Restarting holidays


Image courtesy of Ewan Munro. Licensed under CC BY SA.

It’s been a weird year for holidays. My mom dying hastened a process that, I think, happens in a lot of families—once the current crop of kids in the family grow to adulthood, there’s a lull in holiday celebrations until the now-adult children begin to have kids of their own.

A quiet July Fourth bled into a quiet Christmas, which turned into a quiet New Year’s and Valentine’s Day and birthday (Thanksgiving, since it involves food, remained more or less untouched). It’s been fine, but not ideal—I like holidays, I like tradition, I like a socially-sanctioned occasion to have parties and wear fancy shoes and eat tiny foods.

As has been mentioned before, my youthful religious upbringing was spotty at best: I’m nominally Jewish, but grew up celebrating non-religious Christmas and Easter with one half of the family, with religious (but confusing) Hanukkah at Thanksgiving with the other half. I didn’t do seders as a child, but attended a college where religious life is a Thing. It didn’t matter that I’m an atheist—I spent college attending Passover seders and Holi color fights on the quad and Lessons and Carols performances at Christmas. I enjoyed it all. Continue reading

Spring has sprung


Image courtesy of Dean Ward. Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

This unceasing shitshow of a winter is finally, finally over. Y’all, I knew going into this year that it was going to be the Worst, but my issues managed to dovetail quite nicely with a winter that just Would Not Quit. It was like the MRSA of weather, teasing us with the potential of spring every Saturday only to be cold and grey and miserable the rest of the week. And it went on like a freshman comp student who doesn’t understand that maximum page limits exist for a reason.

Spring has sprung, and my fellow residents of the Ent city are ecstatic. Piedmont Park is full of families with lawn chairs and picnic baskets, Grant Park has bikers on their way to the farmer’s market, everyone’s patios are finally opened and I can only imagine that no one in Cabbagetown will leave their porches for the next three months. Driving through Midtown today, I saw two cute young dudes (one in a belly shirt and skinny jeans, the other sporting a v-neck and shorts) recognize each other from across the street—one ran and no-shit leapt into the others arms, and he carried the dude into Blake’s.

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