The big desk calendar I have has St. Patrick’s Day listed as Monday, March 17th.

Here’s a shock: a day celebrating an Irish Saint, primarily by drinking, and the calendar has it listed on the wrong day.

Wait, what, you say? Saint Patty’s Day is always March 17th!

Unless you’re Catholic and March 17th happens to be within Holy Week (the week leading up to the holiest of days: Easter). In that situation, St. Patty’s Day gets moved. So, if you were planning on going out to celebrate tonight … you’re three days too late. Catholics celebrated Friday.

So, when someone asks you how you’re celebrating St. Patty’s Day, remember to tell them, “Celebrating? Present tense? ‘Cuz, um, it was last Friday, dude.”

When I got back to Baltimore County Friday night, I was exhausted … and hungry. I stopped at Bruce Lee’s for an order of General Tso’s chicken, and bulldozed through it before collapsing in bed around 10:30pm. Today, I found the fortune from the cookie abandoned on the carpet.

I know that fortune cookie fortunes are generic enough so that anyone can read into them what they like, still, it seemed somewhat fitting: “Friends long absent are coming back to you.” Kinda fitting since part of the reason I wanted to move back to the DC area was to connect with friends I’ve lost touch with. (Plus, the whole awesome public transportation thing).