Wednesday, April 04, 2007

"Easter" or "I'm just here to party"

According to the Roman Catholic Church, of which I am both voluntarily and involuntarily a member of, Easter is (to quote Wiki)
a celebration of "the resurrection of Jesus, which his followers believe occurred on the third day after his death by crucifixion some time in the period AD 27 to 33. [It] is the most important religious feast of the Christian liturgical year, observed between late March and late April."
Call me blasphemous, but I have my own beliefs. I think our dear friend The Lord came back to par-tay with yours truly. He had heard I would arrive sometime in late April, and was really bummed out when he just missed me. (Years later, I know. I don't consider this a plot hole. Christ was a planner.) Am I supposed to believe it is just some coincidence that he makes the triumphant and nearly impossible feat of emerging from the afterlife year after year, just in time to celebrate my birthday (which is April 25 for those of you who care to know)? Being a good-hearted kind of guy, He doesn't want to show up empty-handed either, so He shows up a little early every year to find me just the perfect token of His undying affection for me (I swear, We are just friends!). Of course, like anyone that is human or part-human-part-God, he spends the whole time dilly-dallying and putting the task off until like, the day before, when he hits up the mall but usually ends up just giving me the Gift of Continued Life again. How else can I explain how I have survived so many shot-laden birthday celebrations? You could call it sheer luck, or you could call it Our Risen Lord.

Next there's Ash Wednesday. Not to state the obvious, but please notice that this holiday goes so far as to bear my own name. In the Roman Catholic Church, "Ash Wednesday is observed by fasting, abstinence from meat, and repentance—a day of contemplating one's transgressions." Or as I'd like to call it, "the time when Ashley tries to lose 5 lbs before her birthday." Like any good Catholic Jew (double the guilt = double the fun!!), I usually have a lot of transgressions to contemplate, too.

And then of course there is T.G.I.F. aka "Good Friday," which is the Friday before easter, and usually marks the time when I begin a month-long celebration of my birthday (dubbed by my mom, "Birthday Month" - mark your calendars) and begin the tedious process of informing everyone I know that my birthday is coming up. We generally get Good Friday off, too, or get to leave a little early. Indeed making it a "Good Friday."

Being a carpenter, as Jesus was - and a damned good one at that - He wanted to surprise me as I first entered the world with an elegant wooden crib that he made for me. That Jesus was an O-kay guy. Happy Easter!

My mom is going to kill me for this post.

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