I am Irish
and I am proud.
Anyone who has seen me in the summer time
knows just exactly how Irish I am. I go from white to crispy in about five
minutes flat on a stormy day. I swear to god I’ve gotten a sunburn indoors
before. It is just a fact of my existence that I have come to love and accept.
My whole
family is Irish, and by proxy I have an incredibly large Irish family. This
means that Christmas and Easter is a very busy time for us. Soon I will be
writing the annual Christmas letter that gets sent to the four hundred relatives
across the globe. As a big Irish family, we are very proud of our heritage and
our lineage. We are also very, very good at getting drunk with little to no
reason for celebration and even better at fighting once we are drunk.
Even though I
am a Plastic Patty (Irish folk with three or more generations separating them
from the Emerald Isle) I can still trace
my roots all the way back to County Clare, and the St. Claire family on my mother’s side. My father’s
side is a little harder since a lot of our documents were lost in the war, but
we’re working on it.
Being Irish is a way of life. It
explains the red hair, the blue eyes, the temper, the stubbornness, even the
Catholic-ness of my family. Unlike the rest of my family who are genetically
predisposed to alcoholism, I drew the DD for life stick by being alcohol
intolerant. But what money I save on not buying drinks at the bar goes straight
into my summer sunscreen fund.
Tell someone
about your heritage today. Be proud of where you and your family come from. Put
it on facebook, in the comments, on a postcard or a sign. However you do it,
recognize that the past is part of your present.



Hey, your translucent skin will never be sun damaged.
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