sláinte. 'nuff said.

Cleaning.  Packing. Cleaning and packing.  And when I'm tired of cleaning and packing, I clean and pack more just for fun.

This morning as I was cleaning and packing, the doorbell rang.  I irritatingly answered the door as it was our postman.  He said I needed to sign for this package and I obliged.

I held the smallish envelope in my hand and read the return address.  My heart starts pounding, I immediately start to shake.  I tear it open as the breath catches in my chest.

There lying in the palm of my sweaty hands I see them.  And they're so pretty.  My Celtic Thunder tickets are in my possession.  MY possession! And I see the wristband that gets me into the Meet and Greet cocktail hour before the show. 

And then I see where I am to be seated...2nd ROW CENTER. 

You have GOT to be kidding. 

I start screaming as the kids are looking at me with puzzlement.  I am jumping up and down.  What a sight it must have been! I am shaking uncontrollable and giggling like a crazy person.  I yell at the kids to get their shoes on, we have to run an errand.  I fly over to my sister's house and flew up the stairs yelling all the way.  (while the kids were still getting out of the van, leaving all doors open, of course)

I gave her HER ticket and we sat there, at the top of the stairs screaming and yelling and shaking.  I am COVERED with goosebumps.  I can HARDLY wait. 

I will meet two of the guys in person.  Get one things autographed.  The letter enclosed requested that the fans NOT kiss nor grab the guys.  Their words not mine. 

I hope I get to meet Keith...he's my favorite.

Ashley's favorite is Neil.  He's kinda cute too.

During the meet and greet, I'm totally going to floor them with my gaelic.  I know like 3 words.  I will raise my glass and say, "SLAINTE!" (pronounced "slon-cha")

That outta get me some attention, don't you think?