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Happy Birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
i_heart_to____! Yay, you can almost go to bars!
I realized I don't have any green clothes, despite my obviously Irish surname. Ah, well, I'm not so much into the Americanization of the Irish experience anyway, nor much into Catholic dogma despite growing up Irish-Catholic- plus I don't want to be mistaken for a Garda supporter. ;) When I was in Ireland, they told me St. Pat's is more a religious holiday, so it's pretty quiet and lots of things are closed. Heh. I'll probably head down to Station 4 after work to get a pint with the Rollergirls, it's a short walk from work and home. I find it kind of funny that they're naming their kissing booth after the Blarney Stone. Most people don't realize that kissing the Blarney Stone isn't for good luck for seven years, it's to get the gift of blarney. It's the gift to effectively bullshit people. So... smooch a rollergirl and be gifted with bullshit? Hah. I like the kissing booths about as much as I like the penalty wheel (as in, I don't think every single MNRG event needs the thing), but whatever floats your boat. A lot of people think they're great and fun and everything, so that's cool, I just opt to not participate.
As I kissed the stone in the fall of '99, my time of Castle Blarney sanctioned effective bullshittery is almost over. As I tend to think of myself as someone who says what I mean and mean what I say, I'm not too sad to see that lapse. Yet, maybe I'll be able to go again one day and re-up. It is a heartachingly beautiful place, Ireland. I went with my Dad just before my parents' marriage blew up and things got strange. Especially for that, my memories of Ireland are likely to always be bittersweet, my sort of last hurrah with my proud Irish Dad, the last time things felt normal. Ireland is a place heavily steeped in a lot of tragic history, so somehow that seems strangely fitting. I'll drink a stout for my Dad today, and remember our last night in Dublin.
Slainte
i_heart_to____! Yay, you can almost go to bars!I realized I don't have any green clothes, despite my obviously Irish surname. Ah, well, I'm not so much into the Americanization of the Irish experience anyway, nor much into Catholic dogma despite growing up Irish-Catholic- plus I don't want to be mistaken for a Garda supporter. ;) When I was in Ireland, they told me St. Pat's is more a religious holiday, so it's pretty quiet and lots of things are closed. Heh. I'll probably head down to Station 4 after work to get a pint with the Rollergirls, it's a short walk from work and home. I find it kind of funny that they're naming their kissing booth after the Blarney Stone. Most people don't realize that kissing the Blarney Stone isn't for good luck for seven years, it's to get the gift of blarney. It's the gift to effectively bullshit people. So... smooch a rollergirl and be gifted with bullshit? Hah. I like the kissing booths about as much as I like the penalty wheel (as in, I don't think every single MNRG event needs the thing), but whatever floats your boat. A lot of people think they're great and fun and everything, so that's cool, I just opt to not participate.
As I kissed the stone in the fall of '99, my time of Castle Blarney sanctioned effective bullshittery is almost over. As I tend to think of myself as someone who says what I mean and mean what I say, I'm not too sad to see that lapse. Yet, maybe I'll be able to go again one day and re-up. It is a heartachingly beautiful place, Ireland. I went with my Dad just before my parents' marriage blew up and things got strange. Especially for that, my memories of Ireland are likely to always be bittersweet, my sort of last hurrah with my proud Irish Dad, the last time things felt normal. Ireland is a place heavily steeped in a lot of tragic history, so somehow that seems strangely fitting. I'll drink a stout for my Dad today, and remember our last night in Dublin.
Slainte
