St. Paddy’s Day – The Aftermath

By Brittany

So St. Paddy’s Day 2010 has come and gone and if the giant foam hat I discovered in my bed this morning (that I don’t even remember wearing…) is any indication, the day was a huge success. Not a success: my brand new pillow cases that are now permanently printed with glittery green shamrocks that were once adorning my cheeks.

But, yeah, yesterday was awesome. Epic. “BEST DAY EVER!” At least that was the case, say, eight hours ago when I was doing the Irish Jig and clicking my heels on the way to Taco Bell for a few late night Crunch Wrap Supremes.  However, post-day St. Paddy’s, when I’m feeling green instead of wearing green, isn’t giving me that loving feeling.

Does anyone else feel like even water doesn’t taste good this morning?  Yeah, you can thank the Irish Car Bombs for that one.

If only I had remembered this feeling 3 days ago when I was counting down the hours to St. Patrick’s day via my Facebook profile and gushing about all the beauty this religious holiday has to offer. When I was scrambling to finish up my Thursday reading so I could spend 12 hours drinking in peace. When I was putting together the perfect green outfit, undies and all. When my friends and I were scoping out the drink specials at every bar on campus. Honestly, since the minute I turned 21, I transformed into a (figuratively Irish) St. Paddy’s Day pro-party planner/green beer extraordinaire.

But as the next day taps me on the shoulder, I realize I have Irish-jigged myself into a green mess.

Yes, this morning has been brutal. I woke up at 8am for class and thanked god I didn’t choke to death in my sleep from the 13 shamrock necklaces around my neck. I removed them and stumbled to the bathroom where I realized that I failed to properly squirt contact fluid into my contact holder last night. And when I looked in the mirror and tried to scrub off what was left of the giant shamrock on my face, I learned that I hadn’t been to 2 bars like I once thought, but actually went to 6. So many, in fact, that the stamps were running up my arm.

I returned to my room to get dressed for the long (OMG it’s gonna be so long) day of classes, which now looked like a leprechaun’s clothing store. Somehow throughout the day I acquired quite the Irish wardrobe: foam hat, green aviators, shamrock antenna head band, a neon green wig, and (my personal favorite) a button that reads, “Want to see my lucky charms?”

Just looking at it all made my head hurt.

And now, with what feels like 12 little leprechaun’s banging on my skull, I have to go to class. In my glasses. With bar stamps up my arm.

Yeah, St. Paddy’s Day was a success, but I just hope someone will remind me of this feeling next February when I start my countdown to the greatest college holiday of the year.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go dump the green beer out of my Nalgene (true story) and fill it with some Blue Powerade for the long day ahead.