Is Today Over Yet?

I love Guinness.
I love Magner's Cider (FYI - it’s actually called Bulmer’s in Ireland).
I love Irish pubs (both the Irish AND the American kind).
I love an Irish accent.
I love that my grandparents are from Ireland.
I love that I still have extended family in Ireland.
I love fish ‘n chips and I even enjoy a boiled dinner once awhile.

I have traveled to Ireland and I love everything about it.

But I hate St. Patty’s Day. If New Year’s Eve is “amateur night out,” as my brother refers to it, then St. Patty’s Day is “amateur day out.”

If you’re ever interested in making a quick buck, then all you have to do is bet someone that I won’t be at the St. Patty’s parade in Southie. Because. I. Won’t. Ever. Be. There. Just like I won’t ever sick off on St. Patty’s Day, go to an Irish pub and drink my first Guinness at 8:00 a.m. And it’s not because of the alcohol (you don’t know me if that’s your theory), it’s because of the people that come out of the woodwork on this particular day.

Something else you won’t see me doing on St. Patty’s Day is wearing green. I do not like wearing green on St. Patty’s Day for the same reason I do not like wearing red on Valentine’s Day, orange and black on Halloween, red and green on Christmas and sports paraphernalia to sporting events. In fact, I purposely did not wear red to the BHS Super 8 game on Sunday. People ask me all the time why I am like this. They like to give me a hard time and tell me that I’m a loser, a hater, I’m no fun, I’m disrespectful, I have no holiday/team/school spirit. Frankly, I’m tired of explaining myself. It has nothing to do with any of those things, it’s just this strange thing that I do simply because I don’t like being told what to wear. It sounds childish, I know, but you can’t be mad at me for not wanting to follow the crowd. There’s nothing else I can say except that I’ve never been one for uniformity.

So, on this St. Patty’s Day, what do I plan to do?

Well, I woke up this morning and had to be reminded by the newscasters on channel 5 that it was, indeed, St. Patty’s Day. For some reason I thought the holiday had already passed. I remembered being in Boston on Sunday when it sure FELT like St. Patty’s Day with all the riff-raff from the parade walking around in their ridiculous costumes. So, as I sat watching TV and eating Frosted Mini Wheats this morning, I planned out a fairly regular day in my head: work, workout, pick up my car in Peabody, go to the post office, go home, eat dinner, watch some shows, go to bed.

It wasn’t long before Matt came down the stairs and I promptly made fun of him for donning a green shirt to work today. After finishing my breakfast, I turned to my own closet and began cursing my winter wardrobe and the 5-man rotation I’ve gotten myself into. I refused to even LOOK at the one green sweater that I own and I carefully selected a raspberry colored sweater and brown pants. I wasn’t all that pleased with the outfit, once I put it on, but I WAS pleased that it wasn’t green. And that was enough for me. I packed up my things and headed towards the door, grabbing one of my 8 winter coats along the way. I jumped into the passenger seat of Matt’s car and we began our carpool to work (my car is in the shop today).

As we listened to terrible morning shows and weaved through some traffic, Matt suddenly turned to me and said “Hey, you’re wearing green!” There was no need for me to look down. Using my peripheral vision, it was very easy for me to see that I was completely ensconced in green. Yes, the coat that I had absent-mindedly chosen to wear to work today was bright, kelly green. I think I managed an “ugh” and Matt responded with a “yessssss!” And thanks to my peripheral vision, I’m pretty sure I saw a smile and a fist pump as well.