St.Pat's...

I can't remember what I did last year. And I doubt it has anything to do with being drunk. I don't think I even went out last year. I was with "him". And I don't think "he" wanted to go out. Big surprise.

This year is going to be drenched in Guinness and Karaoke and friends... the friends for good company and make sure I keep all Lenten Promises. Shouldn't be too hard. Not as though I've got 'em lined up round the corner.

Sometimes, I rather like being alone. I've got no one to answer to. No one to worry about. And I never worry: Is today the day he leaves me? Cuz.. er...he did that already didn't he? I don't worry about things like "He didn't notice my hair or tell me I look pretty at all today. What does that mean?" or "I better not eat this because he thinks I'm gaining weight" (That's Jesus's job now.) or "I hope he's not mad at me today."

Anyway, today is a day for revelry in the midst of repentence. The Irish say "To hell with sadness, let's get tossed!"
So, I leave you with a few Irish Blessings:

"May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your face, the rains fall soft on your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand."

"May those that love us, love us. And those don't may God turn their hearts. And if he can't turn their heart, may he turn their ankles, so we know them by their limpin'."

and finally:
"May you be in Heaven a half an hour before the Devil knows you're dead."

Slainte!