Sunday, April 12, 2009

Happy Easter/ressurection day/spring/income tax finally in my account/whatever you'd like to call it-day!

I've been so busy that I almost forgot this whole thing existed. Sorry....

Went out today to eat dinner for a holiday that, unlike the others which clutter and clog the calendar, doesn't really hold it's own, not like when you were a kid. There are other holidays which lend themselves to children, such as Christmas, but can adapt to adult hood quite well. Easter is not one of them. Forgive me for trying to ruin the egg hunt for all the little Whos in Whoville, I just can't feel even an inkling of the same fondness I felt when I was young. I remember the egg hunts and the HOME MADE ham dinners along with a whole day of fun before the night would usher in the last cold grasps of a losing winter while I felt that dread, the dread that would accompany any childs Sunday night...the looming presence of school the next day. You couldn't escape it. At some point it would creep in, when people started to leave the festivities, their car doors closing like a casket. You would begin to realize that it was around four o'clock and soon it would be six, then seven, then nine and bedtime. I would hate that feeling almost as much as I hated the way it would permeate the day and cause all the fun to be drained. My father would always tell me not to focus on it, to just enjoy what was going on at that moment but I couldn't and I still to this day can't.
I hate going to resturants to eat holiday dinners. It's impersonable and the waitstaff shouldn't be at work, they should be with their family suffering like the rest of us. Hearing god awful stories about people we've never met along with trivial knowledge and pointless gripes. Half the old family is gone and the "replacements" (ie: my cousins) are not even close to those we once sat with through all those meals gone awry. Nobody laughs like my step-mother or yells like my great vavo or tells stories like my great grandmother. I'd give anything to 'suffer' like I used to, trying to find eggs (while secretly letting my younger sister get the ones I found) and hear those stories again, just one last time.
While I generally have a habit of thinking backwards at most holidays there's something in the present that anchors me and makes me feel that same happiness felt long ago...this holiday isn't one with such an anchor.
The best thing that happened was working on writing while watching an amazing artist work her magic. I only wish I had half her talent. In that respect it was a good day.
Trying to find work using my voice for either on air broadcasting or voice over work. Been told numerous times that I'd have better luck being struck by lightning after which Jesus hands me a Wonka Bar which just happens to have a golden ticket buuuut I know I have the perfect voice for it and just need to keep trying.

2 comments:

  1. I'm really surprised; I thought I'd commented already! Well, plate 'o wonka bar, I think you should go for it. Keep trying.

    And in the spirit of family traditions, I've been thinking...

    At least over my way, it has all fallen to us, our generation. With neither parent left, and with children abounding, it's up to us now to create and uphold traditions. We can choose to purposefully endeavor in this way. Or we can let the currents of life take control. However, even if we put no real effort into it, whatever transpires will still become the adult childhood memories of those who are small now. And what about us? Don't we deserve some good times, which beget more good times?

    I really enjoy reading your nostalgic memories. Let's get inspired by those times, to create... new moments worthy of remembrance?

    Hope you are doing well. Keep writing!

    :)

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  2. Voice work is one of my dreams, too... thanks to the Futurama commentaries (which are always amazing). I pretty much wish I was Tress Macneille.

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