Tuesday, March 17, 2009

My favorite day

of the year is March 18. Because on March 18, it's over: the meanest, loudest, most obnoxious day of the year. Yes, I'm a no-fun curmudgeon. I'm an old fuddy-duddy. I'm the Scrooge of March. I hate St. Patrick's Day.

I don't remember always hating it. It seems to me back in the day, I didn't actually have to take too much crap from anyone for declining to wear green. I don't wear green because a) I'm a non-conformist and 2) it's not a great color for me. Except that second one probably isn't true with my dark hair and hazel eyes, so it's really much more of the first one. I just don't remember it being that big a deal when I was younger. I'm not Irish or Catholic, so it never seemed like something that really had anything to do with me.

I think my real dislike for St. Patrick's Day started 7 years ago when I started at my current job. Every March 17, our building is taken over by drunken revelers. We're on the parade route, or near enough it that getting around by car is nearly impossible. But twice, March 17 happened to fall on the one day of the year that my mother was in town for work and could have lunch with me. I frankly resented that we had such a difficult time getting together for lunch even though she was 2 blocks down from my building.

Then the partiers hang out in our lobby for hours. The floor gets sticky from spilled beer. The air reeks of corned beef and cabbage. I am not a fan of corned beef and cabbage. And the stupid drunk people in the lobby threaten to pinch me. (I don't think anyone actually has, but the threat itself could be considered assault you know.) Each year, I have become increasingly annoyed by the day.

If only people would let me not be a St. Patrick's Day person, it would be better. It's not that I'm not a fun person; this just isn't my thing. I like a good tailgate, or a night out at the bars. You all know this about me, so why do I have to have some reason for not caring about this particular non-holiday? Just let me stay quiet in my office and don't give me a hard time for not playing along. But they don't. They pester me and tease me and harass me. So this year, I'm staying home. I'm getting work done here, I'm playing with my dog, and nobody can see what color I am wearing (or not wearing).

Of course, the damn parade route in this town is so close to my house that my street is a staging ground. I guess I really can't escape. Tomorrow really can't come soon enough.


lu said...

i just realised i have a new petpeeve and it is when people say 'st paddy's day' and not even because i have any irish national leanings, but because it just annoys me.

i can appreciate where you are coming from, often the things that everyone is excited about do nothing for me and some people have trouble understanding that you are not a spoil sport, but just not interested.

just as they cannot understand my excitement for receiving emails from romeo dallaire, punctuation, or q tips!

lu said...

'st paddy's day' as opposed to 'st patrick's day' if that wasn't clear in my last comment!

One Girl's Opinion said...

I'm the same way with Halloween. And I don't have any desire to do anything special on St. Pat's day. Though I did use it as an excuse to buy a pretty new green cardigan that I love. :)

But you are not alone.

k said...

Although I appreciate any excuse to wear green (i look good in green, and i like it) and drink Guinness, I don't understand why this day has turned into some sort of drinking/partying free for all. As someone who lives in close proximity to a university, this day generally brings piles of puke on the sidewalk and rowdy students yelling and cheering all through the night.

S said...

So for all my negativity about the day, I just couldn't stay inside yesterday. It was too gorgeous (blue skies) and warm (80). It would have been cruel to keep poor Maddie away from a walk just because I live too close to the parade route. So when my friend invited me to watch the parade from the comfort of her 2nd floor downtown office, an invitation that extended to Maddie, I had to give in. I wound up having to hold Maddie through most of the parade because she loves to look out windows but there was nothing for her to stand on that got her high enough. I was then able to hang out in the office until the worst of the parade crowd dispersed.

But just to be clear that I'm still a scrooge, a parade horse left a huge pile of crap in my alley that didn't get cleaned up, even though I nicely asked a parade official to make sure it did. I've been complaining about it ever since, because, of course, they didn't bring a pooper scooper down the alley.

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