Michael Flatley's Love Child

I'm dancing a jig right now, wearing green, drinking Guinness, and rooting for Notre Dame.  I really and truly do love ALL things Irish.  This passionate and senseless devotion is rooted in absolutely nothing.  I am not Irish.  I don't have any allegiance to anything Irish- school, sport, or person.  And yet I will get in a knife fight to the death, in a dark alley, defending any of my fair-skinned comrades.  Maybe it all goes back to Lucky Charms.  I'm really not sure.  All I can say is I AM LORD OF THE  DANCE. 

All kidding aside, I am semi-dead-serious.  I eat, sleep, and breathe the Dance.  Michael Flatley is my hero and I want him to carry my love child.  Presently, if not for the restraining order, that would be one of the first things checked off on my bucket list:  17.  Have Michael Flatley's love child.  Once upon a time, in my younger years, I think I was actually scouted for a role in Lord of the Dance.  I don't want to brag, and I am not sure it was a leading role or anything, but it was kind of a big deal.  And to be clear, I am not entirely sure I WAS scouted, but you could imagine if I was right?  And by all that I mean that I was not scouted and all, but, did in fact attend a production of Riverdance and wore my own Rachel brand of riverdance shoes with my formal attire.  You just never know when you might find yourself sitting watching, clapping, singing, crying (yes I said singing,) along to Micheal's beautiful display of musical, dancing prowess (I thought the crying might have escaped you, but yes, I said crying,) when lo, and behold, SNIPED, you have been ambushed.  There is a scout in the audience and he or she is looking for new, raw, young, REAL talent to join the troupe.  And because of that incredibly unlikely and obviously not possible, yet all too real scenario, I did indeed sit amongst the commoners attending the show, only to be caught at a moment's notice dancing my heart out there in my seat, my feet but a mere appendage with a mind and rhythm all their own. 

Whether it's been preparing for my debut, or simply exhibitioning my skills as a riverdancer in small productions in my apartment or in the hallway of an adjoining dorm, possibly jigging it up with all my heart 100% sober through an Irish pub (purely hypothetical) I have always felt and lived the music.  I think I am Irish.  I wish I was Irish.  Maybe I am Irish.  All I know is I vehemently support and cheer for Notre Dame and I know nothing about them.  I actually drove to the campus one time on a spur of the moment several hour road trip with my BFF who shall remain nameless because I don't want Susan's name dragged through the mud...she is about to get married and she has a lot going on, the least of which is defending her choices to drive 6 hours to an Irish college campus, just to look at it and walk through the chapel because of my love for the Irish. 

Green is my favorite color.  I used to draw freckles all over my face and wish for red hair.  I love Lucky Charms.  I think there really is gold at the end of the rainbow and that leprechauns are not only real, but representative of my homeland.  One day I will return to the motherland, and by that, I mean I am actually a native of Michigan and not only wasn't born in Ireland, but have never been even close to visiting, yet one day I WILL return.  You do the math on that.  I don't know what else to say so I'm peacing out because I am annoying myself.  Please disregard all of the above.