Listen to this playlist: Awkward Guilty Pleasure Playlist
Author Archives: Lashawn
Season One, Episode Twenty-Three: Breaking It Down Semi-Glee Style
So if you’ve been reading my blog lately, you will have seen the love/hate relationship I have with a certain Lana Del Rey. I can’t stand her voice and I think she’s a particularly shitty singer (Google her SNL performance and you’ll get what I mean), and yet I can’t stop listening to her stuff. She’s definitely a guilty pleasure that I really would feel uncomfortable sharing in the presence of other people. Which brings me to my delightful Chasing Lala Facebook page question of the day:
I got twelve songs from my fabulous followers to create an awkward guilty pleasure playlist, and with the aid of Playlist.com, I created a fully listenable mix for you to crank up in solitary pleasure. I’ll list the songs below 🙂
Awkward Guilty Pleasure Playlist:
1. “Video Games”, Lana Del Rey
The song that started it all.
2. “Control”, Missy Elliot featuring Ciara
DeLaina says: Haha uh probably Missy Elliot’s Control. (You know the one ft Ciara) I haven’t heard it in a while but if I did, I would blast it. As long as I was alone. Lmao.
3. “Pumped Up Kicks”, Foster The People
Christina says: Pumped Up Kicks by Foster The People. That song is awful and yet I love it.
4. “Candy”, Mandy Moore
I said: Mine is “Candy” by Mandy Moore. I love that song, but I will never openly admit it.
5. “MMMBop”, Hanson
LeAnn says: Mmm bop by Hanson. It takes me back to my childhood, but I would be embarrassed to rock out to it with people around, lol.
6. “Control”, Janet Jackson
Cressie says: Control…Janet Jackson…93.1 Michael Baisdens like obsessed with her lol.
7. “Toxic”, Britney Spears
Jennifer says: Uhmmm ok I will admit it I have one guilty pleasure song and I can’t figure out why because I don’t like her music–Britney Spears’ “Toxic”.
8. “Hips Don’t Lie”, Shakira
Jessica says: Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira. Hahaha! That’s my workout song that I only listen to alone.
9. “Sexy And I Know It”, LMFAO
Allison chose this song.
10. “Safety Dance”, Men Without Hats
Brad chose this song.
11. “I’m the Only One”, Melissa Etheridge
and
12. “Let Her Cry”, Hootie and the Blowfish
Hannah says: Without a shadow of a doubt…”I’m the Only One” by Melissa Etheridge, and “Let Her Cry” by Hootie. Two nights ago, I actually sat in the Staples parking lot for 3 minutes while listening to the latter, there was no way I was getting out of my car with that gem on the radio!
Enjoy 🙂
(If for some reason the player doesn’t load, just click “pop-out player” and the player will load in another tab.)
Season One, Episode Twenty-Two: Musings of the Unemployed and Adorkable
It’s been like a week and a half since I got fired, and while it hasn’t been as horrible as I thought it would be, I have discovered a few things about being unemployed that I thought I should share with you. Since I love making inane lists, I figured I would bust out my deep introspectiveness out on y’all that way.
Enjoy.
Things That I Didn’t Exactly Know About Myself Until I Lost My Job, Version 1.0 (Because I’m pretty certain that there will be more editions as the time goes by):
*I am pretty lazy. I actually kinda sorta knew this about myself, but not having a job to apply myself to has really brought out the lazy side of me. I’m sure some may argue that my sudden laziness and sleepiness could be depression from my firing manifesting itself, but I’m just going with I’m inherently lazy. I slept for like 15 hours the other day. In two evenly spaced increments of time…I think I got up to gather my laundry in a sleepy, stumbly fashion at noonish, and then proceeded to lay back down and sleep til 5 pm. And I think I was momentarily confused as to why it was so dark, realized what time it was, said “eh” and got up to go deep fry some mini tacos.
…which brings me to another thing I’ve learned about myself.
*I eat. A LOT. Several times a day, as a matter of fact. I kinda knew that I had a big appetite, but back in the days when I had a job, general lack of morale and the crushing sadness of doing inane work made me forget that I was hungry. Now that I’m unemployed, I do stuff like sleep half the day and then get up and deep fry some Jose Ole mini tacos in my deep fryer and read the Steve Jobs biography. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained weight in the past week and a half.
Mmm...Damn you, Jose Ole Mini Tacos. You're a tiny calorie-laden bomb of deliciousness.
*I really have no concrete sense of time. Since I don’t really have a structured day except for when I go to casino class, I pretty much have blurred the line between night and day. I have stayed up until sunrise a few times in the past week. I’ve woken up after sunset a few times as well. I might have been a Cullen in a past undead life.
*I have a pretty persuasive mind, that if taken into the wrong hands could very well be used for evil. Like I listened to Lana Del Rey on iTunes and couldn’t decide if I liked her or not, so I Hulu‘ed her horribly awkward performance on Saturday Night Live and thought she was a crap singer. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her song “Blue Jeans” and wound up talking myself into buying a few songs even though I think she is pretty awful. I listened to them a few times and I was like “god, she is horrible” and then my mind was like “is she really, Lashawn? Perhaps you should listen again”. And so I did.
Oh, Lana, I know you are terribly mediocre singer, but there is just SOMETHING about you that makes me go "hmm...I have to listen to you again".
*I read. A LOT. I mean, I know I read a lot, I pride myself on my superb love of all things literary. I learned to read at three and a half, reading is pretty much an intrinsic part of me just as much as my love of music or cheese. But I didn’t know that I will pretty much read anything, good or bad. I blame it on my persuasive mind (see above notation). I also think it might have to be partly due to the crushing boredom that is starting to sink in. I spent four hours on Wikipedia tonight, reading about random shit and random tangents that I clicked on in the originally random article I started four hours earlier. I think I’m gonna have to dust off my library card before my brain starts oozing out of my ears from lack of superb reading material.
*I like the idea of exercising, but I don’t actually like to do it. I think that I might have to talk myself into liking it though, if my thoughtless eating and laziness continues. I don’t want to be the girl that gained 65 pounds after she lost her job. That just seems like the beginning of a very slippery slope that could lead to some pretty serious repercussions. It’s time to bust out my free weights and my Gazelle and the Pilates DVDs I bought a few years back. And that Women’s Health book of 584546846 exercises that I got on a fitness kick.
I get a pretty good workout on my Gazelle, but Tony Little makes me giggle.
Season One, Episode Twenty-One: Pursuing That Next Chapter
“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one.”
How true. I’ve been through a tumult of changes over the past few weeks that I hope will lead to a better, brighter Lashawn. I’m feeling pretty introspective and energized 🙂
First off, I lost my job Saturday. It is what it is, I’m not going to go into specifics as to who, what, when, where, why, and/or how. I just think it’s pretty cathartic to be gone from the dealership because I was honestly miserable there and I feel so much better now that I’m, for lack of a better description, free. I feel amazing. I’m sure I really shouldn’t, since I no longer have a regular paycheck or whatever, but I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. It’s been a long time since I felt legitimately happy…no more migraines, no more popping ibuprofen just to get through my work day, no more sick feeling in my stomach…It’s great. I already applied for unemployment and filed my taxes, so I’ll be okay financially for a while.
Which leads me to another broken string no longer holding me down to a miserable world.
Another reason I’m not exactly freaking out about my current lack of employment is that I sorta have something to fall back on. They’re opening a casino here in Cleveland in a few months, and I applied to be a dealer…I made it through my interview and orientation, and now I’m in the gaming academy to become a blackjack dealer. It’s a pretty cool process, and I’ve learned a lot since early December and have met some really awesome people along the way. I did my audition last night, and apart from a few minor snags, I don’t see myself not doing well. I find out how I did tomorrow, and I’m slightly nervous, but I figure that if this doesn’t work out, I’ll figure something else out. I think this job would open so many doors for me, and it will honestly be the start of a better life for me and Nicky.
I’m also going to take this newfound free time and use it to spend with Nicky and my friends and a few of those amazing people that I’ve met along the way down the road less travelled. I also think I’m going to try to attempt some of the things that I wanted to do while I was working at the dealership, but was unable to do due to my work schedule. You can’t really accomplish too much when you work in the middle of the day during the week and all day on the weekends with one day off. It was rough, so I’m gonna view this as a vacation of sorts and enjoy myself!
Season One, Episode Twenty: I Don’t Want To Be THAT Guy…You Know, The One Who Throws Around Their Awesomeness
Oh. My. God.
I feel like I’m gonna throw up. I think I’m being attacked from the inside by the delicious kugel I just sucked down like a friggin’ Dyson. Ughhhh. But you don’t want to hear how the noodley goodness is doing roundhouses in my tummy. So I digress…
It’s January Fifourth (it’s that gray area between the Fourth and the Fifth, because to some it’s still nighttime and to others it’s early morning…I say it’s still Wednesday, but I know some of you may not concur with me and say it’s Thursday–and some people in the New Zealand/Australia area might even go a step further and say it’s nearly Friday), and I am contemplating the new year and the obligatory resolutions that come along with it. I don’t really get the concept of making resolutions, especially when people make crazy and outlandish ones that they never really keep. According to USA.gov, some of the most common resolutions made in America are as follows:
- Drink less alcohol
- Eat healthy food
- Get a better education
- Get a better job
- Get fit/Lose weight
- Manage debt
- Manage stress
- Quit smoking
I wonder how many people actually are still keeping those resolutions by the time June rolls around. I always feel like New Year’s and Lent fall too close together, and there is just way too much resoluting and sacrificing for Jesus and I just can’t do it.
Maybe I’m just non-committal? Could be. Whatever the reason, I have compiled a short, but detailed list of previous resolutions of yore and why they failed:
- Swear less. I’ve tried that one for Lent a few times too. It doesn’t work. I may look sweet and aw shucksish, but I have the mouth of a trucker. I think all my attempts lasted a few hours.
- Lose 10-30 pounds. Pfft. I love food waaaaay too much to eat healthy. I hate most healthy food and I can rationalize consuming half a package of Oreos during an episode of New Girl. That one has lasted me a few weeks, but I always crash and/or burn.
- Get fit. Yeaaaaaah…I lasted nearly a year on this one. I am a pretty vain person, and I like getting all buff and toned and wearing smaller pants. Who doesn’t? I am also a sucker for having super toned arms and a fit back, so this was a resolution that I enjoyed…until work derailed me and I fell off the workout wagon.
- Be a nicer person. I am, for the most part, a pretty nice person. Even more so if I like you or think you have potential to be included on my golden list of compadreship. But if I don’t like you? Oh that is a sad card to be dealt, because I am quite bitchy and mean. In both the preppy mean girl mean and in the smart person who makes mean comments that sail over your head and that you don’t really get until you think about it later. I can usually do good on this one until I inevitably run into a person that I decide I hate.
- Be less messy. Oh man…yeah, that one doesn’t get too far out of the gate. I don’t even know why I try to make that one, to be honest.
- Try to go to bed earlier. Um…yeah. You see how well that one worked out.
I decided that this year I’m just going to not make any resolutions and see how that works out. Ash Wednesday is February 22nd, and I have to come up with something particularly good to impress Jesus, so I’ll come up with a good Lenten thing to give up. Maybe I’ll actually keep it? That would be a first. I don’t think I have ever kept a resolution or whatever I gave up for Lent.
Wow. I am a non-committal, foul-mouthed, slightly chubby, mean and messy nocturnal Catholic who eats badly.
You can't argue with perfection.
At least I’m funny. That’s gotta count for something, right? 😛
A Short Interlude of Sorts
I’m trying to catch up on sleep and a few side writing projects I’ve been working on, so this is like a mini post. A postlette, if you will. Ever since I was around eleven or twelve I’ve been a fan of Charlotte Church. Her voice is breathtaking, and her range was something I aspired to when I was younger…since my parents couldn’t afford voice lessons, I’d spend many an afternoon after school sitting on my bed with my CD player on my dresser, singing along to her albums, trying my damnedest to hit those crazy high soprano notes. I’m sure I drove my mom and dad crazy, but I loved her music.
I was messing around on YouTube tonight and on a whim I looked up Charlotte Church because I’d read that she’d tried her hand at pop music. Sure enough, I found a video of her baring her midriff and shaking her shaggily cut “rock star” hair, singing a song about being “a crazy chick”. Her voice surprised me because I was so used to her classical stuff, but I wasn’t impressed by the lyrics or the premise of the video. I clicked on one of the side links and found the song that I’m posting below. It’s called “We Were Young”, and it’s about her breakup with her children’s father. Her voice is beautiful, and you can hear the pain and wistfulness in it as she sings. I couldn’t find the album, Back to Scratch, on iTunes, but I think it’s probably available on the UK version. I really love the simpleness of the recording, it’s much more impressive than an over-processed, over produced track–and she touches upon her classical background a little when she sings. I love it 🙂 Take a listen, and don’t miss me too much, I’ll be back soon ❤
Season One, Episode Nineteen: Rocking the Boat
“Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”
—Oscar Wilde
I love that quote.
And how true it is. Our entire lives, from the moment we can comprehend human speech all the way through young adulthood, we are told we are special. We are told that there is no one else in the world that is exactly like us. No one has the exact same fingerprints, no one has the exact same DNA, even identical twins. We’re all different.
Except we’re not.
Especially now. We live in a generation where it’s all already been done. Hollywood, books, music, fashion, life…all been done. So we try to recycle and remake our society‘s culture, try to recreate the past in a collective mash-up of old and what we think to be new. We strive so hard to be that special kind of different that we ultimately lose touch with reality. Our desire for uniqueness has bred a generation of narcissists who are more interested in their imagined self-importance. And yet…Most of us don’t live a single unique moment in our lives.
We spend most of our time mirroring others, gauging others’ opinions of us and striving to be liked. How many women follow the actions of the Kardashians and other “reality” shows with rapt attention? How many of us spend painstaking hours following the latest trends and fashions in Hollywood, so that we can all look like generic re-creations of our favorite celebrities? How many of us regurgitate what we read in the newspaper or saw on the news and try to pass off as our own intellect? How many of us hide behind others’ words and try to make them our own, either through repetition or through our daily actions?
We all do. We mimic each other as a way of safely assimilating into society, because we all want to belong. It’s part of what makes us inherently human. We need company, and we need to feel a sense of belonging, a sense of community. The ones that think outside of the metaphorical box are thought of as weird, that there must be something wrong with the way they are wired because society doesn’t behave like that. We blend seamlessly into the background and let the ones who are “weird” really do all the living. We would rather be a community of muted shades of gray rather than change the world with our own brightness. We all tread lightly on the surface of life just so that we have a full table surrounding us on Dollar Draft Night.
My parting thought to you this morning is this: I want you, after reading this post, to ask yourself what you’ve done lately to break out of that metaphorical box of sameness and positively rock the boat. I want you to think of one positive thing that you can do today to live a life not of mimicry, not of quotations, but of your own thoughts, your own actions. What is one thing that you want to do for you, and not for the other seven billion lives on this planet? And once you think of it, please do it…because, well, we are all different, and it’s in rocking the societal boat that we can celebrate our uniqueness.
The world was changed by those who thought outside of the box.
Season One, Episode Eighteen: Migraines and Monochromatic Mayhem
Mondays.
So boring.
I feel bad for the poor day, however. It’s not like it asked to be boring and dull and ho-hum. It’s the monochromatic sibling in a family of neons and pastels. No one wakes up on a Monday morning and jumps happily out of bed and chirps “Yay, it’s Monday! I can’t wait for the day of neverending work and monotony ahead of me to begin!” You think of Monday and you think, Crap, I have work. All week long. You think Monday, you automatically start to yawn because there is just something inherently tiring about Mondays. Monday is not known for being a day of festivity and glee. Nay. Monday wanted to be cool, but instead Monday wears clunky glasses and ill-fitting sweater jackets. Monday is Friday and Saturday’s nerdy older sister who would rather stay home and memorize the Periodic Table instead of go to the club and hook up with some greasy, over-tanned and over-muscled guy named Tony who wears waaay too much gel in his hair. Monday is a day of general blah-itivity. Monday is the Karen in the room (cool points if you caught the Dane Cook reference).
So…not only was it a droll and blah kind of Monday, it was a Monday after a three day weekend, one of those Mondays that you dread, especially when Christmas came the day before and you’re still kind of full of Yuletide spirit. I really was not looking forward to today because I wasn’t really in the mood to go to work and do workish stuff, but to make things worse, I had a ridiculous migraine all day long. My head was hurting when I went to sleep last night, but I figured it’d be gone by morning. Wrong. Not only was my head screaming when I got up, but I also had an upset stomach. Faaaabulous. I felt like I was completely hungover all day long, which wasn’t even fair because I haven’t touched alcohol in weeks. The phones were obnoxious at work, and I took a few ibuprofen and chased it with Mountain Dew to try to soothe the ferocious brain beast. I’m feeling a lot better, but my head is still kind of achy.
I just scrolled down my screen in my little composition work area and couldn’t help but notice the tags that WordPress suggested that have absolutely nothing to do with what I just wrote. I’ll share a few with you:
- Pablo Picasso
- Neon Indian (um, what?)
- Hollywood
- shopping
- Louis C.K. (whoever the hell that is)
- TwitVid
Um…okay. Did any of you guys see anything that would remotely correspond to any of those tags in the first few lines of today’s post? No? Me neither. I just Googled this Louis C.K. fellow and apparently he’s a comedian. Okay…I can see how broadly he fits into the grand scheme of tagging things, but I’m still a little confused by the other suggestions. Whatever. I’m thinking maybe a certain blogging platform had too much non-virgin eggnog on Christmas morning. And on Kwanzaa/Boxing Day.
Speaking of holiday festivity and joy, I am wearing one of the new sweaters my mom and dad got me for Christmas. It’s comfy, it’s warm, and I like it. Especially because it’s all belted and business below my rack and ’80s prom dress above. It’s got that weird shoulder thing going on…I’ll find a pic to show you.
Sorta like this, only as a sweater, and not white or ruffly at the top. Sorta hideous, I suppose, but super comfy and awkward. Yes!
I feel like Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink, only cuter. I was messing with the shoulders all day to look like I really should have been at some kid’s Senior Prom, circa 1986 instead of at a Ford dealership, answering phones and informing people that our parts and service departments were closed due to the holiday. Too bad my hair was in a ponytail and I didn’t have a particularly gaudy corsage on hand, because I would have looked pretty damn awesome at that receptionist window.
Next time, next time.
Season One, Episode Seventeen: The Myth of the Supermom
As being a mom goes, I guess one would say that I’m not particularly very good at it.
Let me rephrase that. I am a good mom, in the actual definition of a mother. My son is pretty well adjusted and happy, he eats three meals a day, is very loved, and takes his baths and does his homework. I’m good at the parenting part. It’s this idealized notion of motherhood that I suck at.
My fabulous little boy!
I’m not very good at being the stereotypical idea of what a mom should be. I go on to sites like CafeMom, which I refer to as the “MySpace of Mommydom” or other “mommy friendly” blogs/sites and I’m just like wow, I really suck at this mom shit. These ladies are really on the ball when it comes to the nominees for Mom of the Year 2011. I’m not married, nor do I really have a desire to do so. I’m not a stay-at-home mom. I don’t cut my son’s sandwiches into fun little shapes with cookie cutters because A.) I would never be able to come up with something like that on my own, and B.) I think it’s a little stupid to cut my kid’s PB & J into the shape of an Easter egg just because Holy Week is right around the corner. I don’t volunteer for school related activities because I work crazy hours, so if it’s in the morning I’m usually sleeping because I’m tired from work the day before, or if it’s in the afternoon I’m trapped at work. I actually don’t really like kids that aren’t mine. I don’t make fun little crafts for Nicky to take to school because I don’t have an ounce of craftiness in my body, and I remember making fun of the kids that would bring in crafty stuff for the teacher.
I am nowhere near this. Nowhere. In my world, the dishes would be piled up and I'd be off doing something fun and adventurous with my son. My husband would be the one washing the dishes in joyous exultation.
I can’t sew. I’ve tried, but I can’t make cutesy blankets or scarves or whatever the hell it is that those perennially perfect moms do with their spare time. You know, the little bit of spare time they have between making amazing vegan/organic meals that they have to take pictures of to remind the moms like me how much we suck for taking our kids to McDonald’s or making them Ramen noodles for dinner, taking their kids to the 8858475484 sports practices, ballet recitals, and band rehearsals, and just being all around awesome and perfect. I’ve never made a cake from scratch or boasted about how I got this stubborn grass stain out of my husband’s khaki shorts. I don’t have time to create a beautifully elaborate scrapbook of every single memory my son and I have shared or created in the almost seven years he’s been alive. I barely have enough time to spend with him when I get home from work before it’s time for him to go to bed. I am not a domestic goddess, not by a long shot. Nor do I want to be. It actually sounds pretty damn boring.
I’m not jealous of, or threatened by these “supermoms”, the stay-at-home Wonder Women who claim to be able to change a diaper and frost a cake simultaneously. First of all, that is overwhelmingly unhygienic, and secondly, I highly doubt that they can actually do that. No, I actually think it’s pretty cool that they are so dedicated to making their husbands and children so happy. That is their life and they love it. Kudos to them. I, on the other hand, am on the other end of the spectrum. Like I said earlier, I have no desire to get married and have a huge house with a white picket fence and big backyard for my 2.5 children and my golden retriever. I have no desire to buy a minivan or discuss home decor or the amazing sale on corn at Giant Eagle. Nay. I suppose I am selfish. And lazy. And crazy independent. I’ve always been that way, though. I was the girl who didn’t want a husband or a dream house or kids. I wanted to travel the world and have ridiculous experiences to tell whenever I’d write home or visit or whatever. I didn’t want that cutesy perfect life most girls dream of, with the fairytale wedding and the Cinderella-type happy ending. I don’t even think my Barbies lived happily ever after, to be honest.
That said, however, I love my son. I love being a mom. I’ll just never be that perfect idea of what a mother should be. I’m the mom who is always late, rushing out the door in the middle of winter without my coat on, juggling my purse and coffee and coat and keys, yelling up the stairs for Nicky to hurry up, when he is actually on the porch with me, coat all zipped up and ready to go. I’m the mom who loves snuggling up with her son and watching movies. I’d rather crack jokes with Nicky and lose at Monopoly Jr. than pretend to be perfect. I’m the mom who sings silly songs at the top of her lungs and gets in tickle fights and has awesome conversations with her kid. I’m a hands on mom. I’m the mom who works six days in order to make forty hours so that she can supplement the ridiculously low child support she gets a month. I’m the mom who toughs it out and still lives at home because she has the common sense to know that she can’t do it alone. I’m pretty proficient in self-sacrifice.
I think, actually, that this alleged “Supermom” that seems to exist only on CafeMom and these other peachy keen mommy sites is just a myth. It’s easier to sound perfect when you’re behind a computer screen and no one is actually there to back you up. I’m willing to wager that 85% of the moms in the world are like me–imperfect and fun and nowhere near the stereotype from the 1950s. I’m pretty sure that I’m the definition of a real mom, and I’m okay with it. Just don’t ask me my thoughts on matching wall paint colors with curtains and upholstery. You’ll get a blank stare 😛
I love this, haha. Sums me up in one short sentence.
Season One, Episode Sixteen: Christmas Magic and Reddit Madness
Merry Christmas!!! I hope Santa was good to all of you…I guess Santa did not read my blog in time, because Alex O’Loughlin was not under my tree. Damn. Oh well, there’s always next year, hahaha.
Merry Christmas 🙂
And holy Reddit, Batman!!! I signed up for Reddit last night and posted the link to this little gem of blog fabulosity. I currently have gotten 98 hits in the past 24 hours. Um, that is pretty splendid. And to all the people who have followed the link here to Chasing Lala, I say thank you and if you like what you see, please follow by email or click the sweet little Facebook “like” button on the right side of this blog to head on over to the Chasing Lala Facebook page. I appreciate you checking my blog out, and feel free to come back again!
In the light of today being Christmas, I figured I’d share some little holiday factoids with y’all, courtesy of Random Facts:
- In A.D. 320, Pope Julius I, bishop of Rome, proclaimed December 25 the official celebration date for the birthday of Christ.
- Christmas trees have been sold in the U.S. since 1850.
- In Poland, spiders or spider webs are common Christmas trees decorations because according to legend, a spider wove a blanket for Baby Jesus. In fact, Polish people consider spiders to be symbols of goodness and prosperity at Christmas.
- Christmas wasn’t declared an official holiday in the United States until June 26, 1870.
- Alabama was the first state in the United States to officially recognize Christmas in 1836. Oklahoma was the last U.S. state to declare Christmas a legal holiday, in 1907.
- Because they viewed Christmas as a decadent Catholic holiday, the Puritans in America banned all Christmas celebrations from 1659-1681 with a penalty of five shillings for each offense. Some Puritan leaders condemned those who favored Christmas as enemies of the Christian religion.
- Christmas has its roots in pagan festivals such as Saturnalia (December 17-December 23), the Kalends (January 1 -5, the precursor to the Twelve Days of Christmas), and Deus Sol Invictus or Birthday of the Unconquerable Sun (December 25). The Christians church heartily disapproved of such celebrations and co-opted the pagans by declaring December 25 as Christ’s day of birth, though there is no evidence Christ was born on that day.
- Santa Claus is based on a real person, St. Nikolas of Myra (also known as Nikolaos the Wonderworker, Bishop Saint Nicholas of Smyrna, and Nikolaos of Bari), who lived during the fourth century. Born in Patara (in modern-day Turkey), he is the world’s most popular non-Biblical saint, and artists have portrayed him more often than any other saint except Mary. He is the patron saint of banking, pawnbroking, pirating, butchery, sailing, thievery, orphans, royalty, and New York City.
Merry Christmas ❤ Here’s a little Josh Groban for you all to enjoy 🙂
Chasing Lala 