Humans of Dublin

In the past 23 years of my existence, I’ve learned a few hard truths about myself. I’m not particularly funny. Sure, small children like to laugh at my singing in church sometimes, but joke-telling has never really been my thing.
I’m not very creative either. I like colors and will do just about anything for the chance to rearrange furniture – even if it’s not mine – but it often takes me more effort to think of a ‘unique’ way of doing something than if I were to just do it the first way that came to my mind.
The last two months in Ireland have also taught me that I do not have, nor will I ever have, the Irish wit or drinking tolerance. I know I sport a fancy Celtic surname, but I’m simply missing the genes which were supposed to go along with it.
Living in Dublin has also validated something that I always knew about myself. Big reveal: I’m an extrovert! And in my natural extroverted way, I’ve spent most of my time in this country striking up conversations with just about everyone I have met. Thus, the only conceivable way for me to proceed with this blog post is to showcase the fascinating characters I have met as a Mitchell so far.
Humans of Dublin, as told by Megan McNulty (pictures to follow next addition)
Marie doesn’t own much. She has a simple style and a fierce face and is eager to tell you of her Russian background and current legal battle with her landlord. She doesn’t want attention; she wants a friend. I met her for coffee after running into her at the Saint Vincent De Paul campaign to end the hidden homeless problem in Dublin. I bought her coffee and she immediately lit up. She proceeded to read me her poetry and explain her love for her new country, Ireland. She wants to make a movie one day on the festering wounds of Ireland and the legacy of British Imperialism. She asked me if I, as an American, knew Steven Spielberg and if I could put her in contact with him.
The Gallagher’s are the proudest parents and grandparents I have ever met. With their children in Canada, America, Ireland, and England, the couple is abroad babysitting more than they are at their home in Tralee. I was taking some high school friends to Cork on the Sunday morning train when they asked us about our travels. We soon began to exchange tales of our journeys, and their excitement was obvious as they talked about their upcoming trip to Vietnam. Since their kids started their own families, the Gallagher’s plan to see the world one country at a time. They told us the best places to visit in the area and demanded that we give them a ring if we were ever in trouble. Then they asked who we were voting for.
James is five. He hears everything that is said around him and will never let you forget a promise. He likes sweeties, though he’s not supposed to eat too much of them, and he spends a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how to be the perfect big brother to his two younger sisters. He is extremely tactile and touches books and biscuits as he counts them. I met James in passing through his Auntie, but he’s quick to take a liking to someone as long as they don’t treat him like a baby. I talked to him like he was an old friend, and now he gives me the biggest hug whenever I see him. He calls me Miss Megan.

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