What a difference a year makes.

Last year on St. Patrick's Day, Claire and I spent a good part of our evening celebrating with friends at our favorite Northfield, Minnesota hangout, the Contented Cow. We were raucous and loud and in jolly good spirits (also consuming some jolly good spirits), glad to be warm and insulated from the Minnesota winter outside. I remember late in the night as I sat with Claire, Jana, and a green frog lamp, rousing one boisterous cheers after the next. Highdee-Highdee Hoe!!!

Fast forward a year. We're not in Northfield anymore, so I don't think we'll be going to the Cow to pursue this year's greened festivities. We're in San Francisco, the sun is warming me as I write, and the only thing on our street as prevelant as the asian restuarants are the Irish pubs. Jana is gone as well; she's in Bangkok, where all the Irishmen wear backpacks, lather themselves with spf 100, and probably still drink Guiness whenever they can find it. At least that green frog lamp is still back in Northfield...

In the past year, Claire and I... well if you're reading this, then you probably know what the last year has looked like for us. If you don't know, we've been all around this world and are back in the Bay Area (check the archive section to fill in the gaps).

So here we are, one year later. I don't think we'll be celebrating this year's holiday quite as aggressively as last year's. We're more grownup now, one year older and wiser. And Claire does, after all, have a test to take in the morning.

But then, again, that test isn't til the morning. And what else are we going to do on a St. Patrick's friday night surrounded by Irish Pubs?

What a difference a year makes...