Thanksgiving and Stuff

My mother is on the warpath.

Let's face it - it's not Thanksgiving (or any other national holiday) without finding out some relatives are dropping by in the afternoon and oh, my god, the house is not clean (enough) and we must vacuum and polish and move all the crap out of the living room (there is no crap in the living room).

I just want to spike her water with vodka at one point, if it would help her calm down.

After Swiffering the stairs and living/dining room, I have retreated to the relative safety of my bedroom; Sydney the cockatiel is perched on my shoulder, alternately preening himself and chewing on my hair. Dexter, our little foundling, is just...well, he's chilling.

Which is what he always does.

Okay, I took down some Muscato, too. Apparently I'm to entertain our visitors (cousins and their friends, which is what is stressing out mother)...I'm not sure if stories of my Epic Walkout are appropriate, as last time this particular cousin asked about my job, he responded to my stories of corruption with how lucky I was to have one, etc.

There is much to be thankful for this year. For example, I'm out of that cesspit. Beyond that, I am thankful for my family and friends, many of whom (weirdly enough) I met through that cesspit. In that sense, I can't hate the job that much, since without it I wouldn't have been introduced to these people. So yeah, there was definitely an upside to it all.

I do think Thanksgiving itself has evolved from a super-patriotic holiday into something more personal. I can't think of anyone I know actually referencing the pilgrims at this point. Most of us seem to use it as an excuse to relax, think about our families, and enjoy a good meal (if we're able to). Thanksgiving is just that - giving thanks - for whatever it is you have reason to be thankful for.

Yep. Definitely feeling the wine a bit. Lightweight, thy name is Suz.

Dexter is practicing his seagull call, which is still quite good, and very puzzling to Syd. Meanwhile, I believe my break is almost up. Soon I'll be called upon to tapdance for my supper, or something. Which will be difficult in my four-inch heels.

Oh. Yeah. Might as well bust 'em out, right? Not like I'm saving them for work anymore!