Ah St. Patrick's Day, when hordes of Irish, American-Irish, I Swear There Are Irish Ancestors Somewhere in There, and Okay I Just Like Clovers and  Beer parade their pride.  Myself, I have my own category as in Persuaded Herself And Everyone Around Her That Having Some Irish Ancestors Deep in the Past Qualifies As Being Half Irish.  Tonight I will celebrate in style with a Guiness down at the local pub along with a few hundred of my good Irish buddies.

Okay, so the closest I'm getting to a party tonight is nursing my broken limbs and watching "Goodnight and Good Luck."  I am nursing my entire bruised anatomy because I suffer delusions of grandeur and have recently taken to strapping myself to a snowboard I swear is amused by the fact that I have two speeds; Falling Down and On My Ass.  Well in the spirit of things I ate sheperd's pie for lunch outside in the freezing cold with it snowing around my ears.  If that doesn't get you in the mood for Ireland, I don't know what will!

In conclusion: snow is pretty, green is good, and my sister is definately sleeping on the couch.  She kicks. 


ETA:  What did St. Patrick do anyway?  Yeah, sure, he lured the "snakes" out of Ireland, what a trip.  My best guess?  Religion and converts and "NO MORE POTATOES- they are devilish food!" and subsequent head on a pike.