17 March 2008

The dilemma (II)

It's not that I'm complaining. My cubicle is prime real estate on Intern Alley -- front and center, lots of face time, lots of looking up when people pass, lots of nice chatty remarks with my friendly colleagues. Talking cubicles, it's lovely.

The point is, I'm there a lot now.

I'll get better at jotting the quick noteworthy happenings of the day, but for now: a monstrously long rambling on some events that simply cannot go unnoticed.

When I got to the office this morning, LC was noticeably lacking the color of the day. Really? According to J.Crew's spring collection (which, Erin, is on my bookmarks toolbar), green is on it's way out as the color of the year (welcome to 2008, yellow and orange...); the least we could do is give it one last hurrah.

But no. In a huff, (and pretty defensively, really) she wailed,

"But it's NOT St. Patrick's Day! The Pope changed it!"

I'm the self-named queen of you-had-to-be-there, but it was a great moment. I for one, was wearing green due to my recent appreciation for this (in my world, at least) long underappreciated holiday.

There are a few reasons why St. Pat's is a delight:

1. Guinness in Church/Blessing of the Shamrocks

At some point in each of your lives, I would strongly encourage you to attend a St. Patrick's Day mass. If you have any itch of imagination or adventure left in your post-grad soul, the concept itself should be enough to get you in the pew 36 minutes early (like it did for us). If for some reason you should be hesitant to attend, let me throw your skepticism to the wind for you.

First off, you will be in a Catholic church, which, with a stroke of shamrock-luck (like ours) will be strikingly beautiful, out of the ordinary and a taste of the sacred that we just don't get much anymore.

Next, you will be surrounded by a group of Irish fashionistas extraordinaire. This year saw a rise in the light-green turtleneck/hunter-green blazer combo for men, with puffy-sleeved emerald tops the rage for the ladies. Also worthy of comment were the toboggan/sweater combos popular in the 85+ crowd, with Irish quips crocheted into the fabric. Obviously all of this was tempered with a fair share of glimmering shamrock pins, ties, hats and tights.

When we came to the part in the ceremony when the 1st graders marched down the aisle with small potted shamrocks and presented them to be blessed, I knew that no stone had been left uncovered. The blessing was in Latin, too, which means people have been blessing shamrocks for a long time. So yeah. The shamrocks got blessed.

Phase 2 of the evening involved a DC fireman in a kilt-uniform (who knew?) bagpiping and directing us down to the parish hall, with huge green celtic crosses lining the hallways. Laura squealed like 9 times when we got within good hearing distance of the unbelievable Irish band (complete with a 12 year old accordian player). We were holding ourselves back from just breaking into a God-awful Riverdancing rendition, because there's something just alive about that music.

It got better when we got to the food table. Salmon. New potatoes. Cheese trays. Seriously? In a church fellowship hall?

It got better again when we were corralled toward a makeshift bar where parishoners were loading up Dixie cups with Guinness.

When we thought it couldn't get better, the dancers came. Their curls were a force to be reckoned with, their costumes were self-designed and they attacked that linoleum floor with their (both hard and soft shoe) jigs. At that moment, I vowed to give my first daughter to a childhood filled with Irish dance. Or maybe I'll just YouTube them every once in awhile. The point is, it was pretty fabulous.


2. That's it, really.

I just don't know how I never noticed Leprechaun Day before.

Aside from reveling in greenness today, my day was made by four separate, but wonderful events (chronologically):

- I uploaded Jack Johnson's new album to my Nano. He never disappoints, but this I really love. Especially "Hope."

- A co-worker iPhoned a picture of a blooming tree at sunrise, and swung by my cubicle to give hope that spring might actually be coming. I then realized that the last time I saw spring was in '04, here in DC. I like spring.

- Melissa and Dave brought a crew to HQ for a tour, great conversation and a great lunch. I love knowing them.

- On my way back in from lunch, a lady was walking towards the gym at the base of our tower. She was not your typical lunchtime-worker-outer-in-an-office-building. She fell more into the late '70s tennis club crowd.

She was proud of her bow-tied sash headband.
She was proud of her sleeveless Lacoste tunic.
She was proud of her white biker shorts and her even-whiter tennies.
And I was proud of her for all of it.

The thought of her has made me smile at least 7 times since that moment.





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