A couple of weeks ago, I was bitten by the love bug and now I’m smitten. You know that feeling of butterflies in your stomach you get when pass by someone you like? That giddiness that floods over you when thinking about that person? Well, I’ve been suffering from those symptoms since I saw Enter the Haggis play at the High Noon Saloon on November 14.

Enter the Haggis categorizes themselves as a celtic rock band. Drums, bass, couple of guitars, keys, bagpipe, fiddle, pipe and thick, rich, rich, rich, four-part vocals. I should admit that my background is completely Irish, so there may be a genetic component involved in my attraction to the music in the first place. That said, many of their songs hover solidly and awesomely within celtic rock. They’re bold, incessantly drive the beat until your hips start moving, unfurl tales of drinking and make you want to grab your pint and shout “yeah!” Just those songs alone induce head bopping and waves of happiness. However, what makes Enter the Haggis such a great band is that they incorporate many other styles of music and successfully fuse them with celtic rock. (not a small feat, my friends)

Occasionally when concentrating on music, I’ll close my eyes and let my head drop. (Sometimes I get distracted by other people or the beer in my hand.) During such a moment at the show, one song started with an incredibly funky guitar riff. I smiled and started bouncing my knee to the beat. After a good sixteen measures of the syncopated wah-ness, I looked up and saw the frickin’ fiddler bowing the funky goodness through an effects peddle. Are you kidding me?! Delighted and impressed, I laughed heartily and grooved with him. The band joined him and managed to keep the funk going with a celtic flair WITHOUT making it seem like a gimmick. This is not a trivial obstacle to overcome.

The whole show was energizing and had most of the unfortunately small audience grooving while seated or off their bums in front of the stage. It put me in a great mood and the band’s “Northhampton” CD has had me dancing in lab for days.

If they’re playing in or near your city, go see them. Seriously. I guarantee it’ll be a good time.

Last night I went to see my relatives on the Jersey Shore. My cousins live in Spring Lake, which my parents claim is nicknamed the Irish Riviera. Sometimes I think my parents create these whimsical tidbits for my amusement, but the town lives up to the name. My dad and his siblings used to live down at the Shore during the summers when they were growing up. Naturally, when they all came of age, they hit the bar scene.  Supposedly they were kicked out on more than one occasion. When my cousins and I heard this, we decided the next generation of Bonners had to live up to our name and take on Belmar.

My cousin and I met a couple of her friends at Connelly Station in Belmar just before 9pm. Connelly Station is a fairly nice bar and restaurant which attracts an older crowd. The standard Irish brews were on tap, in addition to Miller Lite and Bud. The Giants/Jets game was featured on two TVs, the Yankees game on one, and the US women’s soccer team was on the small TV in the corner. After catching up on the family gossip, I eagerly anticipated the first notes of the band setting up. And boy was I rewarded. The first song was U2’s “With or Without You” which segued into “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” A U2 cover band?! I nearly peed myself while texting the Almost East Coast Correspondent. Unfortunately my hopes were dashed when the band featured Journey next. Well, and the flat notes from Mr. Wannabe Bono. The girls decided we should head off to 507, another bar which had a both a band and DJ.

The 507 had a long line in front. Normally I skip bars with lines. Frankly, I don’t want to wait for my alcohol. Plus, I’m probably wary that the bouncer will not let me in for a petty reason like not wearing heels. I’d rather not embarrass myself or my friends with a heated discussion on whether the ridiculous pain of my feet is worth the price of being cute and two inches taller. I accepted the fact that I’m short a long time ago. Anyway, we get into the bar after fifteen minutes and head for the back room. Lots of Long Island guys and Jersey girls. Tight shirts, slicked back hair, and goatees on the guys, and make-up, dyed blonde hair, and lots of jewelry on the girls. Everyone has a great, thick accent, and no one uses sun block. My cousin ordered shots of Jameson and the “not quite 30 years old” Jersey girls at the bar marveled at our choice. They asked if we’re Italian. I don’t think they were familiar with Jameson. They were drinking colorful cocktails out of plastic cups. The band at 507 played mostly Bruce and Bon Jovi. Mr. Long Island named each song for me and was shocked that I didn’t know all the words. We wrapped up the evening by heading to Bar A, but realized it was 2AM—closing time.

This afternoon my cousin and I headed to the beach—a mere three blocks from her house. The waves threw me around a bit, but I consider the salt water I swallowed a nice dose of Jersey to take back to the Midwest.

Next up: the Retirement Community Report. Admit it—you can’t wait.

No, my title is not infringing on the Paris Hilton trademarked phrase. I don’t mean that Prague is “hot,” as in trendy or hip. I mean it’s literally very hot here right now. The heat somehow combines humidity with a piercing quality that I’ve never experienced before.

As some of you may or may not know, I’m in the Czech Republic for two weeks, on a writing program called, helpfully, “The Prague Summer Program.” I’m living in one of the dorms of Charles University, also home to several other summer programs. This meant that when I arrived and announced cheerfully at reception that I was with “The Prague Summer Program” the nice man at reception asked me, “Which one?” There were a few nasty moments when it seemed like the guy had no idea how to help me, since — as I’m a late arrival — everyone else was already checked in, and the guy had no idea where my key, info, etc. was. However, with a little poking around, he soon discovered a big envelope with my name on it in all caps, and everything was well.

I’m never sure of the best way to write about traveling. Do I talk at length about cultural and historical stuff? (Potentially dull). Do I talk at length about the mundane details of my everyday travel life? (Potentially very dull). Do I wax witty about cultural differences? (Not sure I have the savvy or the distance to do that right now). Do I talk about the writing program itself? (Potential lawsuits).

So I thought, a la my title, about writing the whole blog post in the voice of Paris Hilton:

“Hey guys! So I’m in Prague. Prague is a lot like Disneyland. There are lots of pretty buildings, like Sleeping Beauty’s castle in Disneyland, and streets with cobbly stuff (kind of bitch to walk on in heels, to tell you the truth), and lots of places to buy sweaters and cameras and stuff. Plus, when you arrive, you trade your real money for fake money that is all sorts of weird colors and you use your fake money to buy stuff. Except like one real dollar is worth like twenty fake Prague dollars! So it makes everything seem really expensive, like no way I’m paying 200 dollars for a weird looking sausage! But then you remember that it’s all just for fun.”

But then I realized that would be really obnoxious.

Prague is really beautiful. I mean, stupidly so. It’s quite ridiculous. You wander around going, “Really? Really?” Of course, my first observation, as a mostly-American, is how OLD everything is, because we live in a place where it’s like “Observe the tract housing on your left from 1978!” I’ve traveled the most in the UK, and there it’s more like “So, we built a building here like a really long time ago, like, in the middle ages? But then it burned down. So we built another one. And then it burned down. And then….well, then there was WWII, and it got bombed. So THIS building has only been here since 1958, but there has BEEN a building here for a long time WE SWEAR!” And in Scotland, it’s more like, “Well, there WAS a castle here in the middle ages. But….then the English tried to invade…so we blew it up (bloody English). And then we rebuilt it, and the English tried to invade again, so we….kind of blew it up again (couldn’t let the bloody English get it, right?). And then we rebuilt it, and then the English invaded, and THEY blew it up….and well, this castle has actually only been here since 1860 and was never REALLY used as a castle….but, you get the general idea.”

Not that there aren’t beautiful old buildings all over England, Scotland, and all the rest of Western Europe. But Prague’s like “Oh yeah? You’re so proud of your ONE medieval church, eh? You’re got a few Baroque buildings, huh? Yeah, that’s sweet, really. No, it’s nice. Well, pretty much every building here is like medieval or baroque. And there are castles….yeah, we know. And churches! Hoo, boy. Have we got those. Yeah….pretty much every building here is lovely and, like, really old. I know! Weird, huh, since you guys like blew up most of yours? And especially impressive considering our tumultous history?”

Apparently, I can only blog in imaginary voices. In my defense, I’m still a little jet-lagged, and writing in a computer lab where I keep having to turn the keyboard back to English, so I don’t suddenly start typing ěščřžýěšč

That’s the other thing, something I’m mildly embarassed by. My guidebook helpfully informed me that “Czech is pronounced exactly as its spelled! It’s easy!” But off the top of your head, do YOU know how to pronounce, say, První nádvř? Yeah. Even after I laboriously learn how to pronounce something, it promptly departs my head, leading me to say things like, “You get off at the metro station — you know, the one with all the d’s and j’s in it?” Even worse, most people here speak a little English, which, while massively helpful, makes me feel lazy and quite stupid. Not to mention guilty. Though, as a corpse in a George Saunders story says, “English is the lingua franca of the globe.”

Sorry for the rambling. I’ll aim for something more informative next time. Also, you all should email me and stuff.