Kiss me, I'm Swedish!

I recently told one of my co-workers that as a kid I'd always wished that I was Irish, because, you know, of St. Patrick's Day.  He looked at me kinda funny and asked, how exactly do they celebrate St. Patrick's Day in Utah.  And I suddenly realized that while I saw St. Patrick's day as a day to wear green, eat green bagels and go to a parade that celebrated wolfhounds and bag pipes; St. Patrick's Day is a drinking holiday.  My co-worker said that even as a kid he pretty much knew that it was a drinking holiday.  

So, through my naivet'e I associated St. Patrick's Day with a celebration of a culture that I longed to be a part maybe mostly because, it seemed that it was the only celebration of it's kind in my community.  There simply wasn't a parade for those of Scottish or Scandinavian heritage.  Turns out, I do have a smidge of Irish blood in me but these days I'm pretty satisfied with the heritage I have and have found plenty of ways to celebrate it.  I'll still be wearing green today and there's a corned beef brisket in my fridge, because you know, it's less messy than adopting a wolfhound.