It’s been quite a journey to figure out who I am. On my birth cert, my name is Sarah Ann Ryan. I read Anne of Green Gables as a kid and began insisting on the E at the end of Ann – why wouldn’t you? My secondary school operated through the medium of the Irish language and insisted I use the full translation of both of my names – Sorcha Ní Riain. During university, I used the English version of both of my names Sarah Ryan for most things, and Sorcha Ní Riain for my Irish…

Some days I wish I believed in God. After hearing of the events in Connecticut today, this is one of those days. Today, faith would give me both someone to rail against, and would give me solace and comfort in the thought that those murdered had eternal souls, or a chance at rebirth.

It’s official. I’m finally a Dubliner (or whatever it is that real Dublin people call blow-ins from down the country). I’ve handed back the keys to my lovely apartment in Limerick and torn up as many Limerick roots as I can, or want to (Ancór and Limerick Roller Girls 4 LYFE!). I now live in The Smoke that is bigger than the other Smokes on this tiny island. I am cohabiting with Mr. Knows-I’m-Right and have even ventured to Portmarnock for a walk on the beach.

For the last week, I’ve been equally upset and outraged by the case of Savita Halappanavar, who died in Galway on October 28th after contracting septicaemia following a drawn-out miscarriage. The medical team waited until the foetal heart stopped beating before removing the foetus, even though risk of infection was extremely high. I’ve contacted my local TDs (only one had the decency to respond so far) and stood outside the Dáil with crowds of people twice. I also wrote a letter to…

So, you’ve just moved to Dublin and you’re trying to make sense of the public transport system. Don’t bother. The two Luas lines, the bus system and the Dart and rail systems are all pretty much independent of each other.