Monday, March 17, 2008
Kiss My Irish A$$ For Luck!
Happy St. Patrick's Day, laddies! St. Patrick's Day has always been a fun "holiday" for me. As a kid I woke up every St. P's Day to the sounds of really crappy Irish folk music that my parents would play on the stereo LOUDLY. For years they continued this tradition by calling us on the phone, early, to play the music for us. (in fact, I'm sorta waiting to see if they'll call again this year. They've moved and might not have the turntable set up anymore.....) My mom would tint our milk green and we would have corned beef for dinner (I'm NOT a fan of corned beef and haven't chosen to continue THAT tradition as an adult).
So this fine, misty, gray Pacific NW morning (so like Ireland in that respect) I made sure we were all dressed in something appropriately green and Irish. I tinted the kids' milk green at breakfast. I was planning on making green eggs, too, but Mr. Chick, unaware of my plans, started breakfast for the kids with bagels. So, I improvised and tinted the margarine green. I know - ! Gross, but kinda cool. They enjoyed it and seemed blown away that green butter and green milk didn't taste any different than the regular stuff. I made Nicholas' lunch, as usual, but made sure his sandwich was pesto ham (one of the few sandwich choices that he'll eat - pesto. He loves it!), and included a fat green pickle in his lunch, too. I would have tinted his applesauce green but didn't want to open the container and put it in a small tupperware container for fear that it wouldn't make it back home. So, regular applesauce today - bummer.
As for me, I walk around 365 days a year with Irish all over me. Well, maybe not ALL over - just my butt. Yes, my ass is very Irish. You see, when I was a wee 23 I got the notion that it would be cool to get a tattoo. I didn't want anything big or showy. In fact, I didn't want anyone to even know I had a tattoo - unless I chose to tell/show you. So placement was key. Girls from college were getting tats in places like their ankles, or hip bones. I wasn't down with that, thinking ahead in my life to eventual pregnancy. That angelfish tats on your lower abdomen/hip bone would someday turn into a distorted blowfish. No thanks. So I went for upper left butt cheek. Lower than pants/waistline so it wouldn't be seen by random people, even in a swimsuit. But what should the image be? Something personal and timeless. No fads. For me the perfect image was a lucky 4-leaf shamrock leaf. A 4-leaf clover!
Behold: It's about the size of a quarter. It's held up pretty well over the years, considering it's 15 years old already
. I figured I had the most control over the size/spread of my ass as the years march on (this picture, taken hastily this morning, makes it look like the tattoo is on my back, but rest assured I had to pull my jeans down a bit to reveal it for the camera. I just didn't want to take a picture of anything else, if you know what I mean, and artfully arranged my Shamrock Run sweatshirt accordingly. When I sit down you can't even see the tattoo - it lives lower than my beltline.)
And so I proudly display my Irishness on this very Irish of days. And I wish you all a very fun and festive St. Patrick's Day. Or, if you celebrated over the weekend like Mr. Chick, I wish you freedom from the hangover by today!
So this fine, misty, gray Pacific NW morning (so like Ireland in that respect) I made sure we were all dressed in something appropriately green and Irish. I tinted the kids' milk green at breakfast. I was planning on making green eggs, too, but Mr. Chick, unaware of my plans, started breakfast for the kids with bagels. So, I improvised and tinted the margarine green. I know - ! Gross, but kinda cool. They enjoyed it and seemed blown away that green butter and green milk didn't taste any different than the regular stuff. I made Nicholas' lunch, as usual, but made sure his sandwich was pesto ham (one of the few sandwich choices that he'll eat - pesto. He loves it!), and included a fat green pickle in his lunch, too. I would have tinted his applesauce green but didn't want to open the container and put it in a small tupperware container for fear that it wouldn't make it back home. So, regular applesauce today - bummer.
As for me, I walk around 365 days a year with Irish all over me. Well, maybe not ALL over - just my butt. Yes, my ass is very Irish. You see, when I was a wee 23 I got the notion that it would be cool to get a tattoo. I didn't want anything big or showy. In fact, I didn't want anyone to even know I had a tattoo - unless I chose to tell/show you. So placement was key. Girls from college were getting tats in places like their ankles, or hip bones. I wasn't down with that, thinking ahead in my life to eventual pregnancy. That angelfish tats on your lower abdomen/hip bone would someday turn into a distorted blowfish. No thanks. So I went for upper left butt cheek. Lower than pants/waistline so it wouldn't be seen by random people, even in a swimsuit. But what should the image be? Something personal and timeless. No fads. For me the perfect image was a lucky 4-leaf shamrock leaf. A 4-leaf clover!
Behold: It's about the size of a quarter. It's held up pretty well over the years, considering it's 15 years old already
. I figured I had the most control over the size/spread of my ass as the years march on (this picture, taken hastily this morning, makes it look like the tattoo is on my back, but rest assured I had to pull my jeans down a bit to reveal it for the camera. I just didn't want to take a picture of anything else, if you know what I mean, and artfully arranged my Shamrock Run sweatshirt accordingly. When I sit down you can't even see the tattoo - it lives lower than my beltline.)And so I proudly display my Irishness on this very Irish of days. And I wish you all a very fun and festive St. Patrick's Day. Or, if you celebrated over the weekend like Mr. Chick, I wish you freedom from the hangover by today!
// posted by MP @ 8:19 AM 
Hit Counters
