I'm sure many of you are fumbling for your snooze buttons, feeling the results of a job well done. The amount of booze for some of you was more than your normal share and for most I know, it was probably less as you made your way through a sea of what some of us call amateurs.
I've always gotten a kick out of St. Paddy's Day. It's the day when 6'4" 220 pound Irish lads are screaming at noon about their legendary drinking prowess and by 4:30, you're standing next to them in the toilet as they call you pussy for drinking a Coors Light, wiping vomit off of their shirt and acting oblivious to the fact they pissed themselves two hours ago. Slainte! Then there's the girls who seem to be so reserved at 3pm, when they walk in, prim and proper only to be the muse for some guy's friends, as they take pictures of him trying to get her pants off in a full bar. It's a lovely scene and one I've always had a little disdain for, but over the years, learned to sit back and enjoy. Believe me, last year, I made a very quiet fool of myself as I ordered a second dinner, unaware there was a half eaten dinner on a plate in front of me. That being said, it was a good, quiet and uneventful time. I think.
I'm feeling the intestinal effects of my least favorite meal known to mankind and that of course would be, corned beef and cabbage. I passed on the cabbage this year, because the thought of boiled cabbage while sober actual makes me retch as I type. I used as much mustard as not to make a scene and I ate just enough to fill myself without having to run for the, er Hills. Shepherd's Pie might have been a much better and far easier choice. Maybe next year.
As I think back over the years, I can't remember ever staying home on St. Paddy's Day. I'd have to go back to my pre-21 days to remember a specific time I wasn't out for the big day. I remember funny times, great times and some mediocre ones, but the one thing that was a constant, was friends. This was the first time in years I wasn't literally surrounded by friends. I can't lie. This morning, it hurts a little more than missing out on the Super Bowl festivities and New Year's Eve. Maybe it's because I've been in contact with some people lately that have made me miss it, but I really missed the camaraderie that comes from downing pints with people you like. Believe me, it's not the drunkenness, I've actually come to find a bit of disdain for that state, but it's that starting a day and having it escalate into a memory. Sometimes a very hazy one, but a memory nonetheless. I miss that.
Thursday is the NCAA tournament. Twelve hours of college hoops with 16 games on. Then again on Friday, then eight more on Saturday and Sunday. Everyone knows that this was my thing. So much has changed and the guilt from last year's fiasco, coupled by my current situation, has my emotions all over the map. That being said, I'm stuck in a town with no real place to watch, with nobody to watch it with, no pools to run, no brackets to check and even worse, not even CBS at home, because Direct TV sucks. Unfortunately for me, this sour taste can't be remedied by extra Crest, as the corn beef was. This one is here to stay. At least baseball is coming and that is something I can enjoy in a fashion I've grown accustomed; alone.
For the rest of you, especially those who will be out tomorrow for the games...isn't today the day when you really hope the road rises up to meet you?
I've always gotten a kick out of St. Paddy's Day. It's the day when 6'4" 220 pound Irish lads are screaming at noon about their legendary drinking prowess and by 4:30, you're standing next to them in the toilet as they call you pussy for drinking a Coors Light, wiping vomit off of their shirt and acting oblivious to the fact they pissed themselves two hours ago. Slainte! Then there's the girls who seem to be so reserved at 3pm, when they walk in, prim and proper only to be the muse for some guy's friends, as they take pictures of him trying to get her pants off in a full bar. It's a lovely scene and one I've always had a little disdain for, but over the years, learned to sit back and enjoy. Believe me, last year, I made a very quiet fool of myself as I ordered a second dinner, unaware there was a half eaten dinner on a plate in front of me. That being said, it was a good, quiet and uneventful time. I think.
I'm feeling the intestinal effects of my least favorite meal known to mankind and that of course would be, corned beef and cabbage. I passed on the cabbage this year, because the thought of boiled cabbage while sober actual makes me retch as I type. I used as much mustard as not to make a scene and I ate just enough to fill myself without having to run for the, er Hills. Shepherd's Pie might have been a much better and far easier choice. Maybe next year.
As I think back over the years, I can't remember ever staying home on St. Paddy's Day. I'd have to go back to my pre-21 days to remember a specific time I wasn't out for the big day. I remember funny times, great times and some mediocre ones, but the one thing that was a constant, was friends. This was the first time in years I wasn't literally surrounded by friends. I can't lie. This morning, it hurts a little more than missing out on the Super Bowl festivities and New Year's Eve. Maybe it's because I've been in contact with some people lately that have made me miss it, but I really missed the camaraderie that comes from downing pints with people you like. Believe me, it's not the drunkenness, I've actually come to find a bit of disdain for that state, but it's that starting a day and having it escalate into a memory. Sometimes a very hazy one, but a memory nonetheless. I miss that.
Thursday is the NCAA tournament. Twelve hours of college hoops with 16 games on. Then again on Friday, then eight more on Saturday and Sunday. Everyone knows that this was my thing. So much has changed and the guilt from last year's fiasco, coupled by my current situation, has my emotions all over the map. That being said, I'm stuck in a town with no real place to watch, with nobody to watch it with, no pools to run, no brackets to check and even worse, not even CBS at home, because Direct TV sucks. Unfortunately for me, this sour taste can't be remedied by extra Crest, as the corn beef was. This one is here to stay. At least baseball is coming and that is something I can enjoy in a fashion I've grown accustomed; alone.
For the rest of you, especially those who will be out tomorrow for the games...isn't today the day when you really hope the road rises up to meet you?
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