Where the fook am I?

So in case you were wondering, it turns out they do have shampoo in Ireland...and it's exactly the same as it is in America.
And other than every sign being written in both Irish and English, so are a lot of other things.
I think I didn't quite know what to expect from Ireland (another planet, maybe), having never been out of my own country before, but it's more similar than I imagined. On the bus ride from the airport to the campus while I was struck by these similarities (Dublin's massive Ikea, for example), I had to remind myself that I couldn't possibly have expected Ireland to have blue trees and purple grass, so what was the big deal? Ikea is, after all, a European company, so why the hell is it a surprise to find it in Ireland?
I also couldn't possibly have expected Dublin to be filled with thatched roofs and sheep and drunk old men in wool jumpers. This is 21st century Europe, the home base of swank and trends, not 17th century Europe (the home base of plague and pestilence). So the fact that downtown Dublin is so metropolitan really shouldn't come as a surprise. But somehow it does.
Which leads me to yet another unplanned revelation: Am I just another ignorant American (again), hell-bent on defining the unexplored world by common stereotypes and preconceived notions? Yes, yes I am.
After a frozen rooftop bus tour of the city where my camera was nearly frozen to my hands, I have decided to embrace my tourist status full-on. Evidently an Irish person can spot an American from at least twenty paces; that plus the accent means I won't be blending in any time soon. Instead of worrying about being conspicuous, I plan to enjoy the time I have here, even if it means being a big neon sign of Americana.