When we lived in New Orleans, I learned that Carnival is more than just a couple of weeks of parades. The season actually begins on Twelfth Night with the small parade thrown by the Phunny Phorty Phellows. The season runs all the way until Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday. While Twelfth Night is always on January 6, and Mardi Gras is always on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, the actual date of that Fat Tuesday changes. It’s based on the date of Easter, which is the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox – a date ranging from 22 March to 25 April. This means that Mardi Gras falls between 3 February and 9 March, which means that Carnival can be as few as 28 days or as many as 62 days. (Clear as mud?)
I tell you all of this because I think that the giant pity party I just threw was kind of a Reverse Carnival – Lavinrac. I’d say that it easily lasted 28 days; however, it didn’t go on as long as 62 days.
Mardi Gras is a period of Big Time Celebrations, followed by Lent – a period of Big Time Introspective Repentance. Mine was backwards. My Carnival was dark, morose, introspective – more buzz kill than party. If we’d had parades, cries of, “Throw me something, mister!” would have resulted in showers of prozac, wellbutrin, and cymbalta rather than doubloons, beads and plastic dog poop. Happily, I seem to have reached my equivalent of Ash Wednesday, ending the Morticia Addams themed holiday.
Now, where’s that King Cake?