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Nursed a hangover, watched the rugby, (fucking dissapointing, exciting though) refrained from contemplating my ethnic identity (100% Irish, but south dublin suburban which is a big nothing in the identity stakes).
Suspect its a matter of creating a coherent identity, trying to boil down to something that can be fit inside the head (I'm Irish. I'm a good person. I like chicken, but not that much). Not really a problem unless it gets out of hand. Fakeing an Irish accent on paddy's day fine. Funding the IRA not fine.
Also a bit of fun. Tacky, cheesy, mildly-irritating fun.
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