Yes, boys and girls, the Ides of March are upon us and includes 4 very important holidays:
1. My dog Vinny's birthday
You didn't know about Vinny?
hmmm probably because the little hound was just too much responsibility and now lives with my parents.
2. My mom's birthday (today)
Editor's note: My mom, the Stacenator, is the coolest Florence Henderson lookalike you will EVER meet and just so happens to be my favorite person in the world. Not in the lame "my mom is my best friend because we drink tea and beeeest friends." No. My mom is actually my best friend. I
a) she loves wine
b) reads this blog and still claims me as her daughter
c) sends me texts like "So John Mayer made an ass of himself again. I like his music but I just don't see how people find him attractive." or (responding to my twitter post at 7pm on a Friday) "You're at chicken express? You must already be drunk! Sounds really good though!"
3. St. Patty's day
I own an "Irish I were drunk" t shirt
I love that bars serve green beer all month
I like the idea of making out with strangers just because I'm wearing a "Kiss me I'm Irish!" pin.
Like the idea...not act on it...mom....
4. Most Importantly, Daylights Savings Time and the official start of Patio Season
I lurv me some patio season.
Winter is really not my season.
Sitting in my dark apartment drinking wine by myself really gets in touch with my emo, "woe is me, I work so hard" side, but spring is where it's at.
It is time to gather with fellow 20 somethings and happy hour 2-3 times per week.
It is time to search for whatever bar is offering $2 you call its so we can afford all of our happy hours.
More importantly, it is time to start drinking my dinner and giving up all solid foods so I can look good while getting a tan on Saturday at the pool.
Or at least eating someone else's cheese fries, because that doesn't count.
My mood really increases exponentially during this time of year.
I am glowing.
And since it's been awhile since I did a little diddy
(say that 10x fast)
We shall have an ode to Patio Season
The infinite Saturday:
Brunch at noon, come one come all, it's time for eggs & bacon
$1 bellinis, mimosas, and more, martinis, stirred, not shaken
We sit outside and bask in the sun, in the lovely Texas spring
we drink and drink and drink some more, not caring about a thing
our voices rise, our jokes grow crude, our sunglasses come out
we laugh, we drink, we drink, we laugh, and then we begin to shout
Somebody get us a round of SHOTS! We're far too sober, here!
It's patio season, and that's enough reason, to raise your glass in cheer!
When fellow brunchers look on in disgust, it's time to get the bill.
Our breakfast tacos are long gone, and we have had our fill.
We discuss which patio will be so lucky, to inherit us then?
we bring high spirits, open wallets, and the mouths of sailor men.
Where ever we go, will have to meet our requirement of 3:
spacious patio room, a rowdy waiter, and free flowing tequila, for me.
Onward soldiers, we rendezvous, until the sun goes down
And then it's home, time for a nap, before we hit the town
Our banks will hate us, we might lose a phone, but the bottom line is clear
Patio season is back in town, and it's time for a frosty beer.
So raise your glasses to the sky and join me when I say:
Here's to the season we love the most, let's get fucked up today!
My jovial spirit and I must get back to work now.
There is far too much to do for me to be dilly dallying around if I want to get out of here by 5:30.
I have a happy hour to go to.
With live bands and $2 drafts.
Did I mention it's Patio Season?