5 years before moving to Oregon, this is what we would do on Easter Eve. The morning of the first time, I was forced to call out drunk from Easter church with the boyfriend's parents. Did you know that barleywine can be about 12% alcohol? Imagine the festival. Split thy skull indeed! I soon had to start dating the boy I went to the event with, in order to not feel guilty. While I love Bloody Mary Easter brunch immensely, I loved Easter Eve for its professionalism. It was like taking back the night from all the other fake holidays: Fat Tuesday, St. Patrick's Day, Cinco de Mayo. Amateurs. Real Catholics get wasted on Holy Saturday!
Thank you Jesus!
(I'm a hypocrite because I can't wait to get up and drink mimosas with all the peeps, while singing all the tunes from "Jesus Christ Superstar". I need to end East vs. West rivalry and combine traditions...)