And no, I’m not referring to the seahorse that was supposed to win big in the 2004 hit movie Shark Tale, but I’m talking about St. Patrick’s Day.
Hi all, As I’m assuming all of you know, today is Saint Patrick’s Day. And although my Irish ancestors have cursed me with ivory skin that burns within the first 5 seconds of walking outdoors. However, they did give me a few good genes. Some of those being a love for potatoes (although I’m not quite sure who doesn’t love potatoes so…) and myself and all of my other pale skinned Irish friends have our own day to party and wear green, and pretend we’re leprechauns.
Today, I didn’t manage to leave my bed until 2:17pm, probably not due to the fact that I had no classes today, but the fact that looking outside I didn’t anyone donning green attire with face paint and stupid beads. I didn’t see people with ‘Kiss me I’m Irish” or “Kiss me I’m (pretending to be) Irish” shirts. It was a sight unlike any I’ve ever seen on this holiday.
Back home, St. Patrick’s Day is an enormous deal. The festivities begin the weekend before, as everyone and their mother heads downtown to see the Chicago River being dyed green, followed by a parade, and other events scattered across the city. For the entire week leading up to St. Patrick’s Day, everyone wears some sort of green to school (even my college friends who go to school in Chicago can attest to this statement and the ones to follow) so it not merely us high school folk) in preparation for the grand day.
When St. Patrick’s Day finally arrives, everyone goes all out. Kids show up to school decked out in festive shirts, green pants, shamrock socks and earrings, and of course not forgetting as many green beads that can fit around their necks. Some even dye their hair green for the day or sport green eye shadow, those who do are truly spirited and I give them high praises. Our school is always a sea of green and everyone, whether they are Irish or not, is Irish for the day and stoked about it.
After school, my friends and family head to a bar where my mom grew up where we are fed, and after food, music is played and Irish dancers litter the floor of the bar. They go on for hours until we finally make our way back to my grandma’s house for some of her famous corned beef and cabbage (obviously as a vegan I won’t be eating the corned beef but I do eat cabbage and potatoes).
The day is full of fun, laughter, joy, and just love for the Irish. I guess California didn’t get the memo about how great of a country Ireland is. So, alas, I will go back to eating potatoes in my dorm and subtly cheering on one of my favorite holidays (aka wearing olive-green shirt, green bracelets, and using my minty green mouthwash).