Apr. 16th, 2006

katallison: (Default)
Easter is not my favorite holiday, for a variety of reasons:

  • I can never remember what's open and what's not, and the pattern of open/not open makes no sense (Target: closed; Home Depot: open).

  • It annoys me considerably that things are closed for Easter to begin with, because after all it's religious holiday, and why should the Christian belief system keep me from being able to get groceries?? Weirdly, I don't feel the same annoyance about Christmas, because Christmas parses in my brain as a cultural/societal, rather than religious, holiday. This is even weirder because, although Christmas and Easter both are clearly cribbed from pre-existing pagan seasonal celebrations, Easter seems even more closely molded on that fecund pre-Christian substratum of death/rebirth rites and fertility/egg rituals and whatnot -- good grief, look at the scheduling of it in the liturgical calendar (first Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox, right?).

  • Also, I can never remember when the hell Easter is, and it is always sneaking up on me, and finding me with no food in the house and all the grocery stores closed.

  • And it is in spring, which is probably my least favorite season. (April = cruelest month = memory + desire, etc.)


This year, I dealt with Easter's aggravations by dint of retail therapy, going to Ikea (which WAS open) with my brother and sister-in-law, who'd never been there before. I am pleased to report that they both drank deeply of the Kool-Aid, and staggered out several hours later dazedly wheeling a trolley laden with all sorts of Swedish-monickered swag. Me, I snagged some extremely nice new dining-room chairs, with which I am finally, at LAST, replacing the ones that my mother bought at an unfinished furniture place back in the early '60s, and eventually passed on to me. (I don't know quite what to do with the old ones -- I'd feel like a monster just throwing them out, since they've been with me longer than most of you lovely people of the flist have been alive, but on the other hand they're kind of beat up and raggedy.)

Once home, I putzed around the house, doing laundry, re-coloring my hair, and I have a product encomium, cut away because it is of interest only to those of you who use hair dye... )

And I have been vastly enjoying the Ray/Fraser/Ray movement, and salute the brave women writing it -- threesomes are hard enough to write well and convincingly, even just because of the pronouns, let alone when two of the characters have the same name, and even furthermore when both of them would (in my own view of things) be unsurmountably pissed at sharing Fraser with the other. (I actually started drafting a R/F/R thing in my brain, which you can all be glad is going no further than vague mental outlining, because it was all about pain and guilt and resentment and loss and lots of other cheery things.)

Hm hm hmm. And now I think I shall go and watch some Blackadder.

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katallison

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