Guide to Shopping the Black Market

I bought Evan a roomba for Hannukah.

Not just ANY roomba, though. No, no. It's a roomba with personality, history, and an amusing story.

It all began when I realized that I had dropped the ball on shopping. I thought I had more time! Isn't Christmas 3 weeks from now? Oh noes! He's Jewish!

What's a girl to do?

THIS girl decided to avoid the lines at Target, the craziness of driving, and instead called up an old buddy who can best be described as "a guy who knows how to get stuff." He's the guy you want to know if you ever end up in prison or in dire need of a last-minute holiday gift for someone important.

He directed me to reply to a specific craigslist ad and say that I was friends with him. No joke. I've never done that before, but the guy responded amiably enough and immediately set up a time and place to meet.

As I waited at the designated corner, I caught a glimpse of a large box with legs walking toward me. No head, just a box and legs. As it turned out, I bought Evan a (possibly) black market roomba that day, from a midget. True story.

Happy Hannukah, sweetheart.

Saint Patrick's Day

... is a holiday here. An honest-to-goodness holiday. I'm not entirely sure of which holiday I can equate it to though. Some of it reminded me of Memorial Day. When I walked out of the house today I was greeted by blaring music, footballs being tossed around, people sitting outside on the grass or on couches they had dragged out. There was a scent of barbecue and beer in the air. The weather was outstanding, and I think Spring is finally poking her head out from behind the dreary damp in the form of a million bright yellow daffodils.

It also felt a little bit like Chicago today. Specifically, the day of the South Side Irish Parade. Except without the mobs and drunken buffoonery. Well, no mobs at least.

Is this a drinking holiday? Sure, but I'm from Chicago, where Flag Day could be considered a drinking holiday. Did I indulge? Not really. I was happy enough to down my Fanta and just watch as everyone around me joked, drank, and generally had a good time. They tried to subject me to "beer pressure," but I was happy enough knowing that I was in Ireland for this event. Who wouldn't be?

As the day progressed, I kept thinking that it felt a bit like Halloween too. Everyone was dressed in their finest of cheap, gaudy, green hair ornaments, hoodies, boas, or in some cases, capes. It felt a little bit like New Year's. The noise, the celebratory greetings, the jovial hollers of, "Happy Saint Paddy's Day!"

Of all the holidays it felt like, it occurred to me that it couldn't be compared to any holidays I've experienced in America because, quite simply, this is not America. Well, maybe it felt a little like Christmas too.