It snowed today in my parents' town, which is only a few hours north of mine.
As a child, snow was welcome any time of the year. Snow meant surprise, one-day vacations. It meant snow men and snow angels and snowball fights. It meant hot chocolate and warm blankets from the dryer. In my childhood, snow was even more precious because of its rarity; central North Carolina schools got more ice-storm days than snow days.
As an adult, snow is nice around Christmas, inconvenient before Thanksgiving, and downright atrocious before Halloween. I might add that Halloween isn't until this weekend. Even my town is calling for snow/rain mixes this week. Absurd.
Which leads me to my next question: what's the big concern with global warming? Last time I checked, snow belongs in winter, and this is still autumn. Daylight savings time hasn't even happened yet. So why the winter weather when we still should be enjoying mild days and piles of leaves? What happened to pumpkins and cider? Why are we already wearing scarves and mittens to tailgate parties and football games?
This year I decided that autumn is my favorite season (as opposed to the former favorite, summer). The weather is crisp in the morning and warm and pleasant during the day. The air smells wonderful because of the leaves and bonfires. It's not too muggy or too hot or too rainy. It's perfect. And now Mother Nature has taken that from us too early.
How selfish.
10.23.2008
Trick me, treat me.
I love Halloween. It is by far my favorite holiday of the year. I think that it is the least pretentious of them all; there is no hidden agenda, no double meaning, no contradiction. Halloween is a time to pretend and be afraid. And candy. That's it.
It isn't hypocritical like Christmas (a holiday about materialism and selfishness that masquerades as one about the birth of a deity and good will toward men), it isn't over-commercialized and sickly sweet like Valentine's Day (or worse yet, Sweetest Day...ugh), and it doesn't turn Christian salvation into an egg-hunting frenzy like at Easter. Halloween is, pure and simple, a time when you can get the living daylights scared out of you, dress up however you like and not get teased, and rot your teeth out with candy given to you by strangers. That's all. Even the basic history behind Halloween--the night when the souls of the dead walk the earth again among the living--is still part of the modern celebrations. Everywhere you look are haunted houses, corn mazes, cemeteries; everyone's obsessed with horror films and Ouija boards.
Pumpkins, jack-o-lanterns, clever men's costumes and sexy ladies' ones, fake spiderwebs, black and orange and purple everywhere you look. The leaves are turning and the air is crisp and cool, but not cold. Autumn--and consequently, Halloween--is the best time of the year, hands down.
Maybe the appeal, for me at least, lies in the part of Halloween that lets you pretend to be something you're not. Halloween can make you more daring, more brave, more sexy, more clever, more whatever you want to be. And there's no one to stop you or mock you for it, because everyone else is doing the same thing.
Spook me, scare me, trick me, treat me.
I'm ready for it.
It isn't hypocritical like Christmas (a holiday about materialism and selfishness that masquerades as one about the birth of a deity and good will toward men), it isn't over-commercialized and sickly sweet like Valentine's Day (or worse yet, Sweetest Day...ugh), and it doesn't turn Christian salvation into an egg-hunting frenzy like at Easter. Halloween is, pure and simple, a time when you can get the living daylights scared out of you, dress up however you like and not get teased, and rot your teeth out with candy given to you by strangers. That's all. Even the basic history behind Halloween--the night when the souls of the dead walk the earth again among the living--is still part of the modern celebrations. Everywhere you look are haunted houses, corn mazes, cemeteries; everyone's obsessed with horror films and Ouija boards.
Pumpkins, jack-o-lanterns, clever men's costumes and sexy ladies' ones, fake spiderwebs, black and orange and purple everywhere you look. The leaves are turning and the air is crisp and cool, but not cold. Autumn--and consequently, Halloween--is the best time of the year, hands down.
Maybe the appeal, for me at least, lies in the part of Halloween that lets you pretend to be something you're not. Halloween can make you more daring, more brave, more sexy, more clever, more whatever you want to be. And there's no one to stop you or mock you for it, because everyone else is doing the same thing.
Spook me, scare me, trick me, treat me.
I'm ready for it.
10.06.2008
This is why I get nothing important done.
Earlier today, and again five minutes ago, I had this overwhelming urge to finish my vignette/essay/short story/novel/whatever it will turn out to be. But earlier, I got distracted by an internship information session and just now, he sighed and rolled over in his sleep and made me consider how little sleep I get lately. How maybe, I should just let myself go to bed early tonight. And now I don't really feel like writing any more.
The problem is, there's this slightly restless energy tugging at the edge of my consciousness, and I know that the second I lie down and turn off the light I'll be completely incapable of sleep. Which will in turn make me more uptight and alert, which will either lead to a panic attack or (more likely), a very long, annoying, boring night of insomnia. Not the good, productive kind of insomnia, where one can't sleep and instead accomplishes all matter of tasks that couldn't be tackled during the day; no, it would be a frustrating insomnia, filled with tossing and turning and uselessness.Maybe I'll just turn on the TV and watch until I drift off...the keyboard and screen in front of me have already lost their third dimension, a sure sign that my brain is overworked.
I kind of like getting to this point, though. I can see my fingers flying delicately across the keys as my thoughts materialize in pixels. It's far preferable to writing with pen and paper, I think; it's faster to type and I don't have to make my brain slow down to meet the limitations of my body. As much. I just open up and let it all flow, a stream of consciousness from electrical mental processes to electrical technological reactions.
I'm babbling. Goodnight.
The problem is, there's this slightly restless energy tugging at the edge of my consciousness, and I know that the second I lie down and turn off the light I'll be completely incapable of sleep. Which will in turn make me more uptight and alert, which will either lead to a panic attack or (more likely), a very long, annoying, boring night of insomnia. Not the good, productive kind of insomnia, where one can't sleep and instead accomplishes all matter of tasks that couldn't be tackled during the day; no, it would be a frustrating insomnia, filled with tossing and turning and uselessness.Maybe I'll just turn on the TV and watch until I drift off...the keyboard and screen in front of me have already lost their third dimension, a sure sign that my brain is overworked.
I kind of like getting to this point, though. I can see my fingers flying delicately across the keys as my thoughts materialize in pixels. It's far preferable to writing with pen and paper, I think; it's faster to type and I don't have to make my brain slow down to meet the limitations of my body. As much. I just open up and let it all flow, a stream of consciousness from electrical mental processes to electrical technological reactions.
I'm babbling. Goodnight.
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