Everyone is Irish on St. Paddy’s, but I drank more like a Russian that night. We sat in a circle and took shots of vodka like it was the only liquid in the world that could sustain us. I lined up nine shots and put them away professionally. I was ready to enjoy my life and I knew booze would get me there. But sitting around with nine shots of petroleum disguised as vodka, I was disappointed in my lack of buzz and made my way downstairs for a smoke.