Happy St. Paddy’s Day. See, I call it St. Paddy’s Day because I’m on such intimate terms with ol’ Patrick. He and I go way back. All the way back to the days when we used to chase garter snakes out my grandmother’s flower beds. He kept on with the snake chasing thing, I moved to LA to become an actor. It’s funny what fate has planned for you isn’t it?
As you can probably already tell, I don’t have a lot to say today. But it’s a holiday so I feel some obligation to post. I don’t know why. I just do. Especially since it’s a cool holiday. A religious sounding holiday that revolves around beer. Who else but the Catholics could come up with such an idea? Quite possibly the best Saint holiday.
It’s way better anyway than St. Lucia Day in Sweden. St. Lucia Day is celebrated on December 13th. Way too close to Christmas. There’s not a lot of drinking involved. Instead (since Lucia was a woman) girls dress up in white dresses and wear a crown of candles. That’s cute and all… The boys are forced to wear white pajama-things and wear pointy hats with gold stars on them. Like little gay wizards.
That doesn’t sound like a great holiday to me. The only redeeming quality that I can find is that they eat lots of spicy gingerbread cookies and sweet buns called Lussekatter. Yummy. Oh, and the history of St. Lucia is pretty sweet too. There are two main stories on the reasons for her sainthood. Both are a bit twisted. Here's some back story: St. Lucia was hell of a chick. Sicilian. She was kind and helpful. Practically a…well…saint. But that part comes next.
The first story is that St. Lucia had an admirer. A man who felt that her eyes were the most beautiful that he’d ever seen. Problem was, the man was an unbeliever. Lucia could never give herself to him. But she could give him her eyes. So she did. She popped her eyeballs out and offered them to him. A little morbid, sure, but hey, this was Sicily! Eyeballs are a perfectly acceptable offering. Especially if there the eyeballs of that dirty double crosser in the next town. But anyway, then a miracle happened. Lucia’s eyeballs grew back! And they were more beautiful than the first set. The greedy and jilted admirer, not being satisfied with the bloody old eyes Lucia gave him before, demanded that she give him her new eyes too. Well, Lucia had enough of pooping out her own eyeballs so she said no. This pissed the man off so he jammed a knife into her heart. The end.
The second story involves the asshole guy as well. The man loved her, but she didn’t love him back. Her mother asked her to marry him anyway but Lucia refused. The man, being the rational, levelheaded person that he was, tied Lucia to a stake and set her on fire. She prayed for a miracle. She prayed to survive the fire. Since she was such a groovy gal, her prayers were answered. She didn’t burn. So the man shoved a sword into her neck. But instead of killing her instantly, she writhed around for three hours, spouting off beautiful poetry before she finally shuffled off this mortal coil. The end.
What lovely stories.
To sum up: St. Patrick’s Day wins! Happy St. Patrick’s Day.
Fun Fact: St. Patrick and St. Lucia never actually met in real life. But they’re probably together now in heaven. Hopefully St. Patrick isn’t trying to take advantage of her. Hopefully he’s not trying to talk Lucia out of her eyeballs. She’ll probably give in.
She was always easy on the eyes.
I’ll be here all week ladies and germs.