My sister and I made great time to Milwaukee only to find 50% of their inner city freeway system under construction. This might not have been a problem if sis had brought directions to the hotel. "Holly? Did you print directions?" Holly: "oh yeah...I knew I forgot something." We spent the next 20 minutes driving north, then south, on every street BUT Astor. We did eventually bump into the hotel. "oh yeah...this is where it is."'s difficult to believe we share the same genetics at times.

It was obvious the entire city of Milwaukee had decided County Clare was THE place to spend St Pat's. Because we were guests of the hotel we were afforded little luxuries those off the street would not be treated to. Valet parking: I don't even want to know where they parked the car. Ignorance is bliss. I handed over the keys hoping some crack addict wouldn't see the half eaten sandwich in the back seat as an invitation.

We were checked in by a young woman who felt faking an irish accent would give guests an authentic feel. Little tip: when pretending to be irish with guests it might be best if in the next breath you don't turn to a fellow employee and answer their question in your usual nasal midwest tone. Just a thought.

The room was gorgeous and beyond expectations. Holly summed it up immediately when she turned to me and said, "This sure would be a great room if we were in love."

On to the best part: The party.
We listened to irish bands, drank room temp beer, quizzed men with kilts on underwear preferences, taunted people off the street who had to use porta potties, choked down dry corned beef sandwiches, used female charms to cut in lines, batted our eyelashes at hunky Milwaukee police men in kilts, spoke in tongues after our second shot of irish whiskey, toasted friends who couldn't possibly make the party and had no clue what they were missing, sang at the top of our lungs with 20 of our newest pals, had drunken tete a tete's over why it's so great we are sisters, and vowed there is no way in hell we are missing this party next year.

Corned beef sandwiches: six dollars
Romantic hotel room with jakuzzi: One hundred-fifty dollars
Feeling men up under kilts with your sister: Priceless