303- A Warning Against Irish Car Bombs

    Two years ago, I put on a "Kiss Me I'm Irish" T-Shirt, decided to cut it's tight crew neck into a scoop and try to fix it up in a seam shop. The poor little white tee made it to a party that evening where I celebrated it's survival and clear message by throwing back two Irish Car-Bombs and grabbing a Guinness. I celebrated the evening at a fellow student's party who enjoyed his Irish roots to the extent of faking an Irish brogue daily and allowed pecks on the cheek to rain down on my silly head from various guests. However, soon I felt the forewarned mentions of the ICB's hit me -much harder and much less forgiving than advertised.

          My Heart Started Racing

         My Breathing Became Shallow. 

         My Head Fogged.

                                       

                                  Judgment Fled.

 

         
  Seizing his moment, a certain young man with gray eyes caught me alone and made a direct proposition to add his kiss to my list. I'm sure he knew I had worn the damn shirt just to get him to kiss me-    I walked away from the night and straight into a relationship that managed to span over two years.


  One year ago, I looked across at the blinking alarm clock- an arm draped over me and pulling me against a warm front as the digital display displayed March 17. I think a part of me was in slight shock that a year later I was still very much  experiencing those peculiar symptoms of Irish Car Bombs.

My Heart Was Still Racing..

My Breathing Was Still Shallow...

My Head Had Yet To Clear....

My  Judgment Had Been Declared A Missing Person. 

          Seizing his moment, he pinched my arm and demanded my attention. I'm sure he knew I had been awake and as I pointed out it had been a year- he agreed and then pointed out I was also going to be late to class that day- I walked away from that morning and away from that relationship just a month later. 

    However, Irish Car Bombs are tricky bastards. The effects have yet to fall off- and I still find myself with a silly grin on my face- act like a fool and ignore all reasonable advice.

So, this St. Patrick's Day- as you pull on your green, throw back your beers, and consider the Irish Car Bomb as a way to truly celebrate this Nationality Day- I warn you- Beware.  The effects are potent, drugging, and addictive....

They feel a lot like love.