dianaschnuth

Saturnalia, as any student of Latin knows, was the Roman holiday analogous to Christmas. On XVI Kalends Ian (the sixteenth day before the first of January), the feast of Saturnalia was celebrated. Eventually, the celebration stretched to multiple days. As found on the University of Vermont Department of Classics website:

Similar to our Christmas, [Saturnalia] was characterized by the giving of gifts. In fact, eventually the rites of the Saturnalia festival was absorbed into the Christian tradition and reborn as Christmas. The social order was also inverted, citizens would serve dinner to their slaves, and those slaves would later go out into the streets and gamble with dice, which was illegal during the rest of the year. On the day of the festival itself, there was a sacrifice at the temple followed by a public banquet. After this banquet, citizens are reputed to have shouted “Io, Saturnalia!”

Now, Romans were known to love their holidays, but Saturnalia was their favorite. In fact, it was so embedded into the Roman culture that by the time Christianity had taken hold in the fourth century A.D., many (if not most) of the traditions of the Saturnalia had been absorbed into Christmas.

Io, Saturnalia!

Generally, when I’m bored, that means—by definition—that nothing I can think of sounds good. This evening, though, it’s a little different: I can think of plenty of things to do, but they all either seem pointless or monumental or I just can’t find the motivation.

I could pack up Mom’s present to ship to Texas. I could plan out next Spring’s new garden. I could revamp the Saginaires Alumni page (which desperately needs attention). I could locate and install Vegas Video on Aaron’s computer and do some video editing. I could wrap some more presents. I could do a write-up of the Roman holiday of Saturnalia (coming up tomorrow!) or Yule / Winter Solstice, or even Christmas. I could finish reading my Better Homes and Gardens magazine that came in the mail today. I could find something to eat. I could practice my mellophone.

I can’t get excited about any of these things.

On top of that, my right hand is freaking freezing from sitting down here for two hours with my elbow on the arm of my desk chair, websurfing. My left hand is only moderately chilly, but my right one is starting to feel like marching band practice. You know. (Or maybe you don’t.)

I think I’ll go and think about spring and planting and gardening and how not to fuck up the $100 worth of plants I might buy *next* year.

Edit, 10:37pm: Yeah, I’m a big dork. One quesadilla and ten deep-knee bends later (while my quesadilla was microwaving), I read the rest of my magazine on the couch and was content to do so.

I then came downstairs and tinkered with Vegas Video until I made it go (and, um… it was completely legal). The video editing conventions seem to be similar between applications, as I managed to figure out how to export only a section of the captured video, and the controls make some sense to me (after ten minutes of WTF). Aaron’s computer is now rendering a test version of an XviD .avi file of the 1986 Northern Aurora performing their Semifinals performance of The Nutcracker.

This has the potential to be cool. (Vegas Video, that is, not necessarily the Nutcracker.)