Rain, rain, go away, come again when I'm not hungover.
Well, folks, there are two things I have learned about the Irish life on this, the 18th of March. First, although this is the only day I've had the pleasure of experiencing it, Irish rain is as dreadfully cold and incessant as I was led to believe. Second, while the locals definitely know how to party it up in celebration of their patron saint, you should never, under any circumstance, allow these locals to talk you into "just one more". Maria and I spent the day at her mum's place and walked down to the parade in Arklow rather than risking the Dublin crowd. Of course, this included a pint in the "beer gardens", which is actually just what they call an outdoor patio behind a pub. We followed this with a bottle of wine with her family (yes, a bottle each) and chicken "kebabs". While I was expecting chicken on a stick, I was pleasantly surprised by a chicken pita with purple and green cabbage and a delicious semi-spicy sauce. Super tasty.
We headed out to a bar called D'Arcy McGees to start (4 pints in), and walked to a busier Sally O'Briens (I lost count of the pints we had there). Both of us were pretty locked, but we still managed to chat up some local firemen. Maybe that was just me. After we closed the bar down, we walked to the place with the kebabs--strictly because it was on the way home, of course. Poor Maria had to be up at 6 this morning to go to work. After how much we drank last night, I honestly don't know how she did it. Being unemployed sure has its perks the day after a bank holiday.
Don't worry, I'll be looking for a job tomorrow. And maybe a Tim Horton's. They're here somewhere. I'm pretty convinced that if I follow the rainbow, I will find it at the end since it's basically the pot of gold for me. I miss good coffee. *sigh*
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