Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts

Thursday, November 27, 2008

A short break for being earnest..

I am sometimes reluctant to be thankful, or to at least to say it out loud. When things are less than wonderful in my life, my pessimistic nature prevents me from realizing how good I really have it in the grand scheme of things. And when things are going well I don’t want to tempt fate, or look like at fool when it all goes south.

But this Thanksgiving, at this moment, I’m thankful.

Aside though from all the things that I have to be thankful for, I’m also thankful for the insight that I’ve started to gain this past year. The realization and acceptance that things don’t last, the good, the bad, the boring in-betweens— none of it will be here for very long.
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While I’ve always been a master of change, I’ve also always craved permanence. But this year, for no one particular reason I’ve started to realize and become OK with the fact that life isn’t made of forevers, it’s made of “for a little whiles.” That can suck, sure, but it can also be pretty awesome and this year, in my small life, it hasn’t been ½ bad.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Do you have a little irish in you? Would you like some?


Like any good natured person with an inclination to drink and a hereditary past of alcoholism, I enjoy St. Patrick’s Day.


So does New York City, and all the overly green clad peeps therein. I don’t mind their drunken staggering at all, and green is one of the best colors so seeing loads of green clad people just makes me feel like the whole city decided to dress up for me. Cheers, New York.


And Guinness. Guinness is great. That’s right I am a tiny girl who loves a thick near black beer preferred mainly by haggard old potato farmers and soccer fans.


Yep, this is a great holiday to be sure, any holiday centered about drinking as early and often as possible, wearing a lot of one particular color, and acting like a jerk is great. Other examples: Maris Grais, and the Queen’s Birthday in Amsterdam. Both brilliant.


Here is my problem with this joyous day.

Why do people pretend to be Irish? How is that socially acceptable? On Kwanza people don’t run around pretending to African. On Yon Kipper people don’t say “kiss me I’m a Jew!” Also, suddenly every bar in the city is an Irish Pub- really? Just because you serve Guinness, doesn’t change the fact that Bud Light is on tap right next to it…