St. Patrick's Day. A day where everyone pretends they're Irish and the wearin' o' the green is mandatory unless you want to get pinched, HARD.
Back in elementary school, my sisters and I were Campfire Girls. Being a Campfire Girl was fun. Once a month, (or was it once a week? I don't remember) you had your meeting and did crafts and sang songs and talked about how many Honor beads you earned and how to earn new Honor Beads and during the summer you went to Campfire Camp and oh! it was a lot of fun being a Campfire Girl.
Except for one day a year. Every year, on the birthday of the Campfire Girls, you were required to wear your "Service Costume," that's what the uniform was called, to school. And that day was March 17. That's right, St. Patrick's Day. A day you risked life and limb if you were not wearing green.
So on March 17, everyone in your school is wearing green in one form or another and everyone in your school is on the lookout for those who are NOT wearing green so that they could pinch them, HARD, because they were not wearing green and there I was, in my Red, White and Blue Campfire Girls Service Costume with nary a spot o' green anywhere on it.
So every year that I was an Elementary School Campfire Girl (I dropped out sometime around 5th grade) I dreaded having to go to school on March 17 because I would come home black and blue from being pinched, HARD, by all those green-wearing thugs at Hawaiian Elementary School.
One year I thought I'd be clever and pin a piece of green paper to the blouse of my Campfire Girl Service Costume but some little asshole thug said it didn't count and proceeded to pinch me, HARD. I like to think that that pinching thug is serving hard time at Pelican Bay while *I* am living a life of freedom as a blogger whose blog is read by less than two dozen people but he's probably a CEO of a some mega-corporation and is making millions while *I* am an self-employed (read: UN-employed) blogger whose blog is read by less than 2 dozen people and it's all because of friggin' Campfire Girls having their friggin' birthday on St. Patrick's Day.
I should have been a Girl Scout. THEY had green uniforms
and THEY wouldn't have been pinched, HARD, on St. Patrick's Day. Bitches.
Oh, Kelly.....this is, perhaps, your finest hour.......loved this blog! Brilliantly written, perfectly executed....what more can I say. I luv you.
ReplyDeleteWell, I always wanted to be a campfire girl and NOT a girl scout. I was a girl scout and my neighbor was a campfire girl and she used to tell me she couldn't tell me anything that went on within the Campfire circles because it was super secret. I just wanted to be a part of that mystery so badly.
ReplyDeleteAnd, if you think about it, the pinching is really a very sadistic tradition. My grandmother only spoke Gaelic and came over on the boat and she was as mean as a snake. Maybe there's something to that pinching.
Lo, thank you so much for all of your kind comments. You are wonderful.
ReplyDeleteJoann, whoever came up with the pinching part needs to be bitchslapped, HARD.
And I wanted to be a Girl Scout because of the cookies and the sash and badges but my mom wouldn't let me jump ship.