Everybody's Irish on St. Patrick's Day!

It has recently come to my attention that I haven't written in my blog for 3 weeks. There are really only two reasons for that:
1.) Work consumes my life.
2.) Nothing exciting has happened to me in the past 3 weeks that's worth writing about…


...until now.

St. Patty's Day in Boston is ALWAYS worth writing about.


And, with my cousin in a fabulous Irish band, I really had no excuse not to party.
(Except – of course – for that minor detail of me not quite being 21 yet…)

So party I did.


What a fantastic night! Hell – what a fantastic day. I woke up happy (my dad announced at our wine-filled sushi dinner Thursday night that he got a job!), had a lovely lunch with my boss (who’s fabulous) at a nice French restaurant, and worked my ass off on a number of really interesting projects all day. But six o’clock came around, I knew I had other places to be.

The night started with a beer at bar by Alex’s work. He had been hanging out with his friend and her colleagues, and I made the trek to Cambridge despite the frigid March weather. There were way too many clowns downtown to handle – all day long echoes of laughter, screams and general drunkenness crept into the offices of work. Yes, in Boston people start celebrating St. Patrick’s Day at midnight the evening before. Hell, there was a cover charge at all the local pubs at 8:00 this morning. Welcome to the most Irish town in the nation…

Regardless, we didn’t stay long in Kendall Square. The Old Brigade was playing at 8:00 at a bar near the Davis T-Stop, and that’s where we wanted to be. So we snuck into the back door of Olde Magoun’s Saloon (yes – I am a sketchball, I know… and just wait – it gets better) and prepared for a fun night out.


Fun I had. My friend from forever – one Jonathon Trotta – and one of Alex’s “brothers” whom I adore – Mr. Jon Dias – showed up to enhance the incredible evening.


My only girl cousin was there, and we caught up talking about big dreams and such.


And it was an Irish bar on St. Patty’s day. And I love Danny – my cousin in the band- and I think the Old Brigade plays wonderful Irish music. God, it was so fun!


The ride home was the real adventure of the evening. Somehow, at the bar, I acquired a frog and a CD and drank far too may drinks. Somewhere in Upton (about 15 minutes from home) I realized there was no way I could wait until we arrived to use the facilities. I wasn’t alone – Jon (Alex’s frat-brother) also needed to pee…. But these things are way easier for men. Fortunately, Alex found us a construction site equipped with a porter potty (yuck!) that I quickly made use of. Unfortunately, the cop driving by didn’t love that.

He pulled us over. Blue lights flashin, sirens on, Upton’s finest approached the window of the ancient Ford Probe with a vengeance. (Let’s be honest, he was clearly bored and had nothing better to do.) But Alex was a good boy and had stopped drinking a long time ago, nor was he really speeding (5 miles over is not nearly enough to care!). The cop was more interested the drunk girl in the back seat (that’d be me). I need to learn how to keep my mouth shut. He pissed me off, I talked back, and he suddenly wanted to know how sober I was and when my birthday was (6-18-83 man!), and why I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt (which was broken)… The cop took his sweet ass time, but when realized every aspect of our life was within in the law (we had a designated driver, everyone was of legal drinking age – or pretending to be, and the license and registration was all in order), he let us go with naught but a written warning. Personally, I don’t think we even deserved that, but – as the drunk girl in the backseat – I was instructed not to argue.

Bright and early the next morning, I look forward to some delicious homemade French toast and afternoon with the grandparents.

I love my life.

As for now, The world may or may not still be spinning… so I’m going to curl up with Tequila and try to sleep for a few more hours…

Alex and his Jons


Early in th evening...

...sometime later...

We're not really sure who this woman was... nor are we sure that her jacket wasn't still alive. All we know is that she came in with a short skirt, high heels and man whom she followed around all night. It's quite possible she was one to "provide services for money"...