My first St. Patrick's Day in Boston.
Where to begin? Lets just say, I'm thankful I survived. I just experienced the most intense 6 hours of sensory overload. ever.
We started the morning off with mimosas, french toast rollups, and an awesome spread of breakfast food. Not too shabby. I wanted to celebrate this glorious holiday the right way-- so I found the world's smallest beer mug (it's smaller than a shot glass, is green, has a handle, and is attached to a long string of skanky green mardi gras beads).
I took my Leprechaun mug and sipped on champagne while we got ready for the parade.
Every single person walking to the parade looked like they belonged on a f*cking box of Lucky Charms. You know those really bad decorations that elementary school teachers plaster all over their corkboards for every holiday? Think that, times a million. People were wearing green hats, green spandex, green EVERYTHING.
We stopped by this Irish family's house on the way, to spread some St Patty's Day cheer, and I kid you not-- there was a sign on the front door that read:
"Connolly House rules for St. Patty's Day: NO English allowed. None. Ever. except for Rockie of course. And don't try to pass as Irish just because you're White! If you happen to be Italian or some such sad thing as that, and this includes my in-laws, you must use the rear entrance and you must say your name is Pat, Sean, Mike or Tim. If you're Irish, you're welcome to step into the parlor!"
I sure hope those Irish folk weren't too weirded out by the Chinese lady walking into their parlor. They probably thought I was dropping off some drycleaning. Or providing some kind of special massagey service.
I digress- Back to the parade:
We stood by the barricades next to the cutest old grandmas wearing hand knitted sweaters and a lot of rowdy drunk Irish folk. There were a lot of firemen, policemen, politicians and bagpipers in the parade lineup. and a lot of Clydesdale horses. My favorite part was when a Chinese marching band came marching down the street- I was so excited and kept yelling "My people! My people are here!" They were rolling about 100 Chinks deep. They also had one of those dancing dragon things running behind them, but all of the guys holding up the dragon were middle aged creepy white dudes-- all of which DEFINITELY have a SERIOUS Asian fetish, I'm sure.
Another highlight of the parade was U1/2 the MIDGET BAND. they were jamming on their teeny little instruments, with their teeny tiny fingers, singing in their teeny falsetto voices. I only wished that they dressed the part and wore leprechaun hats. But I guess them little folk want to fit in this Big Ole' world. Silly oompas.
Oh, and the most logical part of the parade? The Star Wars float.
So after the parade was over, we went back to the house for food and drinks and set out for our long journey home. There were NO cabs in the area, so we decided to walk about a half mile to the T station. this is when i began to fear for my life. Not only did we witness at least 4 girls puking on the side of the road, guys were jumping on cars, pizza was ALL over the streets, and everyone was yelling "go fuck yourself!" to each other.
My favorite part was when a cracked out mother was pushing an old flimsybaby stroller, (circa 1987) stepped in front of moving traffic and started punching a gold Camry, yelling "I'm CROSSING THE STREET!" while the baby in the stroller just sat there, blinking.
Once we got past the riots, I thought we would be safe in the T. Boy was I wrong. A group of guys were shotgunning beers next to us, while another pair of guys were holding up their passed out friend. They kept slapping him awake and right when they got off, their friend puked EVERYWHERE. PANDEMONIUM!
And this is why I'm so happy to be home, safe and alive. and not Irish.
God Bless St. Patty's Day.
ask, and I'll send you the photo album.
