Upon my return to the west coast, I realized I would be home in time for the San Francisco St. Patrick’s Day Parades. I have only been a few times in the past, but every time I went, I had a good time so I called up (and by “called” I mean I Facebook messaged. Hello 2010.) my cousin who lives in the City.
Technically he is my third cousin I think. Maybe second cousin once-removed, I’m not sure how that works. His dad and my dad are first cousins so if anyone know how the branches of family trees work, feel free to enlighten me.
At any rate, I’m always impressed that we hang out at all because when I tell most people that I’m going to hang out with my third cousins, their typical response is “hm. I don’t even think I know my third cousins!”
Seriously people, you need to start believing me when I say I have a big family.
I drove down the San Francisco and only had ONE moment of “Crimany, I didn’t miss this traffic and now recall why I didn’t like to drive to SF” which is way below normal for me. I met up with my cousins and my newly-turned-21-year old brother, where I bought him an adult beverage and from there, we went bar/pub-hopping.
Now, I had myself a grand ol time in San Francisco, but those that I know in New Orleans ahem My Old Boss’ Family, ahem contend that St. Paddy’s Day in the Big Easy is way better. Well I can’t compare the two since I didn’t make it to any parades last year (hi baseball season, have we met?) and I had left (obvi) before any took place this year. But two things in favor of the SF celebration: one, I wouldn’t have gotten to drink celebrate with my brother or my family had I been in New Orleans and two (and most importantly), I saved myself the image that would have surely been burned in my brain forever– and that image was my old boss (and his legs) in a kilt, parading. So score one for SF.
For the record, I’m expecting a solid retort out of my old boss to the above comment because I have never known him to be a loss for a comeback. I mean, how many other people do you know who wish to be roasted (Friars Club-style) for their birthday by choice? Yep. That guy. So fire away Mike, the comments section is open.
In a shocking turn of events, I brought my camera (mostly because I got this supercute St. Patrick’s Day scrapbook paper that I’m dying to use) and (some of the) evidence of my weekend was captured below.
The corned beef and cabbage will be served Wednesday. I’ll be getting my crock pot on then. Erin Go Bragh!