Sláinte

I don't have any good St. Patrick's Day stories. This one time, it was St. Patrick's Day, and I got a shamrock shake. This other time, in high school, it was St. Patrick's Day, and a week later it came up in conversation with my friend Michelle and she was like, "Ohhh, so that's why the grocery store had all of those green cookies." This other time, it was St. Patrick's Day, and I was living in the dorms and working for hours and hours on a horrible chemistry lab, and then I finally took time out to go to the cafeteria and reward myself with a corned beef and cabbage dinner, and they were sold out. This other time, it was St. Patrick's Day, and I was working my third of four twelve-hour shifts at a hospital in Evanston, and I went down to the cafeteria there and they weren't sold out of corned beef and cabbage, and I had some. This other time, it was St. Patrick's Day last year, and Anya and I slow cooked some corned beef and cabbage and had friends over for dinner, and we also had a little themed cake, and during dessert Anya started alternating bites of cake with bites of leftover corned beef and totally grossed me out, although she didn't see anything odd about it.

They're all kind of like that.