This weekend was kind of a blur, with a New England trip and Sunday's St. Patrick's Day festivities. That's right, this year my favorite fake St. Patty's Day was held on March 9 - eight days early but no less festive. I'm a huge fan of cheap beer and drunken dance parties so, it goes without saying, I had the most fantastic time. Maggie attended the "pre-game", otherwise known as the parade proper, and then was whiskey-ed off to Grandma's for an evening of smotherly love. Her beloved aunt took the hit and skipped out on the binge drinking (she's fantastic - and if you don't believe me, ask her. She'll tell ya) leaving Maggie's Daddy, Maggie's Mommy, and assorted friends (Irish and otherwise) to sing Peter Setera and steal cigarettes from bagpipers. As MD said, "Why do we only do this once a year?" Why, indeed!
Work's a zoo, my desk is covered, I'm still recovering from Sunday... more sooner rather then later.
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