I have one dream as far as international travel is concerned. If it takes me until my last breath, I will
stand on Irish soil. It calls to me, and it is the origin of my maternal ancestors. When I hear an Irish lilt, my head turns to the side, I stop everything I'm doing and I just listen. It's like an angel's song. And while I'm over there I might as well bop over to London and then head down to Italy. Just because and well why not?