Tuesday evening there were four other people at my second Irish class, including someone from Pakistan, but we didn’t do introductions so I can’t explain her interest in the language. (We did learn how to ask where a person is from, so that’s how I know her point of origin.) Maybe pure linguistic curiosity? Then I hurried to the Old Fashioned to join the single B-Boy for his second birthday party, since we had one for him on Sunday. I was the only double-X chromosome there; Travalon, Cecil Markovitch, Prairie Man, and Richard Bonomo were the other attendees. The B-Boy hadn’t known we were going to do this, so he had already eaten and resisted Cecil’s attempts to get him to order more food than a cup of beer cheese soup, garnished with popcorn. I had a pumpkin beer, of course. Remember that Sunday is National Pumpkin Day! I plan to celebrate by indulging in lots of pumpkin-flavored food and drink. It was very loud in the Old Fashioned, so conversing was somewhat difficult. Cecil tore up his receipt and made confetti to dump over the B-Boy’s head, then he left so the B-Boy had to clean it up himself. Happy Birthday! On Sunday Cecil had given him more serious gifts than usual, a book and a DVD about St. Francis, so I thought maybe he was mellowing with age. However, that confetti trick proves he is still his usual mischievous self, thank goodness.