I was an Irish Princess

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For the first 25 years of my life, my parents owned a bar. Not just any bar. To us, it was THE bar. All of our important coming of age shit was celebrated in the bar. First communions, graduations, birthdays, even some holidays…and most especially, St. Patrick’s Day.

You learn a lot when your parents own a bar. You learn how to mix drinks, of course, non alcoholic drinks…like the Chrissy Cocktail I invented when I was 9–seven up, squirt, grenadine, pineapple juice and orange juice (when I grew up, I added vodka). You tell your kindergarten teacher that you want to be a bartender when you grow up. You play waitress in your best friends’ basement (but you add roller skates, because when you own the bar, everyone is going to wear roller skates). You go to a lot of wakes and funerals because you know a lot of people (and a lot of alcoholic). You decide that you DON’T want to be an alcoholic, because you spent your impressionable years watching them. But you drink like a fucking fish in your twenties, anyway.

And then, one day, the bar is gone. And all you have are these AMAZING memories. And that’s okay. It brought you to where you are. It shaped your existence. It gave you all those AMAZING memories.

You try for a few years to go out to other Irish bars on St. Patrick’s Day. You run around town like the Eurotrash of the suburban town where you once held court. Fallen royalty without a kingdom. And then you realize that a bottle of Jamo, a bottle of Bailey’s, and a 6-pack of Guinness are way cheaper than a few shots and a couple of warm green beers at an overcrowded pub. And your dad taught you to make the best corned beef and cabbage on the planet anyway.

But you still deck yourself out like a motherfucking leprechaun and roll into work. Because that’s just what you do. And you wear a green jacket with the name of the bar and the year of your birth like a boss. And you live every day. With your memories and your plans for the future.

Because THAT is what makes life happen.

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18 Responses

  1. Good girl…I’m in tears. Good memories,good pictures,good life,good times. Would I want to go back….yeah..and CHANGE alot. But only in my dreams.
    HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY PUNKIN.

  2. Well I’m half Irish so does that mean I get 1/2 a kiss? Anyway, I did my celebrating last night in Carlsbad, CA home of Legoland and found a good bar that was full of Marines and ladies.

  3. Btw….I’m like the LEAST Irish person on the planet. I have zero Irish, English or Scottish in my background. It’s so funny because everyone I know has someone in their family tree that is. Not me. I have German with a splash of Hungarian, Austrian, Croatian, Russian and Swiss on one side. Portuguese ad infinitum on the other with like a slash of Spanish because I gotta presume that someone from Spain accidentally ended up in the Azores on a drunken bender at least once.

    1. If you’re German, Hungarian, Austrian, etc. you don’t need this holiday. You got Octoberfest, St. Stephen 1st birthday, and whatever the Austrian celebrate. Ok if you want to celebrate St. Paddy’s Day everybody’s Irish then anyway.

      1. Exactly! And Oktoberfest is so much fun. I participate in the spirit of drinking green beer but I’m not one of those that’s all WOO HOO let’s pretend I’m irish today.

  4. You simply ROCK!!! ..and this is coming from one Irish McPrincess to another…. I simply love your wit, candor, big Irish Kahonas—and moreso, the twinkle in your eye as you tell a story! Adore you! <3

  5. Hey there fellow Irish Sister! Can’t tell you how happy we are to find your blog! Although we’d love to say it was Irish luck, a leprechaun led the way or some magical sense of kismet, truthfully it was a mutual blogging bud who lit the path to your door! Regular Guy NYC Phil. But we’re happy nonetheless! Your post was heartfelt & rooted in a deep love & respect for family! And that my dear is an Irish trait that is admirable! We look forward to swinging by more often and reading more of your posts!!!

  6. This is one of the best blogs I have read in a while. Memories are wonderful, you will carry them with you forever and they will give you many hours of joy. You lucky leprechaun you. :o)

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