I don't care if you are Saint Patrick himself, my body is off limits and if you try to pinch me I will be horribly displeased and will not be held responsible for the violence that will ensue.

Okay, so I know I said I didn't have anything to blog about approximately 15 minutes ago. But then I received an email from YL saying that we should be sure to wear green tonight in honor of Saint Patrick's day.

I hate. Hate. HATE. This holiday.

I have like, seven green things I could wear, because green is one of my favorite colors. But all of them are dirty because I like, do something weird where I wear the clothes I like more than the clothes I don't like.

So all of my green clothes, with the exception of an enormous wool sweater, are dirty.

It costs $5 for me to do laundry. I am not spending $5 on a half load of clothes just to appease some fanatical Irishmen, okay?

This is not Ireland. This is America.

Saint Patrick's Day is not American.

Don't pinch me.

There is nothing worse than being pinched. I don't care what you say.

I would rather have my fingernails pulled out one at a time than have someone pinch me.

I wish I could explain to you the surge of hatred and the adrenaline rush I feel when someone's fingers close over my skin in this specific way.

The rage I feel is somewhat akin to how a mother bear feels when you approach her cubs.

It makes me want to take someone's head off.

If you see me today and you pinch me, I will not be speaking to you for the next week.

So if you don't want to talk to me I guess pinching would be a good idea.

Anyway, I have to go straighten my hair.

Oh, also...I just blow dried my hair and now my room looks smokey? I feel like this is not a normal part of the blow drying process.

Hmmmm....

Okay bye.