Dublin Airport

What would a travel blog be without an actual entry written in transit? Here it is, written on my 11-hour overnight layover in Dublin Airport.

1:50 AM Saturday, 7 August (Dublin time);
2:50 AM Saturday (Italy time);
8:50 PM Friday, 6 August (Eastern time)

Sitting in Dublin Airport in the middle of the night is interesting. It would appear that everyone awaiting a morning connection, like me, found their ways to the only part of the airport that didn't seem deserted: the food court (although everything but McDonald's is closed; I'm running on a mccappuccino and a "chicken legend with spicy salsa"-do we have chicken legends in the states?).
Many are alone; some are in small groups. Many are asleep; a few are reading, writing, or chatting with companions. I'm listening to music, having read a bit of La chimera, which I like very much but have to absorb in small amounts. I'm satisfied with my comprehension, but I read so slowly. But back, for a moment, to the night-owls of Dublin Airport. Most are young adults; families have gone to hostels, I presume, but the young are always game to run off little sleep, or to sleep if possible on a bench of couch, and I like this attitude. Still, there is a curious smattering of older adults. That spirit must live on in some people. I hope I still have it in my 40s, 50s, or 60s.
It being past 2 now, I have something between 6 and 8 hours until boarding. My boarding pass and Travelocity receipt appear to me to differ, but the departures board will clear up any confusion as it slowly, slowly updates in the coming hours (not many changes happen in the middle of the night). And as I'm not overly tired, I think I'll power through and watch the board stagnate for a bit. I need to pass through security and passport control again and to obtain a U.S. customs sheet, whatever that is. But at least I don't have to check in again, as I already have my boarding pass. I like airports. I don't even mind sitting here.
I'm thinking of continuing to blog, but I suppose I lack a topic that would draw even a meager handful of readers. If anyone has ideas or suggestions, I would gladly hear them. I also plan, since my internet access has been shoddy, at best, to continue to post on this blog some of the pictures I've taken that I like most. And if you, reader, are tired of this blog: don't read it, what are you still doing here, anyway?
Ciao, faithful friends and followers!
I wonder how long I'll have the gut reaction to respond to certain things in Italian? I said, "si', si'," earlier in response to a question about my chicken legend...

Post-script (5:00 AM Dublin time)
I figured out my Italian response instinct: it's based on the expectation I've developed that Italian was the guaranteed common language of everyone around me and my tendency to anticipate certain questions and prepare approximateanswers. Sitting with my cup of coffee, just now, I watched a woman walk toward the bar and wondered if she were going to ask if she could sit at the next seat; in my head, I found myself saying, "Si', certo! Prego!" This, despite everyone in Ireland speaking to me in English. I doubt if many in this airport right now even speak Italian.
Oh! But while I'm thinking of it, I spoke with an American family returning from a brief stay in Rome at Fiumicino, and upon hearing that I study Italian, they asked me what "prego" meant! Oh, prego. It means so many things.