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In this issue:
Cat's Official Week
Topic 1) My Big Fat Arab Easter
Topic 2) Untitled
Topic 3) Song Lyric of the Week
Topic 4) Webpage of the Week
Topic 5) Quote of the Week
Cat's Official Week:
This week is the Festival Of Enormous Changes At The Last Minute.
Topic 1) My Big Fat Arab Easter:
By Me
Inquiring minds wanna know, so I guess I'll inform them. I thought everyone celebrated Easter the same way, but apparently I'm wrong. Easter is my family's biggest holiday, and it starts way before Sunday. Let's trace it back to Ash Wednesday (usually occurring in late February), when us crazy Catholic kids go to a service where scorched palm leaf remnants are smeared onto our foreheads. Mind you, this is only the beginning.
We move through forty days (give or take a few) of a season known as Lent (as in, "Bobby lent me a pencil"). The Sunday before Easter is known as Passion Sunday, or more commonly, Palm Sunday. Everyone loves Palm Sunday mass because you get a prize just for showing up. All Catholics receive palm leaves on this day (some progressive services ask you to wave them in the air during the opening song), with many parishioners giving their best attempts at making the palm look like a cross, an origami problem of sorts. Some succeed, some don't. But everyone gets a souvenir.
So then we begin Holy Week. This is a very somber time, and all Catholics try to repent their sins to a priest before the week is over. On Holy Thursday (not "Super Thursday," although Divya might still think it's called), we have a mass which is meant to observe The Last Supper. People get their feet washed at this one, too. But, it's not really a good scrubbing, because we don't use any soap. Just water. But I guess cleanliness isn't the point here, which instead is to recall how Jesus washed his disciple's feet at the Last Supper. I wonder if he used soap.
OK, on to Good Friday, which wasn't a very good day at all for Jesus. There's an optional service on this day, where Catholics can kiss the crucifix and such. My dad said that when he was growing up, his parents wouldn't let them listen to music on Good Friday. That makes sense.
Good Friday is immediately followed by Holy Saturday, which is when my family dyes Easter eggs. We sometimes do other things, but it varies yearly. But on Saturday night, my family always attends the Easter Vigil Mass. This mass usually starts at 9pm or so and carries on until some forked-up hour like 11:30. But the four of us are very fond of this mass--the music, the people, the candles, the baptisms, etc. I'm very partial to the version of the Exodus reading (Moses parting the sea and such) that is always sung. It's quite catchy.
So then we nestle, all snug in our beds, while visions of baklava (and hollow chocolate bunnies, in my case) dance in our heads. We arise Easter Sunday to find that the Easter Bunny has hidden our Easter baskets! Oh, what do we do now? Go find them, of course! Mine is usually behind the window draperies.
After playing hide-and-go-seek with plastic eggs for a half and hour, my family of four (make that five now that we've "adopted" my cousin who goes to GA Tech) ups and leaves to visit West Point, GA. Now, West Point is a quaint lil' backwards town out there in the sticks, with close proximity to Lynette, Alabama (i.e., just drive over that there bridge and you're not only in another state, but also another time zone).
So what goes down at West Point, you ask? Well, a bunch of my pop's side of the family gathers at Uncle Self (pronounced something like "Sef") and Aunt Margaret's House. (I think they're my great aunt and uncle, but I won't swear to it.) I just found out last year it was their house, because there are always so many people around that I never knew whose it was until I asked. So, all these crazy full- or half-Lebanse people, who have been instilled with backwoods Southern culture for at least a half-century now, gather. And when Arabs gather, they EAT. And if you don't look like you weigh at least 130 pounds, they try to force feed you kibbe. And couscous. And tabouli. And moussaka. And baklava. And possibly ham.
So we eat. (I usually try to avoid the Arab food, dining solely on my mother's deliciously Anglo strawberry cake.) While we eat, we socialize. Since I see these people only once a year, I usually don't remember their names, but I hug them anyway. There are usually a few little kids running around that I don't know how I'm related to either. I might go do an Easter-egg hunt with them out in the big field, in my futile attempts to escape both the food and the Southern dialect. Also, this residence has a dog which is chained out on the back porch every year. The dog is filthy, and I think it might be blind. It also has a very typical Southern canine name: Buppy. I will never ever name anything Buppy, even if it's just a stuffed animal (and you can quote me on that). Nothing deserves that kind of disrespect.
So we stay in West Point well beyond the time that my dad actually has something interesting to say to his relatives. My mom, my sister, and I are usually bored out of our gourds by this point, unless we've found something interesting like a basketball or soccer ball or pinestraw to play with.
The whole "we're leaving" bit takes close to an hour. We have to first convince my dad, then we have to hug everyone. They reek of Arab/Southern cooking by now. But we escape eventually.
On the ride home, most of us sleep because of the exhausting day we've had socializing with people who we don't quite understand. Mom might make a nice comment or two about the baklava. Dad will nod in agreement.
And we all know we'll do it again next year.
Topic 2) Untitled:
By Christy Cunnington
So, everyday I wake up and I am just thankful for everything in my life. I also realized that I never take enough time to appreciate everything that I'm given. Specifically at this moment, I'm talking about nature. I've always loved the whole, "hey man, let's go outside." I remember when all I wanted to do was be outside. Then, as the years went by, and the older I got, the less time I spent. It was truly a tragedy. My love never went away, but I did nothing about it--always just talked of how amazing it was that day, then continued to waste my time inside being very unconstructive. Well, I just couldn't take it anymore--I was wasting the beauty that God gave me. So, in turn, I went outside. My addiction is back. All I want to do is play in the beauty. I love every second of it. Whether it be on a gorgeous, sunny day, or outside in the rain, it doesn't matter. I love it.
I think my favorite part though, is the peace that I get in the most natural moments of the day or night. During the day, it's nonstop witnessing life: the trees, the furry critters, the birds singing, the sound of water (being that I'm near a stream)--all of it just takes my breath away--something so beautiful. At night, it's looking up at the stars, and thinking of how endless and huge the sky is--knowing that somewhere someone is appreciating the same things as me, or not, but at least I like to think so.
I really think what I'm trying to say is simply take a minute and take in the world broken down to its bare bones. Close your eyes for a second and listen to everything: try to pick out the sounds that don't consist of cars going by, endless construction, or the chattering of people--the quiet sounds of the world are there--you just have to listen, or you'll miss it. Don't miss it. I did for too long, but there is nothing like making up for lost time. Just listen.
Topic 3) Cat's Song Lyric of the Week:
The sun is a mass of incandescent gas/ A gigantic nuclear furnace/ Where hydrogen is built into helium/ At a temperature of millions of degrees
- "Why Does the Sun Shine?" by They Might Be Giants
Topic 4) Webpage of the Week:
Get free American flag decals! http://www.street-signs-usa.com/482/cat482.htm (submitted by Val)
Topic 5) Quote of the Week:
"It is not a difficult decision to choose between a tuba and wall literature." -me, in a weird dream I had
(Funny thing is that I really have no idea which I'd choose. I mean, a tuba would be fun, wouldn't it?)
Closing:
Hope you all have a fantabulous Easter/Passover or just plain weekend for you other kids. Feel free to fit in and make up a holiday or something (I'm talking to you, Div). Peace and love.
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