It was March 17, 1762 in New York City. I celebrated the very first St. Patrick's Day as Irish Soldiers paraded through the street honoring Saint Patrick, the patron Saint of Ireland. We all celebrated with music, dancing and lots of beers to remind ourselves of our history and religion! Éirinn go Brách!
Alright alright... you caught me. I wasn't there. But with the way I celebrate St. Patricks Day, I might as well have started the holiday myself. I mean really, who doesn't love a holiday where you can get inexcusably drunk and call it cultural? And besides, this is the ONE time of year I choose to be proud of the ridiculous four-leaf clover tattoo my irresponsible parents let me get when I was 16. Thanks a lot mom and dad.
I'm an Irish-Italian catholic. So whether it's wine, the blood of Christ, or an Irish car bomb, you can guarantee I will be drinking it. This year is especially exciting because I finally get to participate legally! Of course, given my back ground, i've always used the term "legally" very very loosely.
St. Patrick's Day always falls on finals week. I don't know if this is a blessing or a curse. A curse because it is begging you to be hungover through your finals (provided you're not lucky and didn't get your finals over with beforehand) and a blessing because for the love of God if I write one more paper or solve one more quartile-deviation I might drive a nail into my foot. St. Patrick's Day is the perfect outlet for your finals frustrations, and by the end of three months of hard work and endless shitty weather, it is always much needed. So here I am, on the eve of my winter quarter freedom, embarking on my first legal St. Patrick's Day. One more pesky math final and then please, someone pour me a Guinness and let's cheers to St. Patrick!
I will be back later in the week to tell stories of my first legal St. Patty's, so stay tuned! But you know what they say... when Irish eyes are smiling, they are usually up to something!
Sláinte everybody!
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