Geanealogy of Robyn

My family returned from Mexico at 1 am on Saturday. I didn't know how much I miss talking to my sisters until they were out of the country for eight days. Yesterday I called Caitlyn and she blew me off pretty quickly (her reasoning was that she had to get ready for a party) then I talked to Laura for about half an hour (which is sort of strange, only because there are usually long pauses of silence in our phone conversations) and she decided she should call her friend. I guess I could have called my friends, but everyone except for Janelle is weird to talk to on the phone. I'm better at talking to people in person than on the phone, but that is only for family and friends. I'm very shy, even with the people I've gone to school with all my life.
We've decided that after college and when I've saved up enough money, Caitlyn, Laura and I are going to go to Ireland (aparently on my dime). I chose Ireland because it would be nice to see my "motherland." I wish I knew more about my culture, but I am a third generation Canadian (my great grandmother on my mother's side was born in Ireland) on my mother's side, and a couple more generations more from my father's side, and I sort of feel like I have no culture.
My grandmother didn't pass any traditions down to my mother (maybe because of her mother, or someone farther up the line) and I haven't lived with my father since I was five so I am left without that which others hold close. I barely know anything about my family history, which doesn't really stir up any sadness, but it would be nice to know.
I do, however, like to promote my Irish heritage. I know very little about my father's mother (and also my mother's father, but that is another story) and his father, for that matter, maybe because my childhood has been one that is different from all my friends, and seemingly, every other person I know. I know my father's mother had to stop going to school at grade 4 to take care of her mother and siblings and that she was treated badly by her step father and left with nothing upon his death. She got pregnant before she met my grandfather and the father of my first uncle (uncle Harvey, who I never got to know: his death preceded my birth) left her alone. My grandfather married her, though he was over twenty years older than she was. Together, they had four boys; Bill, Ed, Jim and last (and unfortunately, my father) John.
My mother's side story goes as follows.
Tess (Theresa, actually, my great-grandmother and the namesake for my own mother) was born in Ireland (I know not where) and once the second world war broke out, moved to England and met my great-grandfather, Stu (he was a Canadian soldier- how romantic). They moved back to Canada, married and had four children: Bernadette (my grandmother), Doug, Patrick, and Maureen. My grandmother met my grandfather (whom I have only met a handful of times), got married, had my mother, Theresa, my uncles, Sean and Michael then divorced. My mom met my dad, married, had my two brothers, two sisters and I, then divorced. Now here I am. This is my family history to the best of my knowledge, but if I forgot one of my grandmother's brothers (which I have a feeling I did), I can't be held responsible because of never being told and never asking. I only know what I do about my mother's side is because I only remember living with my mother (the memories of our whole family living on the farm in central Alberta are few and far between) and though projects of family trees have come up through the years, mine were usually incomplete on my father's side and vague on my mother's.
Oh well.
My real point is that someday I want to travel to Ireland. I want to go to a speakeasy and walk through an ancient castle. I love being Irish!