Hey, it's holiday time! Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, and then the day after that, it's my birthday. Does it get much better than that? Well...not in my life. My culture is one that attaches very little significance to holidays and anniversaries. This will be the third straight year that I haven't had Thanksgiving/my birthday with my family. I'm okay with that. They're okay with that. In fact, I don't remember anything special involving my birthday, other than the occasional present, in the last several years. This seems normal to me, until I see my friend Dylan, for example, who stops everything for his birthday. He takes the day off no matter what, and, in the case of when he turned 21, the whole week off. Whoops.
My mom told me a story this past summer that illustrates where I'm coming from with anniversaries. The said she was having a bad day, tired, but having to go shopping. My sister was sick and whiny, only compounding her foul mood. So she's in the store with my dad, and they're paying, and she writes a check. As she writes down the date, she notices that it's their anniversary. Not just an anniversary. A supposedly big one. 25th. And if it hadn't been for the check, my parents would have forgotten it.
I kind of envy people who take great joy in doing the holiday thing. But the whole thing is so arbitrary. It's just another day. Or two days, in my case.
On the other hand, if I took great joy in doing the Thanksgiving thing, I'd be very depressed that I wasn't going home today or tomorrow. Win some, lose some.