Chapter Fifteen: Green Beer and Glitter

When my day ended yesterday, I knew it had been a good one based solely on the fact that I was washing green glitter off my face before heading to bed.

After all, any day that leaves me literally sparkling has to be worth noting.

St. Patrick’s Day. I have never actually celebrated it. Not really. Oh, maybe I’ve been known to bake a shamrock shaped cut out cookie or two in my life or worn the obligatory green attire, but other than that I have spent my adult life at home on this pint drinking day of leprechauns and Irish folk tunes.

“There is an Irish band playing at the Aquarium downtown, want to go?”

I am all set to turn down this eleventh hour invitation from one of my girlfriends. It is a Monday, people. I have a job. Besides, that’s a total college hang out and I would feel extremely out of place. But then I reconsider.

And call a sitter.

After all, this is Act Two. This is a new life. And the new me. And the new improved version of me decides that if I was hit by an asteroid tomorrow wouldn’t it be a shame that I’d never danced a jig while downing a green beer? Tragic.

Faster than you can say pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars, and green clovers I am in the only emerald shirt I own standing in a cloudy bar sipping grass colored beer and stomping my feet to what I swear is the soundtrack from Titanic, the scene where they have one hell of a party below deck in C class. I practically expect Leonardo de Caprio to sidle up to me at any moment and whisk me off my feet. (Eat your heart out Kate Winslet.)

Instead, I am abducted by some curly haired kid who twirls me around and slurs that I am the prettiest girl in this whole damn bar. Actually, the whole damn town. Maybe the whole damn world. I just laugh at his alcohol induced awe, drink the compliments instead of the beer, and allow him to whirl and weave me from one end of the dance floor to the next. At one point some girl tosses glitter across the dance floor and we are both doused from head to toe in sparkles.

The band is exuberant and joyful, and I soon lose my drunken dance partner (intentionally) and trade him in for my girlfriends who are taking up the entire front row, clapping and singing along.

And in the midst of the singing and the music I take just a second to inhale the energy all around me and give thanks.

For life and music. For friends and glitter.

But mostly for a second chance around that seems to be suddenly lucky and charmed, and oh so magically delicious.