This was the first time in my entire life that I ventured out into the world to celebrate all things Irish. I’ve never had any connection to the day before, no lineage that I know of, not a big fan of corned beef and cabbage, and the drunken revelry seemed a bit too much for my liking.


But with new friends and I’ve made over the last few years, I thought I’d give it a go.

The parade that the SLC puts on was a good start to the Irish coffee morning, but the real party started with the ‘infamous’ pub crawl through the downtown streets.

The poplar pub offered green concoctions and tasty Scotch eggs that hit the spot. I dabbled in a car bomb, which tasted like a chocolate milkshake. After that though, things went haywire.

From memories of family members recently lost to others coping with recent unemployment, the party turned into a time of friends being there for each other, holding hands, showing love and support.

On second thought, it twas a pretty good day after all.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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