Perforated Lines (you can't resist 'em!)

 (a to e)

-- Thursday, November 25, 1999 --

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12:11 a.m. Ok. I think I now have scientific proof that the stuff you eat on Thanksgiving makes you stupid. Tired and fat and stupid.

(in the sink)

Consider the following bits of evidence, which I've carefully documented for your perusal.

(e to l)

Right about now, we're a country at our most vulnerable -- all our menfolk reclining on various items of upholstered furniture, their belts loosened and their feet up, our womenfolk exhausted and bug-eyed from bending and scraping and burping Tupperware lids ... now's the time for the enemy to pad ashore in the darkness and beat the barely digested stuffing out of us.

 

(homemade pie)

 

So, yes we went out hunting and gathering and bagged some defenseless little game hens and some seasonal food in handy cans and plastic baggies. A pie was created from these humble ingredients (plus a lot of sour cream and eggs and sugars and allspice). Thankfully, it was greater than the sum of its parts.

(l to p)

(we like stuffing)

Some people consider the fowl as merely a handy excuse for stuffing. And more stuffing. How about we just bake up a pan of stuffing?

Did I mention how stupid I feel now?

And how stuffed?

We watched an old-fashioned chunk of television, including my new top-favorite show, Will & Grace. I wanted to hate it last year because of the twin non-funny gimmicks of big-pile-of-hair and chipmunk-voice ... but the guy who plays Will once wore a Princeton sweatshirt and he's becoming more Fox Mulderish each and every week.

(p to s)

So I have no choice, really. We have so few choices, sometimes.

(food was eaten)

Ok. No one made me eat all this food. It was there. I had a fork.

I just did it.

And no one makes me read all these journals. Actually, that's not true. People write them. People write them very, very well. I have a browser.

I must read -- just one more ... just one more ...

(t to z)

And I was going to write a highly intelligent piece about all the things I'm thankful for ... something that would make my kids wipe a gentle tear from the corner of their eyes ... but noooooo. I had to eat stuffing. Plus some pie.

So now it's the middle of the night and I'm dragging my sorry fingers over the keys and yawning and drinking an awful lot of water. I mean, a huge amount of water. The stuffing is expanding and making my ribs feel too small.

I'm thankful that Igor likes to cook. And for electricity.

I'm glad I learned how to read.

I'm grateful for the alphabet, so I can keep on adding journals to my bookmark list and then find them again whenever I want.

And I am so happy that people such as you visit and read words such as these.

That's what I'm most thankful about this year. I am so full of joy and pride and gratitude that I could just burst.

Really. I mean it.

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