits, and portraits of dead people (and, let's face it, dead people are my forte), and some lovely old landscapes, including a painting of Cork from the early 19th century. It was so surreal to look at the image of the city--to recognize the slope of the hills and even a few landmarks--and know that I was in the same place that was depicted in the painting. But my nerdiest moments came when we reached the Cooper Penrose Collection--an exhibit of paintings, furniture, books, dishes...you get the idea...that had belonged to a very prominent 18th century Cork family. Your man (as they say here) Cooper Penrose was a "Merchant Prince" and had the material trappings to back up the nickname. This was where I really lagged behind the others. I just had to stop and look at the family portraits and the bookcase/desk contraption from the 1700s. I wasn't too intrigued by the display of dining china until the weird avante-garde-y sound-based exhibit in the next room started causing some of the pieces in the display case to vibrate. Here's this 17th and 18th century dinner plate shaking from the vibrations of some artist's experimental electrically generated sound waves....very trippy. To an overactive imagination it seemed almost ghostly. And then I decided I should probably catch up with everyone else before they left without me. 


Churches
On the way to the art gallery (this post is not even remotely in chronological order) we stopped to peek into "Saints Peter and Paul's" Church (one saint apparently isn't good enough for some people), which was built in 1866 and is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS INSIDE. I'm pretty sure I actually went "Whoa!" when we walked in, which wasn't very reverent of me. We didn't take any pictures because there were a few people in the pews praying, and in any case I always feel awkward about taking pictures in churches. (Earlier in the week I popped into South Church, the oldest Catholic Church in the city--built 1766!--and I snapped a couple of shots and then sort of glanced up and whispered, "Sorry...You don't mind, do you?") Anyway, this place was beautiful. It was a really gloomy gray day outside, but somehow the stained glass at the otherwise-shadowy front of the church still looked incredibly bright and sunlit. Someone who works there has really mastered the lighting. A little later, we trekked over to Saint Finbarre's Cathedral and finally had a look in there too. It was grand (in all senses of the word), though not as breathtaking as SS Peter and Paul's. On the other hand, the priest, who was getting ready to close down the building, let us know that we had about five minutes to look around, and he saw me looking sheepish with my camera he said, "You can take as many pictures as you want, love, there's no problem." So I did my best to make the most of the next five minutes. Once I figured out how to control my flash, which is the bane of my existence.


"Cinema"
The other weekend I succumbed to the temptation to re-view two movies I'd already seen, Tangled and The King's Speech. Thus I learned that, at Irish movie theaters (or theatres, to be more precise), your ticket is just a printed receipt printed on the kind of flimsy paper I'm always inclined to lose instantly. The ticket guy in front of each individual theater makes a little tear in this all-too-easily-torn piece of paper, and then you're all set. One of the girls who went with us to the The King's Speech was German and was surprised that we didn't get assigned seats; that's how they do it in Continental Europe, apparently, just as if it were a concert or a play. Also, you get to keep your 3D glasses. I wonder if I'd get a discount for bringing mine with me the next time I go to see a 3D movie. (I mean, what else are they really charging me for? Enhanced dizziness?) Also, for the first time in I can't remember how long, I saw a blank screen when I entered the theater; there was no "First Look" nonsense, and we only got a few commercials and previews later. (Favorite line ever: "What goes through a sheep's head when it's watching rugby?") 


Now I think I'd better start writing the paper that's due tomorrow. (It's 10:52 my time. Some things are constant.) Next time on Amy's Occasionally Interesting Blog: weekend trip to Dublin and other episodes of nerdy excitement. Probably some more churches too, if we're being realistic. And more cookies if we get really lucky.