Post St. Pat's

It has taken nearbout all of my inner strength to haul myself outta bed and into work this morning. Yesterday, found me laid out on the couch for the entire day with the curtains drawn, not once venturing into the sunlight. Saturday was a long, hard St. Patrick's Day, and, though I survived, it was just barely.

For those of you who've never been in New York on March 17th, let me explain that come rain, sleet, or in this case buckets of snow, the Irish will come out of the woodwork to celebrate. My god, there were folks throwin' up by noon! I saw a grown man fall off a bar stool before 5pm, his eyes like tiny slits and his head lolling from side to side. Every person you meet is decked out in green, and not the tasteful green tie you see on the parade commentator, but head-to-toe, non-matching shades of the brightest greens they can find, topped with tacky plastic hats and Mardi Gras beads in shamrock shapes. Bagpipe troupes blare in and out of every bar and the Guinness flows like water (hence the exceptionally long lines for the bathroom).

Folks make the most exceptional asses out of themselves....it's totally fabulous!

Sweetpotato is a spud of the most Irish sort, so of course we lead the charge, though with mimosa's and light beer to ensure we actually made it through the night. And while I had intended to make Irish Soda Bread and eat corned beef and cabbage, a few hours into the mo-mos and nachos and egg rolls sounded ethnically appropriate. (As per usual, Fashionslave forced loaded nacho consumption upon me when I should have had a hummus platter because she is the size of my right thigh and doesn't rip her jeans trying to stretch her way into them.) Nevermind, I do despise dieting on national holidays....any nation will do.

Today though, I'm back to Diet Pepsi and yogurt, trying to wrest the toxins from my bloated body, having vowed yesterday to give up booze...at least until Friday.

So, Happy Monday everyone...let the de-tox begin!