Immediately upon arriving I was surrounded by the most disgusting gingers imaginable. Yuck. Ewwww. Gross. I turned left, then right, then left again. I waded through a sea of freckles in search of dry, gingerless land that I could firmly plant my feet on.
This is how my weekend at the Chicago Celtic Festival began.
All in all, I had a very nice time spending the evening with my honey. I didn’t realize how lively, toe-tapping, make-you-want-to-dance kind of music it is. I’ve never really listened to Celtic music before. In the past I had listened to a couple minutes here and a couple minutes there of Riverdance and thought I had fulfilled my life quota but I was sorely mistaken. If it weren’t for the $7 beers I most definitely would have been drunk. It’s that kind of music that just isn’t fully appreciated without a tall glass of Guinness.
There was one stage that had performers dancing traditional dances and jigs. Wow! It is really incredible the way they can move their legs. I can only imagine how sex would be with someone who can move like that! My honey made a comment to me about how there is very little hip movement. “It sounds like the perfect dance for me!” Because anyone who knows me knows that my hips are permanently cemented in place.
My honey decided to get some fish and chips. Now, I’ve never quite understood (or, for some strange reason, liked) why they call fries chips. If fries are chips, then what are chips?! Anyway, apparently the traditional way to eat it is with malt vinegar. Gosh, I am so uncultured! It tasted okay. I’ve never really been much of a seafood eater so I couldn’t really tell you whether it was that good or not. But judging from the fact that it came from a street vendor I am pretty certain it wasn’t.
Afterwards, he and I spent a nice quiet evening at home watching one of his favorite movies (on VHS!) together as I fell asleep in his arms. It was the perfect ending to a beautiful night.
