I was on my high horse this weekend, for once, I don’t even care.

As it was St. Patrick’s Day, the whole of Seattle and beyond flocked into Belltown and lower Queen Anne, and made complete asses of themselves. Using the day as an excuse to drink, and wear giant hats made to look like pints of Guinness, I cannot even count how much drunk people we walked by/stepped over/and dodged. I don’t like drunk people on a regular weekend, let alone St. Patrick’s Day weekend.

Yes, yes. We all know that I spent two weeks in Ireland back in September. This does not make me an expert on the country, the people, or the culture. However, those weeks were really beautiful, and I feel so protective over Ireland. The love and hospitality we were shown is not something we would have experienced here in the United States, and it embarrasses me that people use this holiday as an excuse to get wasted and stumble all over the damn place under the pretense of “being Irish”. It embarrasses me and makes me angry.

I think it’s the whole alcohol thing, really. Do the Irish drink a lot? Well, sure. But then, so do college kids during football weekends, and apparently Mexicans (the whole Cinco de Mayo thing, right?), and almost everyone celebrating New Years because nothing says ‘Bring on the New Year!’ quite like puking on the street. Amirite?

I am not impressed, but really, when am I ever impressed with people? I am not impressed, and I am a little bummed. Am I really only twenty seven right now?

I am showing this again, because it’s awesome, and because it makes me feel really happy. I know something that a lot of people don’t, and it’s not just about this one trip I’ve taken. There is so much more to life than getting drunk every weekend for some reason or another.

So much more.