1. I'm Irish.
Growing up I was told that I was primarily Irish. It turns out I'm mostly Scottish. Corned beef and cabbage was served at family reunions. I wore green and orange shamrocks to school on St. Patrick's Day. I followed the troubles and hoped for peace. Confirmation of the Irish myth occurred in the early 80s after the family sent the wrong uncle to Ireland. He returned with "evidence" that the family had come from the Emerald Isle and that our family's name, orginally O'Eoroughin, not Irwin, had been changed at Ellis Island. I don't blame him. By the 1980s the Irish tourism industry was confident and mature. If someone wanted to be a part of the Irish story, then the Irish were happy to provide him with a family name, coat of arms, and a family tree with a warrior or two in it. In the early 2000s other, more sober, relatives did more research and discovered that the family came from Scotland. I've decided not to participate in family reunions until we discover our roots lie in India, Thailand, or Korean. I'm holding out for better food.
2. I'm allergic to tuna.
It turns out that I'm not allergic to tuna. This was more of a misunderstanding. My aunt is allergic to tuna. I heard the story wrong.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
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