And of COURSE my unluckiest day of every year is day 13…shit.

Once, as a child, I set up a series of pinecones for the leprechauns to hide in, as I thought they were the size of a pea and would whither away from the elements. The next morning, a nice thank you note, accompanying a pack of Tastycake Tandy Cakes was waiting for me, from the leprechauns, aka my mother. I had the spirit! That began my love of the day for the next several years.

So, if you know me you know that every year on or around St. Patty’s day I end up hurt, sick, in the emergency room, etc etc. I have never had green beer in my life because every time I have attempted to acquire it I have been injured in some way. This curse has followed me since college, although I am not certain of the origins. I do know that at one point, from my teenage years to maybe age 20, I LOVED St. Pattys and all it represented. Green EVERYWHERE, kiss me I’m Irish, all of that. Then one fateful year it all went to shit. I’m not sure what I did to piss off those little leprechauns, but whatever it was, it was mayjah!

Maybe karma had finally caught up to me, my Irish facade had been too much. Because, I’m not Irish. Maybe a smidge but not really enough to proclaim that I am and request kisses for that very reason.

This year, I am preparing for a reversal of the curse. The last few years have been very mild and I want it to completely go away this year. Yes Mr. St. Patrick, I will wear green in your honor. I will give out the adorable green cake pops I purchased for coworkers and wish the luck of the Irish on everyone I see. But I will NOT hold the mask of conformity over my face and allege to be Irish or claim that everyone is Irish on this day. Just won’t do it. Day 13, I respect and celebrate others despite our differences…and maybe leave a few pine cone shelters in the front yard…