The Reluctant Receptionist

i was one of only three people in my entire division today to wear green. and it’s not like i wore those shamrock-shaped sunglasses and shiny green plastic beads around my neck (i’m saving that outfit later for dinner at cory’s); i wore a green and navy tie, a tie that i wear at least once a week whether or not it’s the day of st. patrick. apparently i’m the only one who cares about this anymore, and even saying that i “care” is a stretch. i care about st. patrick’s day the way i care about, say, arbor day. if it were tradition to wear a tree t-shirt on arbor day, i might go along with it, as long as i already owned a tree t-shirt. okay, maybe that’s a bad analogy.

starting in grad school, i tended to avoid the st. patrick’s day festivities because they amounted to nothing more than thousands of people standing around in the cold being drunk. obviously i like being drunk but i hate the cold. and i hate people standing around in big crowds. only one of my close friends identifies as irish-american (i say identifies because, well, we’re basically all irish. i myself am like 3/4 irish but i look so jewish that nobody ever knows it. i’d say that most people i know except phong are of at least partial irish descent, and even phong’s had a little irish in him. ba-duh ching i’ll be here all week.) and we’re going over to his house for dinner tonight.

i’m hoping now that RWO tour is over things can get back to normal a little bit. normal meaning i only work a day job and a church job and sing one gig instead of all that plus the tour. i haven’t had time to go grocery shopping or cook a morsel of food for a few weeks now, and my checking account is showing it even if my waistline isn’t. have i ever written a more midwestern housewife sentence than that? no, i haven’t.

so i’ll stop here. happy st. patrick’s day. pass me a green beer.