From March 17, 2015
I’ve never been wild and crazy about St. Patrick’s Day. Most of the time, it is lucky if I even remember to wear green before walking out of the house. There is one St. Patrick’s Day that will always stand out to me though, and that was the semester I lived in France.
My best friend in France was an Irish girl. In many ways, we were two peas in a pod. Both of us were struggling with being away from home and felt pretty isolated in France. Combine that with our tendency to not drink until all hours of the morning, and we were the odd balls in the group of foreign students. Nonetheless, that St. Patrick’s Day, we all decided to make it a night to remember, complete with matching green shirts, screen printed with a well said phrase in Gaelic, courtesy of my friend.
I don’t remember much from that night, except that we were pretty ridiculous and we had a riot of good fun. We laughed, romped about the town, made random friends with fellow bar-visitors and I learned that in Ireland, you simply can’t call the day St. Paddy’s Day. It is either St. Patrick’s Day or Paddy’s Day.
Today, I am remembering that night fondly and thinking of my dear friend, so far away. Paddy’s Day will always remind me of her. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!