#81 is another item on the list that fell underneath the category of 'if I'm going to have the most epic year of my life this event needs to be included.' Two years ago the fella on the right, my best friend, Trevor Morin and I started our own tradition of celebrating St. Patrick's Day in Boston. It only took experiencing it one time to know we could never miss another one. Celebrating the holiday in Dublin had crossed my mind, but I thought continuing the tradition in Boston would be more fun, and that's what this year was about: fun. This was year 3, and as history had gone, they only get better and better.
The big St. Patrick's Day celebration in Boston is always around the Sunday parade in South Boston. What made this year more complicated than years past was that the actual holiday landed on a Saturday. Generally, it's sometime during the week, and people don't pay much attention to it. I relate it to Thanksgiving in the way that it's attached to a day, Thursday, and my St. Patrick's Day is always on a Sunday.
I took the train from Penn Station to South Station in Boston Friday night. My buddy Connor, one of Trevor's roommates, picked me up from the station. Usually, the routine is to go out Friday night for a regular dirty-fun Friday night with the Boston crazies. Since St. Patrick's Day was Saturday our friends, who we hadn't celebrated years past with, wanted to save themselves for a wake-up day of drinking. This year was already going against tradition, and I wasn't a fan. Trev and I attempted to explain that tomorrow was not the day.. even though it was the day.. it wasn't, you know what I'm saying? Anyway, we stayed in Friday night.
Saturday we woke up to a house full of green-wearing party-goers, friends of another one of Trev's roommates, that were over to start their holiday off right. Irish car bombs for breakfast, Guinness for lunch, all was fair game. Despite what was the popular opinion that day, Trev and I decided to stay true to our tradition, all invested on Sunday and drank enough that we could celebrate with the celebrators but not ruin our celebration. I was actually a bit nervous, I hadn't dealt with this predicament before and not getting wasted with our friends and proclaiming our love for the Irish for then Sunday to come around and be a big hungover bust sounded tragic. All I knew was my friend, Abby Hancock, apart of my beloved Hancock Family from #61 Go to a Patriots Game, had invited myself, Trev and any of our friends to attend her party at her apartment on Sunday.
See, the way the Sunday parade works is that you don't actually attend the parade. There's an unspoken responsibility for anyone who's apartment lands on the street the parade passes on to host a party. Abby had moved into a new apartment in South Boston, on the parade's path, and was not only living up to the responsibility, but she and roommates were outwardly ready to own the opportunity of hosting on this infamous day of dartying.
Sunday morning came, and it was time for Trev and me to consume our Irish Car Bomb breakfast, which is unusually delicious. As we were doing that the rest of the house was very slowly, very quietly (outside of a few verbal aches), trying to act human after their Saturday celebrations. Trev and I, and our three hungover and hurting pals, Tim, Connor, and Steve loaded in the Uber, alcohol in hand, and headed to South Boston hoping Abby and her party were more Me than they were Steve.
When we arrived we were very pleasantly surprised - the party was already partying. WE WERE IN BUSINESS.
Years past Trev and I had sort of apartment hopped around the parade to see other friends. This year was a collection of everyone I wanted to see under one roof, at the same time, so for the following 4-5 hours was spent right here in this living/dining/kitchen, and it was a blurry blast. Mo, one of Abby's friends, brother plays for the Boston College football team and brought some of his teammates along which were all in the mood to celebrate Saint Patrick like we all knew him personally.
The funny thing about this project is I'm setting out to do things I've been dying to do, things I think I would enjoy doing (or know I appreciate, like #81), and have been wanting to experience. Time and time again, item after item, I'm always reminded how much the people I'm doing it with emphasizes each, singular moment. I could just be going around crossing things off alone, but it's all about your people - your tribe.
Here are some pics of my tribe, so honored to know each one of them, and to experience their light and love in all moments... and to have them be apart of moments under Project87.
#81 Celebrate St. Patrick's day in Boston was an absolute blast and later capped off by Chipotle. What a day. What people. How lucky I am. See you next year, same time, Boston, when St. Patrick's Day falls ON parade Sunday. Hydration starts now.