However. There are at least 34590870 little girls named Catie in this country. I know: I've heard their names being called out. Why is it that Irish adults hear my name is Catie and immediately start calling me Cathy? Mostly if they read it they say Cat-ee, if they hear it they say Cathy. Whyyyy? It's maddening. I am not especially keen on being called Cate, but I've learned to introduce myself as Cate because I *hate* being called Cathy. And in Ireland "Kit" is a boy's name, so probably that would bewilder them even more. Sigh. Anyway, as you might have guessed by now, everyone today called me Cathy (except, I think, the Canadian guy, but I'm not sure he called me by name at all). Nrgh. But overlooking the fact that nobody got my name right, it was a lot of fun. :)
After dat Ted and I went out for lunch, where I had really excellent pasta, cooked just perfectly, and Ted had a spicy something or other that wasn't really spicy but was quite tasty anyway. Ted then went forth to get his provisional lisence, which he now has, and I went forth to ask the people at the fair trade shop (yes, the one on French Church Street) if they'd like me to come in and volunteer. They, in fact, asked what day I could come in, and were it not for the fact that the woman in charge eventually wanted my phone number, I'm not sure they'd have ever so much as asked my name. :) So I'm going in next Wednesday morning. Hopefully that will work out in a reasonably fun way.
Oh. I thought I'd posted this. Apparently I hadn't. o.o
miles to Dunharrow: 104