Greens

Last week was a rough one. I don't know if the moon was awkward on its axis and the tides were rolling in bad energy, but the whole week found me in fits of spectacular tears. Poor Craig, having to compromise his normal male moods for my peculiar female ones. But it was out of my control, so far out that I literally cried just because the day didn't feel comfortable, then cried because I was crying. Then cried harder because I couldn't stop crying over crying. I must have bit into something sour, seeping sour into my bloodstream and causing absolute tremulous waves of unidentifiable frustration. But the horror has since subsided, and I've discovered a glossier light at the end of the sad damp tunnel. Now in the aftermath it's just a matter of pushing forward and seeing what awaits me next. I'm in the midst of researching the aforementioned yet remaining unnamed and exciting transition for Craig and me. So is he. We're both so thrilled we can hardly sit still. It's difficult to maintain a mature level of calm when something so thrilling is around the bend. If there is ever a gap in conversation, one of us immediately fills it with further speculation about our future once we get to it. But it's important to remind ourselves that for this moment, this distinct frozen moment of time, we live in Richmond, we've got Richmond friends, Richmond responsibilities to satisfy. So tomorrow marks St. Patrick's Day around the globe. Since we've got new friends here, we intend to attempt to target an Irish bar or two and wrestle our way in for a Green Beer or two. One of our new friends, named the same as me and even spelled the same (she's really nice, so I'm granting her part ownership of our name) has the best kind of guest of all coming to town: her mother! It sounds as though, according to new K, her mother enjoys a Green Beer or two. So if everything unfolds as scheduled, we will all walk down Main Street to Rosie's, my very favorite bar in Richmond so far. It's a tiny place, and since St. Patrick's Day falls on a Friday this year, there will likely be swarms of Happy Hour-Goers who are taking full advantage of the annual Green Beer Holiday. I won't be surprised if we're not served our first Green Beer an hour or longer after arriving at the bar. Of course, if Rosie's is too packed, we can always travel by foot to Sine (accent over e) which is another pub-type establishment nearby. Regardless of how many Green Beers we manage to secure, witnessing the happy cold mugs crashing overhead to toast to St. Patrick, the seas of smiles of people excited to celebrate the greatest reason of the year to drink beer (the Irish!) and the flow of traffic around and about Richmond this Friday will be rewarding in and of itself. The above photo depicts me and my St. Louis girls clouded in green feather boas, on the streets of St. Louis the Saturday it chose to host its St. Patrick's Day parade. No matter where I've been or where I go, St. Louis remains this amazing experience, place and year in my heart. Every chance St. Louis had to celebrate anything, it did, and did it well. That Saturday was overcast, pretty damp and cold, but it was one of the most fun St. Patrick's Days I've ever had. The parade started in the morning, and the group of us that gathered watched the parade, snapped some photos of the ever-popular human arches and later wound up seated around a table at Jack Patrick's (Irish pub) with beers and potato soup (possible not the latter, but it suits the memory of a St. Patrick's Day, doesn't it?) Not of Irish descent myself, I've really never given a second thought to the celebration being about anything more than Green Beers, parades and friends, and as I see it, it will continue to be just that for me. I hope our adventure Friday finds us tucked in some corner of an Irish pub, grinning stupidly over mugs of Green Beers and having just a grand time. I will especially appreciate it after last week's frayed nerves and unreasonable breakdowns. I think Craig will appreciate it, too.