This is for New Jersey...

Most of the time between the last post and this one was taken up by class, going out with the international group (most of whom are part of the Erasmus European Exchange Program), and exploring Frankfurt. Therefore, I will ignore it almost completely and share with you instead, a night of brilliance.

March 18th
It doesn't matter where I am, but I have a headache...just leave me alone

St. Patrick's Day is not a holiday; it's a duty. As such, it cannot be ignored no matter where you are or what you have to do the next day. Keeping that in mind, the DIA (language course) kids, spurred on by our "get 'er done" attitude, decided to join us in our annual observance of this day of days.

My celebration began a little after 10PM. Milana and I joined my assigned German buddy (a studetn from Uni-Frankfurt coming to TCNJ in the fall) Georg and a few of his friends at O'Reilly's, a huge Irish bar in downtown Frankfurt.

I cannot describe to you the feelings that came over me as I entered this establishment. Drunken idiots (many of whom were sporting the tell-tale buzz cut of the Marines stationed nearby) wearing stupid hats, novelty glasses, LOUD English, the scent of stale beer, blaring karaoke of "Sweet Caroline", green rugby shirts on every reveler and volume, what volume--I WAS HOME! Nearly knocked over by the Americanity of it all, I simply joined in the fun- it was awesome. I had no idea there were so many Americans still in Frankfurt (which was the headquarters of the American quarter of Western Germany). After a few minutes, Milana looked at me and mouthed "we have GOT to come back here". Indeed.

The rest of the DIA kids arrived around midnight, along with a Californian they had picked up at the Anglo Irish in Sachsenhausen earlier that night. A few Kilkennys and two hours later, we were all feeling no pain. Until now I had joined in the fun but hadn't distinguished myself.

BUT

THEN

(in present tense for effect)

An unassuming young American strides purposefully up to the stage--fire in his eyes, grabs the microphone and yells "THIS IS FOR NEW JERSEY!".

As the first few notes of 'Living on a Prayer' burst forth from the speakers (what can i say?) I lost it. I am proud to say I recruited a few foot soldiers to the Bon Jovi army that night.

I instinctively stood on my chair and sang along (which in retrospect could have been embarrassing), but not so! By the first refrain, the whole bar had joined me whole-heartedly. I'm welling up now just thinking about it. Ireland, the US, and New Jersey came together for four minutes and 10 seconds; it was a supernova of reppin' (reptation?).

Wiped out by my performance, Milana and I headed out a side entrance, avoided the paparazzi and ducked into a waiting cab. I slept through class the next day, but I sure as hell had done my duty.