St. Patty's Day

Today is a day in Chicago where all of the amateur party animals come out in full Irish regalia and act like it's St. Patrick's Day. Which is weird because it's not. Admittedly, I was once that lass. I drove 4 hours from Bloomington, Indiana with my partner in crime Anna, in my 1991 Volvo 240. At the end of the weekend, we went in the opposite direction under a cloud of headaches and embarrassing photographs. I even called Denver and asked him out to drinks over voicemail. Denied. 10 years later, I have managed to secure him in my web. Sucker.