The city that REALLY never sleeps.

I like my beauty rest. I like it a lot. I have found here that the Irish don't value sleep as much as me, or maybe any one who doesn't live here. I don't know if I mentioned this, but the kids who live on campus here go home on the weekends. Thus, the week is where the partying happens. The students go home, to help mainly work on their farms in the countryside of Ireland. To be frank, campus is a ghost town starting Friday afternoon. As I sit here and type this, at 2:05pm on Thursday afternoon, I can already say that I have seen people start to file out to the bus stop with rolling suitcases on their way home, which could very well be up to two hours away. But I have not come to write here today about the students of UCD leaving on the weekends, I have come to comment on the incessant partying and utterly obnoxious antics that my fellow student and apartment residences part take in almost every night of the week. Now I love a good party just like everyone else, but I know there are also times to stay in, especially when I have class as early as 9am the next morning.

My mom has often commented on my nasally challenged dog, Madison's ability to snore so loud it prohibits my dad from actually falling asleep (which is an achievement for anyone). Madison's snoring has caused my dad to need a second pillow to hold over his ear in an effort to drown out the snoring and panting that comes from Madison's failing respiratory system. He calls this pillow, his suppressor. After living here, I would take Madison's snoring and panting, with no suppressor over the noisy sleeping conditions that I have to endure.

I have been here for about three weeks now, and I can say that the noise level has severely escalated each week of my stay. Last night was a new high that was reached; decibel wise. I didn't even lay my head to my pillow until about 1am because I had coffee with dinner so I was a bit wired. But at that time, there were people gallivanting around the quad screaming bloody murder in a language I know very well; drunken rambling. I can deal with the loud talking and even some running and screaming because I too, have been the person at the forefront of these activities at least one time or another in my life. But when the noise level gets progressively louder as the hours slip into the night, that's something I cannot deal with. I have class in the morning, as well as many other students do too. I did not even get to bed until 5am last night.

The apartment below me were the source of all my problems last night, and I assume will be for many more nights to come (at least until the weekend comes). The boys and girls on the first floor of my apartment didn't seem to be conscious of the time or the fact that maybe people were trying to sleep (this is where I realized people here don't value sleep during the week). They continued to blast Irish folk music while chanting the Irish national anthem as loud as possible until about 4:30 am. I think they played the same folk song on repeat the whole night, as it was playing so loud I could practically hear the words.

I was so furious at the 4am mark that I opened my lap top and wrote what I thought was a very intimidating email to the housing director of my apartment complex. It was fierce, the rage was permeating out of my screen with every word I typed. I think it worked too, because the woman emailed me back and asked to have a meeting with her about the whole situation.

Quiet down Ireland. Good night.