The only green I wore yesterday was my coat. I forgot it was St. Patrick’s Day until I began receiving text messages from friends who love the day.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy St. Patrick’s Day. I had a good one in 2005 with Phil and Varv in Newport Beach, California. Last year I was working.

I worked yesterday, too, but went out with Martin after work to an Irish Pub. I was afraid it would be dangerous to visit a pub, I was afraid my fondness for the Irish flavors of Guinness and Jameson Whiskey would conquer me. And Irish Car Bombs? Yeah, those too.

I had a Coca-Cola, talked with Martin, and watched the strange collision of humans becoming inebriated. One couple sat quietly on a bench in the corner looking displeased to be there, but showing no signs of leaving. A group of four girls bunched together towards a wall shielding themselves from interaction with anyone. A girl bumped into me and apologized while blaming her friend for making her dance their way through the crowd.

The soda was good and it felt good not to go straight home after work. I didn’t talk to anyone other than Martin, but going out of my normal realm helped me to feel more social.

Categories: Life
Tags: alcohol, Coke, Martin, Phil, St. Patrick's Day, The Varv

Today’s been swell. I woke up at some point. I called my fam and talked to mom and Isaac. Oh, and I got a hair cut. I have less hair now and it’s great. Summer style and such.

Bean dip rocks. Vanilla Coke, too. Props to Tracy for the hair and the dip. Sorry ’bout the hairy mess.

I chilled a bit this afternoon and went over to Antelope Park after dinner to toss around a frisbee and sing songs with Ray and other people. After that, went to the courtyard behind Crescent Moon and caught a show by the David Potter Band. Decent stuff. Had a great time listening to the music and talking with people.

Newcomers Home is gonna be in Omaha next Friday. I’m planning to go with Heidi, Merry, and Jesse. It should be sweet. I know one of the band members from high school so I’m looking forward to seeing him again. I haven’t actually seen him since my high school graduation party so it’ll be cool to see him again.

The following is a true story:
High school girl (prom clothes, probably over): How old are you?
Me: 22.
High school girl: You’re my new best friend.
Me: No, I’m not.

Think about it for ten seconds and you’ll get what it’s about.

Done thinking? Still haven’t got it? She wanted alcohol. Duh. So anyway, it’s bed time. Good night.

Categories: Life
Tags: Coke, David Potter, Newcomers Home, Tracy