We need a day for all seasons
On my way back home from a sedate St Patrick's day (Excellent Indonesian food and beers, nothing green anywhere), I sat next to a particularly garrulous lady on the train. As our train carriage was full of young kids back from various alcohol-imbibing activities, it was rather amusing. Almost like OOD, where kids used to wander about the town square on weekends, drinking, singing and chatting with passersby. Anyway, said lady insisted on telling me the "spirit" of St Patrick (what? chasing away snakes? messing up the Pagans?) had been ruined by "drunkenness".I thought that was the point of St. Patrick's day? Not that I care too much since, after hanging out in Scotland last year, I've decided PTSD's going to promote Tartan day instead.
And, oh when's Nepali day going to happen? When we can all sit around, drink raksi and fry lettuce while slagging off India and China?
By the way, what is it with people talking to me this year? I feel that Washingtonians have suddenly become much chattier this year. I need to practice my look of intimidation some more so I can look serious and scholarly at BigNameMeeting next week.
posted by Priya @ 12:13 AM
2 Comments:
Heh. Picturing you looking sedate and scholarly. Nope, it's not working.
We had corned beef, cabbage, taties and guinness. But no excitement, really.
Well, excitement, for me, came today when I broke my glasses. Broke in terms of they somehow flew off my face onto the ground and I stepped on them. I was wearing boots.
Now, since I can't wear contacts, choices for BNC next week (assuming I get there and have a place to stay, both up in the air right now) are: pink glasses and blue glasses. The latter used to belong to my dad and, really, you can tell. Makes me look a bit like a Night owl. Unfortunately, not the nite owl.
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