I blog, therefore I am.
Q: How can you tell when a person has an absolutely pathetic lack of a life?
A: When they start answering the "Writer's Block" questions.
"When did you stop believing in Santa Claus and why?"
Okay, it's obvious I'm not much of a blogger. In fact, this will be my first ACTUAL BLOG on Livejournal... but this question elicited a certain sense of nostalgia and an array of memories I was compelled share :)
First off - I NEVER believed in Santa Clause. Yes. That's right. When I was a kid, my parents viewed the whole Santa thing as ridiculous... they told me right from the start that Santa WAS NOT REAL. Interestingly enough, as a naive and silly child, I believed in Rudolph. Yes, Rudolph. I KID YOU NOT.
"Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" had ALWAYS been my favorite Christmas story. I watched the claymation movie hundreds of times every Christmas season until I wore the tape out... My sister and I used pretend we were reindeer and PLAY the story. And like I said, while I knew Santa did not exist, I had my own theory that every Christmas, Rudolph would still somehow fly around they world in all his glory - red nose ablaze and the Christmas bells jingling... Oddly enough, my parents encouraged my ridiculous belief. One of my fondest Christmas-Eve memories found me, a 5 year old, in bed excitedly awaiting Christmas morning. When the clock hit 12 or so I was (of course, as all little kids are) WIDE awake with anticipation when all of a sudden, I heard bells jingling outside. They started quietly and grew and grew - a soft red glow shimmered through my window. I ripped my covers off, woke up my sister, and started SCREAMING "RUDOLPH'S HERE! RUDOLPH'S HERE! WAKE UP EVERYONE!" and ran to the window. Of course, I didn't SEE Rudolph out there, but I KNEW he was there. The next morning, when I raced down stairs to the tree to get my presents, I found a few addressed "To Stacee from Rudolph" My parents told me they had found them laying outside, and I excitedly told them about my "Rudolph encounter" the previous night. Of course they sat there with their grins and "how about that!"s...
I believe I was six or seven when my parents finally told me that Rudolph didn't actually exist - that what I had seen several years before was nothing more than my dad with an flashlight and bells. Of course I was a bit crestfallen at the time, but I knew that logically, he could never really exist.
What's funny - even to this very day as an 18 year old, I haven't been able to live it down. My family STILL teases me every year about Rudolph.
So what are some of your fondest Christmas memories? When did you stop believing in Santa? (or maybe... Rudolph. heh.) I would love to hear about it!
A: When they start answering the "Writer's Block" questions.
"When did you stop believing in Santa Claus and why?"
Okay, it's obvious I'm not much of a blogger. In fact, this will be my first ACTUAL BLOG on Livejournal... but this question elicited a certain sense of nostalgia and an array of memories I was compelled share :)
First off - I NEVER believed in Santa Clause. Yes. That's right. When I was a kid, my parents viewed the whole Santa thing as ridiculous... they told me right from the start that Santa WAS NOT REAL. Interestingly enough, as a naive and silly child, I believed in Rudolph. Yes, Rudolph. I KID YOU NOT.
"Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" had ALWAYS been my favorite Christmas story. I watched the claymation movie hundreds of times every Christmas season until I wore the tape out... My sister and I used pretend we were reindeer and PLAY the story. And like I said, while I knew Santa did not exist, I had my own theory that every Christmas, Rudolph would still somehow fly around they world in all his glory - red nose ablaze and the Christmas bells jingling... Oddly enough, my parents encouraged my ridiculous belief. One of my fondest Christmas-Eve memories found me, a 5 year old, in bed excitedly awaiting Christmas morning. When the clock hit 12 or so I was (of course, as all little kids are) WIDE awake with anticipation when all of a sudden, I heard bells jingling outside. They started quietly and grew and grew - a soft red glow shimmered through my window. I ripped my covers off, woke up my sister, and started SCREAMING "RUDOLPH'S HERE! RUDOLPH'S HERE! WAKE UP EVERYONE!" and ran to the window. Of course, I didn't SEE Rudolph out there, but I KNEW he was there. The next morning, when I raced down stairs to the tree to get my presents, I found a few addressed "To Stacee from Rudolph" My parents told me they had found them laying outside, and I excitedly told them about my "Rudolph encounter" the previous night. Of course they sat there with their grins and "how about that!"s...
I believe I was six or seven when my parents finally told me that Rudolph didn't actually exist - that what I had seen several years before was nothing more than my dad with an flashlight and bells. Of course I was a bit crestfallen at the time, but I knew that logically, he could never really exist.
What's funny - even to this very day as an 18 year old, I haven't been able to live it down. My family STILL teases me every year about Rudolph.
So what are some of your fondest Christmas memories? When did you stop believing in Santa? (or maybe... Rudolph. heh.) I would love to hear about it!