Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Memories Of Another St. Patrick's Day

Yesterday I was overwhelmingly productive. I re-potted a plant, walked the dog, did laundry, paid the bills, cleaned the laundry room, watered the plants and tackled 2 years worth of un-filed paperwork. My office looks great! The flip side is that I am exhausted. I have a headache and swollen glands. My jaw aches. I was up until 2 in the morning and awake at 8:30. Coffee come find me! After a wet and chilly spring the weather is finally overwhelmingly and amazingly beautiful. We are going to a bar/restaurant across the street for a little afternoon drinkin' and St. Patty's day people watching after our appointment with the tax lady. We have not done anything like that in a long time. Should be fun but drinking makes me feel awful so I indulge very infrequently. St. Patty's day is a kind of warped and twisted anniversary for us...

Picture it...Northern California, 1999: It's funny to think back on who my husband and I were when we first started dating. We were those wild-crazy-party-kids at the #2 ranked party school in the country. Two kids with nothing to loose. It was the liberal '90's, oh it was such a different time! The Clinton years. Things were promiscuous, irresponsible, only focused on the now. The economy was building to its climax and our countries greatest obsession was who sucked the President off. Frivolous and superficial. There was no war, the twin towers still stood tall and proud and America had yet to feel the pain the greed and excess of the last 30 years would bring.

The traditions for St. Patty's day at the university we went to ran deep and proud, if more than a little dangerous. In California liquor cannot be served from 2 AM until 6AM. As legend has it, we were up and in line for the bar at 4AM so when they opened at 6 we could be the first ones in (there was a line, I swear!). By the time the sun comes up we were already way past drunk and carrying on quite enthusiastically. Sick by 10 AM, then back to the bars for another round. My husband and I had been friends for a few years (very long story for another time) and things were starting to heat up between us. So on my way home from the second go-round I stumbled upon him hanging out on his front lawn. I yelled at him, but told him I would not talk about anything serious unless we were both sober. A few hours later (well maybe more than a few), and a wee bit more sobriety, and over he comes to find out why I am so mad at him. That night we struck the spark that lit the embers that is the smoldering love we have today. See, good things can come from bad choices!

Thanks for joining,

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