this evening, as my husband recanted the history of the vernal equinox, i lamented why i didn't marry a stupid man, because, man, i feel stupid most of the time around him. though, we have a lot in common and i feel on most days, we have a pretty good thing going on here. our mutual commonality is also shared in the most holy of all celebrations, st. patrick's day. i'm glad we have a very base communication when it comes to such celebrations, because i don't feel i could stay married to a man that didn't see the relevance to such holy celebrations. yeah, that's fine and all that you know the root of vernal in the latin language but do you know who the hell st. patrick is? yes, you are sooo right! he was the maker of green beer and little leprechauns, mister! that's all you need to know in my book. do you really think i think this? well, i won't clue you in on what i really think other than, i truly love st. patrick's day. i love this holiday more than christmas! okay, so we are ALL irish on this day, but i'm soo irish with a mixture of scottish that my love of this day is not realistic and this love in turn would make any alcoholic cringe with the reality of my undying love.
with this love of the holiday, coupled with having children, the realization of being a parent of two has really put a damper on my celebrating capabilities, not that i'm complaining AGAIN about being a parent. i lament of the days of celebrating starting at 8am with green mimosas and casseroles to only outlast the fittest of the fittest with ONE MORE DRINK 15 hours later. you think i kid? than you really don't know me. partying before a wedding in st. louis to only realize, we totally missed the ceremony because the missourians know how to throw a st. patrick's day party! to call in sick when i was supposed to be at work in thirty minutes because the wheel of green beer was spinning in my favor. and no, i didn't even get fired. the luck of the irish was on my side that year.
this brings me to this year's celebration. with kids in tow and along with another a couple with the same celebrating limitations, we headed downtown to celebrate amongst all the other irish people that seemingly looked more german and hispanic than i remember leprechauns should look.
we celebrated with ass-less chapped hoochies...
and with britney spears' grandmother who happens to moonlight as a stripper.
wild-eyed, crazy mary o'malley decided her gift of painting three leaved clovers on unsuspecting children with her purse on her shoulder and a mutton sandwich in the other hand was in attendance. her incoherent babble complete with the ability to lick her paintbrush before IV'ing her cooties onto the little children's cheeks gave me reason to down one more beer before thoughts of having to rush my kidlets to the ER for an antidote for scabies.
celia wishing and praying for her small little happy place during the surgery.
unimpressed by the results, especially after mary licked her palm and slammed fairy dust on her check with such drunken force.
ruby inspecting the unhandy work while silently musing in her head, "you are all idiots for paying $4 a head to an obvious crack-head!"
rich sustaining a neck injury while totally not enjoying the crappy parade full of llama's and hell's angels.
have i ever mentioned i HATE parades! i mean HATE them! i've hated them since i was five and i'll go on forever hating them until my cold dead body is underground. there better not be a parade in celebration of my death or carnations and daisies on my grave. if so, i'll haunt each and every person responsible for such malarkey!
the kids trying to amuse themselves with thoughts of plagues, posies and ashes while their parents scavenge booths for more green beer.
a pic of our friends that we will have to threaten bodily harm to not leave us when they decide they've finally had enough okie time and move onto greener at least more fun pastures. not without us, you won't!!
i think this says it all about our day.
we went home for a cat nap and resumed with green red bull and vodka. beer sooo bloats me!
i settled down for the evening in my new favorite pants that replaced my long lost loved ones.
i have major happy feelings when wearing these pants and when momma is happy, everyone in the gorillabuns household is happy too.
Crazy Mary O' Malley shall now haunt my dreams. I do, however, adore your pants. ;
Posted by: metalia | 20 March 2007 at 07:55 PM
Green Red Bull? This is possible?
All we did was barge in on some friends and drank their champagne. Then I cooked pasta. It was good.
Posted by: Alison | 20 March 2007 at 11:42 PM
Green Red Bull? This is possible?
All we did was barge in on some friends and drank their champagne. Then I cooked pasta. It was good.
Posted by: Alison | 20 March 2007 at 11:42 PM
Oh crap, how'd that happen? Maybe I should turn on a light. You know, so I can actually SEE the keyboard.
Posted by: Alison | 20 March 2007 at 11:43 PM
those pants are so cute!
i abhor parades. seriously. the face painting lady scares me.
Posted by: Sizzle | 21 March 2007 at 12:33 AM
Those are indeed happy, happy pants! As happy as Mary is cra-zay!
Posted by: lizgwiz | 21 March 2007 at 10:56 AM
I forgot it was St. Patrick's Day, believe it or not! Of course, I always do.
You are hilarious.
Those pants rock.
:)
Posted by: paisley | 21 March 2007 at 12:40 PM
I think that you are funny...you make me laugh!
Posted by: Dalania | 21 March 2007 at 02:28 PM
Ha! Love the pants - and Green Red Bull & Vodka!
I spent St. Patrick's Day as the only straight woman at a party full o' lesbians. Fascinating!
Posted by: guinness girl | 21 March 2007 at 03:20 PM
Ditto everyone.
The pictures speak volumes, but the pairing of biting commentary left me with tears in my eyes.
Dang those girls are cute! Their faces are so expressive.
Posted by: LVGurl | 21 March 2007 at 11:30 PM
The pants are cool. I love 'em.
But WHY do you hate parades... truly, I really want to know. There must be a story behind this. :)
Posted by: Karen | 22 March 2007 at 09:32 AM