Forget St. Patrick's Day, Bloomsday is a real Irish holiday.
All over Dublin (and everywhere else James Joyce is worshipped), celebrants relive the events of Leopold Bloom's life. (For those not in the know, Bloom is the fellow around whom Ulysses revolves.)
Now, I'll admit. I haven't read Ulysses but I have listened in on an out-loud reading of Finnegans Wake, a nonsensical trip through language. It's lovely and reading it alone is absolutely out of the question.
So, today, celebrate literature. Grab that Joyce you've been meaning to read off the shelf, take it into public and start reading! Bonus points if you do it dressed in tweed.