Why are we here again?

So here's the deal, yo. I've been in Chicago for nearly 5 years. It's flown by, but I don't think I could've imagined I'd be here that long when I first made that one-way trek down I-94. Overall, its tough to complain. There's been some great times, some great opportunities and some great friends and experiences.

But somewhere along the way, some things got lost. In many ways, I just haven't felt like I've been myself. I'm not sure if it's just the cold harsh reality of the Big City(tm) or if there's been something else at play, but I've known for a while that it was not a situation I could stay in long term.

My heart has always been back in Michigan. Its not the games alone that have driven me to not miss a football Saturday in Ann Arbor in over 11 seasons, despite living out of state for 7 of them (I spent the '99 and '00 seasons driving back from THE Worst State Ever). Family. Old friends. Old college haunts. But also a certain setting and atmosphere that I miss. Quiet tree-lined streets. A charming downtown area that you can walk end-to-end on a nice summer night. Knowing that a 10 minute drive in any direction will bring fields and forests. And the intangible sense of 'Home'.

I've known for a while that the time for me to leave Chicago has been drawing near.

But there's been another calling too. A sense of adventure that beckons before settling. I never took the opportunity to study abroad during school, and by the time I graduated, my coffers were tapped and my credit cards maxed. Loans loomed. There were no four-month walks-in-the-world before starting Real Life(tm) for me. Enough time to pack and move, and a short trip to Baltimore were all I was allowed before beginning the grind of a career that has been blessedly sustaining, but rarely fulfilling.

But now I find myself at this crossroad... eight years out of school, yet with no permanent ties or responsibilities tethering me. Why not? Why not take off for one last crazy adventure of youthdom. So what if a bit of a receding hairline and inversely changing waistline betray the fact that I'm just beyond the apparent targeted age range for the Eagle Creek Grand Voyage 90L. The opportunity is still there for the taking.

I first travelled to Ireland my senior year in high school. It was an unthinkable trip at the time my dad told my brother and I that he was taking us there for my Uncle and Aunt's wedding. Skipping over the minor bit about how they ended up getting married at a courthouse in Toledo--several years later--the three of us went and had an amazing time.

Maybe it was a bit of a "First Love" syndrome. Having never been outside of North America prior to that trip, it was certainly an impressionable experience. Spending some time with my Aunt's family in Cork helped to cement it and make it even more real. But from that point on, I've had an irrational love of the country and its culture, and a longing to go back.

Two years ago, I did finally go back. It was fantastic to see my Aunt's entire family again and relive those memories. And to see the grey stone fences and outcroppings crossing and dotting the green hills. And to smell the comfortingly foul scent of burning peat.

After arriving in Cork and spending the first night catching up with the O'Gormans and with jetlag, I struck out by myself, braving the task of dodging sheep on narrow hairpin turns with sheer drop-offs just inches from the left-side passenger door, with cars, trucks and tour buses cruising past on the right. A few days later, my step sister Sarah would fly into Shannon to join me for the rest of the trek, but for 4 full days, I was on my own in a world of brilliant independent bliss.

Two weeks and nearly every corner of the country covered, I knew I had but scratched the surface. From the moment I returned to Chicago I started scheming on a way to get back--and for more than just a vacation.

Remember the part above about my love for Michigan? I have no desire to move to Ireland permanently. My life and 'home' are in the Great Lakes State, and I don't foresee that changing (though I acknowledge that life does always have a way of throwing us curveballs). But I've been away in Chicago for five years. What's one more in some place just a bit further.

Somewhere along the way, some things got lost. I'm not sure what, exactly, or where I'll find them. But Ireland seems as good a place to look as any.


This blog hopes to tell that story.