It's awfully early here on the west coast, so evenfor the Irish who know how to party as well as or better than anyone else, most are still sleeping off last night's pre-party, so not much is going on yet. i was doing a bit of studying because I don't nticipate feeling all that much like it tomorrow or even Monday.
Jared and I decided to take in Matthew's baseball game yesterday since why let something like baseball interfere with Saint P:atrick's Day. my mom has a big bash planned, wich will start as early as noon. She has relatives traveling here from all over the state, so it's senseless form them to drive hours to get here, spend a couple of hour, and drive home. A few people have made arrangements to sleep over, but many must work tomorrow. Don't worry in the eventthat you'll be traveling on california's highways, or don't worry about my mother's drunken revelers, anyway, as all have designated drivers.
my mom's bes friend teaches preschool. It's a specail sort of preschool for kids who qualify for any special services. she has children who merely have lisps, and she'll teach them to read before they even go off to knindergarten. she also has severely autistic children and those with othere severe and multiple disabilities. It's a complete spectrum in terms of range of ability. Anyway, she spent Friday afternoon after school getting her classroom ready to look as though the leprechauns came in and trashed the room. she's been telling them all month about how things like this used to happen, but how it should probably be OK now because of the school's really sophisticated alarms that won't allow anyone into the buildings after hours. she told them that leprechauns are not mean or bad, just silly and fulll of mischief, but she told them it's a pretty safe bet that nothing will happen this year.
She's going to keep the door locked until everyone is there unless someone is significantly late. Then tey'll open the door to find green leprechaun footprints all over the place, toys thrown all over the floor silly little scribbly drawings on the white board, thr alphabet letters out of sequence, children's artwork turned upside down, and green urine (unflushed) in the toilet. she siad it's one of her favorite days of the year, and that it's oneof the few pre-school memories many of the preschoolers arry with them many years later.
When I was banned from gymnastics after my rooftop gymnastics stunt, my parents decided I needed an alternate activity, so I began Irish dancing. .I took to it quite easily and after a couple of years went into the competitive circuit. This could only go on for so long, as my parents weren't willing to give up about half of all weekends to hop on planes and travel to competitions all over the place, and I wasn't really even ionto it enough to justify the expenditure either in time or in cash, but it was fun while it lasted, It gave me a skill I maintain to this day to some degree and may use again -- although probably in the couples-style set dancing rather than solo. It created travel opportunities, though most of what we saw of the places we visited was through the windows of the various rental cars between hotels, convention centers, and airports, On the one competition that took placein Ireland, we made a bit more of a vacation of it, as I have realtives living in Ireland. We didn't do tons of touristy stuff on the trip because we'd been to Ireland once before as a family (my mom lived in Ireland for a couple of years as a child) and had done more of the touristy stuff that time, but we did spend time there with family and had tons of fun.
Anyway, when my final costumes were sewn, my mom, kowing the end was near, had liberal fabric left in the hems so that the hems could be let cown and I could use the costumes for a few more years. I've grown up more than I've grown out, so four costumes still fit. If I really cared that much, as I grow fuller-figured, I could always have another costume or two made. I'm in no hurry to part with my hard-earned cash, but someday it might be a worthwhile expenditure
On Saint Patrick's Day, I usually put on one of my costumes and even the curly wig that goes with it (curly wigs are a required part of the competitive Irish dance costume for girls) and do a couple of dances to mke my mom and her siblings happy. I don't mind. I'm not really the shrinking violet type, anyway, and am not terribly uncomfortable with people watching me dance. It's weird, as there are times when I want to be inviible and I think if they're looking at me, it's because they know about the things that has happened to me or because I'm skinny and unattractive, but at other times, I'm comfortable with attention. Maybe my dad is right and I really am bi-polar, even to the point of that disassociateve identity disorder that used to be called mutiple persoanality disorder, a la Sybil or The Three Faces of Eve, along with numerous soap opera characters who've suffered the same malady. Then again, maybe I'm an ordinary adolescent who can't make up her mind as to whether or not she wants anyone looking at her.
So tomorrow, which is technically today, I'll down at least one Guinness, but probably not more as I have class the next day and cannot afford to be hung over. I'm allowed to have as many friends over as I'd like, but I've been told that only those who can legally drink will be allowed to do so, and that someone will be watching to ensure that such is the case. I'm confident in my ability to spirit away a few spirits for the age-challenged amng us, but not enough that anyone under 21 will be able to get roaring drunk. C'est la vie. That's what other parties are for. My party (which is actually mymom's party) can be the party before the real party for those who intend to do some serious imbibing.
Top o' the morning to ya!
Paul, can I hear you yet?