It's all over my Facebook feed again, people annoyed at Christmas pictures, music and commercials popping up before Thanksgiving. The extreme vexation this causes people is always surprising to me. (There are some rather seriously violent rebuttal cartoons!)
Don't get me wrong, I hate seeing Christmas shopping commercials in early November. Now I'm stressing over getting gifts before I've even chosen what dish I'm making for Thanksgiving dinner. Neither do I particularly like hearing Christmas music while there are still days over 70 degrees. (I live in Maryland. We get snow around Christmas time.) The worst part of the whole thing are the stores preying on customer emotions. It's manipulative and yes, annoys me.
However, stores only play Christmas music and set up oversized glitter bells because people respond. But why do people respond? Why are my college friends posting pictures of their Christmas lights on Nov 1st? Why did a friend of the family post a picture today of her Christmas tree? (Hopefully either it's fake, or she has fifteen smoke alarms in the house and fire extinguishers in every bedroom.)
So I debated the matter while I waited on the water to boil for pasta dinner. My conclusion? In my opinion, people yearn for Christmas because they want to be happy. We can all agree, life is often hard. It's stressful. For many people Christmas brings happy memories, parties, vacations, and time with friends and family. No wonder they want to get to that time as soon as possible!
Or maybe it's just the hope that this year they'll be as happy as all the people in the movies and on Facebook appear. Of course we know the studies show Christmas is one of the most stressful times of the year, and people may feel they've failed when they aren't as joyous as they think they should be. Either way, the possibility for extra happiness abounds. So of course people are excited.
Those who get bent out of shape about Christmas showing up early? I'm not sure about their irkiness. Maybe Christmas stresses them out and they don't want to think about it. Maybe religiously they find Christmas offensive. Maybe they hate seeing people happy before the "proper" time. Maybe they're bitter about the emotional pressure Christmas brings. Who knows. That's going to be another thought for another day.
In the meantime, I refuse to get on the bandwagon of hating on people who celebrate Christmas as soon as possible. You do you and take your happiness where you can get it.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Why is "getting out of the house" so important?
Since I quit my job last May and implemented my "Agatha Christie" plan (becoming a writer) people have been giving me ideas on how to "get me out of the house". Perhaps I should have a part time job, or volunteer more? (I already volunteer once a week at a local acupuncture place.)
My question is why? It used to be if you held up in your home and didn't see anyone, but your cats and books, you would become disconnected from society and perhaps depressed, since the majority of people are social creatures at heart.
While we can discuss whether or not that would have been the case 20 years ago, in this day and age it's not particularly a problem for me. With the internet I am able to talk to multiple people a day, and night for that matter. Even make friends. If you're one of the people who feel a friendship isn't real unless you've touched each other: 1. It's most likely you grew up before electronic contact between people was the norm, so it may not be comfortable for you. 2. Feel free to define your friendships differently than me. Still, I do have friends and family I love, and see face to face several times a week. Trivia night, football parties and game nights for starters. For someone of my introverted nature that is more than enough.
Let us not forget I am married to a marvelous man, who works from home, and if I had to see anyone he would be my choice in the first place. So I have to say I couldn't be happier with my little corner of the world. I appreciate the concern, but different strokes for different folks is probably the best answer.
Finally, and somewhat along those lines, going outside involves interacting with large groups of people and wearing a bra. Why would I want to do either more than I have to?
My question is why? It used to be if you held up in your home and didn't see anyone, but your cats and books, you would become disconnected from society and perhaps depressed, since the majority of people are social creatures at heart.
While we can discuss whether or not that would have been the case 20 years ago, in this day and age it's not particularly a problem for me. With the internet I am able to talk to multiple people a day, and night for that matter. Even make friends. If you're one of the people who feel a friendship isn't real unless you've touched each other: 1. It's most likely you grew up before electronic contact between people was the norm, so it may not be comfortable for you. 2. Feel free to define your friendships differently than me. Still, I do have friends and family I love, and see face to face several times a week. Trivia night, football parties and game nights for starters. For someone of my introverted nature that is more than enough.
Let us not forget I am married to a marvelous man, who works from home, and if I had to see anyone he would be my choice in the first place. So I have to say I couldn't be happier with my little corner of the world. I appreciate the concern, but different strokes for different folks is probably the best answer.
Finally, and somewhat along those lines, going outside involves interacting with large groups of people and wearing a bra. Why would I want to do either more than I have to?
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Adult Reading
Somehow in life I've ended up with a group of highly intelligent, thoughtfully well informed friends. Trust me, this is not a "like attracts like"scenario. I find the news depressing and politics infuriating. However, I'm also aware it's important I'm mindful of, and knowledgable about, both. Thanks to a few excellent online newsletters and, if I don't get cocky, I come across reasonably informed on current events and politics.
The one area I've always failed in though is literature.
Ironically I'm a literature major. I read, and appreciated, many of the greats in college. That was it though. When I graduated I swore I would never read another depressing, cynical, heart wrenching, vodka inducing story again. And I haven't.
I have never read a book that made it onto NPR, a famous talk show or New York Times reading list. Which is fine by me. When everyone else was discussing Life of Pi or The Sixth Extinction I happily congratulated myself on, yet again, avoiding a depressing couple of evenings. Tuppence Beresford and Ms Fisher would never lead me so astray.
Lately though I've begun to wonder if I shouldn't at least make an effort to find well written and informative books I can enjoy. With that in mind I followed up on a suggestion from my father-in-law to read So We Read On by Maureen Corrigan, a critique of Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Out of all my reading in high school and college The Great Gatsby had been my favorite of the Paxil supporting stories. (For those of you who find it uplifting, you are a better person than I am.)
So yay for me, I'm half way through and may even finish it. In fact, last night I had opportunity to bring my reading up in conversation and I have to admit, it felt pretty good.
Now I just have to keep track of who I've already mentioned it to...
The one area I've always failed in though is literature.
Ironically I'm a literature major. I read, and appreciated, many of the greats in college. That was it though. When I graduated I swore I would never read another depressing, cynical, heart wrenching, vodka inducing story again. And I haven't.
I have never read a book that made it onto NPR, a famous talk show or New York Times reading list. Which is fine by me. When everyone else was discussing Life of Pi or The Sixth Extinction I happily congratulated myself on, yet again, avoiding a depressing couple of evenings. Tuppence Beresford and Ms Fisher would never lead me so astray.
Lately though I've begun to wonder if I shouldn't at least make an effort to find well written and informative books I can enjoy. With that in mind I followed up on a suggestion from my father-in-law to read So We Read On by Maureen Corrigan, a critique of Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Out of all my reading in high school and college The Great Gatsby had been my favorite of the Paxil supporting stories. (For those of you who find it uplifting, you are a better person than I am.)
So yay for me, I'm half way through and may even finish it. In fact, last night I had opportunity to bring my reading up in conversation and I have to admit, it felt pretty good.
Now I just have to keep track of who I've already mentioned it to...
Saturday, October 10, 2015
I'm busy.. for the next 12 Sundays
I'm a huge football fan. I was raised on it, taught my friends about it, and watched it whenever and wherever possible. This includes all vacations, my first weekend away with hubby (then boyfriend) and our honeymoon in St Thomas. A football game was the first place I met most of my husband's extended family, and it was after a playoff game he told my parents he was going to marry me.
About three years ago my husband's aunt and uncle realized all of us were texting each other during the Raven's games. So why not watch together and save ourselves time and carpal tunnel? Since then we (aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, siblings, bridge club members) get together for football, catch up and share food whenever the Ravens are playing. (i.e. every Sunday September through December.)
Oddly I've found this difficult for the rest of my social life. Sunday brunch? Sure! At 8am. Cheap pool at Frazier's Sunday evening? I'll rack if you break, in January. People don't seem to take it well when you explain you'd essentially rather watch a sport than spend time with them.
Still, what can I say? I love these times. I love the group cheers and group cussing. I love watching people grow older, marry, add new family to the group. I love the teasing, the arguments about which players are worth the hype. I love watching those dragged along learn to understand the game. I love staying connected to people I care deeply about. Oh yes, I love football.
About three years ago my husband's aunt and uncle realized all of us were texting each other during the Raven's games. So why not watch together and save ourselves time and carpal tunnel? Since then we (aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, siblings, bridge club members) get together for football, catch up and share food whenever the Ravens are playing. (i.e. every Sunday September through December.)
Oddly I've found this difficult for the rest of my social life. Sunday brunch? Sure! At 8am. Cheap pool at Frazier's Sunday evening? I'll rack if you break, in January. People don't seem to take it well when you explain you'd essentially rather watch a sport than spend time with them.
Still, what can I say? I love these times. I love the group cheers and group cussing. I love watching people grow older, marry, add new family to the group. I love the teasing, the arguments about which players are worth the hype. I love watching those dragged along learn to understand the game. I love staying connected to people I care deeply about. Oh yes, I love football.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
HumpFest!
So this last Friday night my husband and I went to an amateur porn film festival called HumpFest. A friend invited us and, hell, I've never been to a porn film festival, so why not right?
Which brings us to Friday night and me staring at my closet. What exactly does one wear to an amateur porn film festival? After tossing aside the mini skirt and 6" heels, I ended up opting for night-on-the-town look with just a touch of leather in a choker and cuff. It's hard to find that sweet spot of "I'm edgy enough to be perfectly comfortable watching porn with a room full of strangers, but not so edgy I do this every night."
On the way there hubby and I hypothesized on what kind of people, besides apparently us, go to an amateur porn film festival. Would it be mostly college age kids? Perhaps sad looking men in their sixties? Artistic types who see sex as the ultimate art form?
The first floor of the building is a Belgium beer hall, so we went up the stairs, through a set of double doors, and down a well lit hallway. At the end of which was a small group of people dressed in a lot of black. The females had perfectly winged eyeliner. (I find his intimidating as I'm pretty sure it's a skill you only obtain after deals with Satan.)
It wasn't the gallery though, and we were directed around the corner into a hallway not as brightly lit, with blank walls and threadbare carpet. At the end was a narrow staircase leading up to a dimly lit landing. Well, I couldn't say I hadn't been prepared. My ever supportive husband just grinned and motioned me up the stairs.
As it turns out there's a very cute art gallery space up those stairs. Currently showcasing tastefully erotic art. Everyone milling around the room looked just like everyone milling about on the street below. Not a single creepy or judgmental person in the bunch.
In the end the films were creative and funny. The audience appreciative and relaxed. I'm really looking forward to my next porn festival.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
I realize I'm that kid in the beginners class that is way older than anyone else
My friends all have kids. The latest social media apps take far too long for me to figure out. Favorite songs from college are popping up on "vintage" radio stations. Still, I'm still routinely up till 2am drinking my 2nd, or maybe 3rd, glass of wine tripping around the internet and debating if 10am is too early to be at the gym.
God I love my life, but at 40 I suddenly realize I'm the odd woman out. My social life revolves between nights of binge drinking cheap alcohol with friends in their 20s, and fine dining dinners planned weeks in advance with my age concurrent friends who are constantly checking their phones for babysitter updates and dozing off in their organic apple salad at 9pm.
How did I get here? Where exactly is here?? What is my next move???
God I love my life, but at 40 I suddenly realize I'm the odd woman out. My social life revolves between nights of binge drinking cheap alcohol with friends in their 20s, and fine dining dinners planned weeks in advance with my age concurrent friends who are constantly checking their phones for babysitter updates and dozing off in their organic apple salad at 9pm.
How did I get here? Where exactly is here?? What is my next move???
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)