1) Thank You (my Thanksgiving list in no particular order)

A few moments ago, I had a conversation with my housemate R about Thanksgiving. (I must mention that he was standing in his blue towel, and that’s the only way I’ve seen him lately. I’m sure he wears clothes at some point in the day, but when I catch him at home, he’s never in anything but his towel).

Our former housemate M is having a Thanksgiving celebration on Sunday evening, replete with a tiny turkey, potatoes, wine, and friends around her kitchen island. I actually forgot about Thanksgiving until status updates on Facebook started to mention turkey, baked macaroni and cheese, and Black Friday. Last year for Thanksgiving, I was with my cousin RJ and his family at his aunt’s house in Mt. Vernon stuffing my face with baked macaroni and cheese, salad and rolls, and playing with his five-year old daughter. Last year, I was thankful as hell that my amazing cousin made the trip in the rain to pick me up, so that I could spend the day with family; I was even more thankful that I didn’t have a child (my god, it started with the kicking in the car).

I was saying to R, that unlike Christmas, Thanksgiving isn’t my holiday. Yes, there’s family togetherness, but where’re the songs, the presents, the glitter and tinsel? Where the heck is Paul McCartney’s ” Simply Having a Wonderful Thanksgiving Time?” Does Thanksgiving have even one song? Is it just a holiday to indulge gluttony and watch sappy Lifetime movies?– If that’s the case, maybe I can jump on board.

Turkey was never a favorite of mine, nor were sweet potatoes with marshmallows, or cranberry sauce (one year with ground walnuts); so, the last Thursday in November has held zero appeal for me, until I started working and got the two days off. Maybe, I came too late to the holiday? Since the only appeal was baked mac and cheese (and four days of leftover baked mac and cheese), then I didn’t really see the point, especially with Christmas nipping at its heels.

However, R made a good point. It’s not about the food at all, nor is it about the huge, roasted bird. It’s not about the potatoes, the mac and cheese, or the poor duped Native Americans and the conniving Pilgrims. It’s about giving thanks, being grateful for being alive in order to a) give thanks and b) be grateful.

So, here’s my Thanksgiving list in no particular order:

1) Thanks Youtube. Without you, I couldn’t go on, nor would I want to. In the last hour, without getting up, I’ve listened to Frank Sinatra, Marvin Gaye, Funky Green Dogs, Elvis Presley and Deneice Williams.

2) Thanks Berry Gordy. You were such a genius, and gave such gifts to the world. I heard you may be a bit of an egomaniac, but which genius isn’t? And who cares? Your legacy will live on forever and give joy forever.

3) Thanks Skintology Laser Spa. Thanks for reminding me that botox is never too far away, and can now be injected for less than $200. Useful information.

4) Thanks Paul McCartney. What would the world do without Yesterday?!

5) Thanks Porkie. God, I’ve loved you, but I must let you go now. You’ve been just too good to me… so nice on the tongue. This hurts me.

6) Thank you universe for putting the most wonderful people in/on my path, from the lifers (aka family) to the chosen ones (aka friends), to the strangers who make a difference… and are no longer strangers.

7) Thank you expat bloggers. You’ve shown me, and countless others, in pictures and words, how amazing life is in Belgium, the Netherlands, Sweden, Brazil, France, Ireland, Italy and South Korea. You’ve opened my inner eyes and strengthened my lust. (By the way, don’t get me started on lust again).

8) Thanks mum, for the most open, expansive love (but then again, you got lucky with such a sweet child).

Happy Thanksgiving All!


p.s Reasons, so many reasons to be grateful!


In the past week, I’ve referred to myself as a golden girl three times. I wish I were saying “life is golden and easy breezy,” and not “I’m graying and weary, so please don’t call after 10pm.” Yet, it occurs to me that the Golden Girls would be offended at my comparison, as they were spry, had swinging social lives, and were always decked in sequins. After Bob Mackie left Diana Ross and Cher, he must have swung by their Miami condo and dressed them for their evenings out.

An evening out seems like an interesting concept, but I think I’d need a book to guide me on that venture. What would it entail? Would I need good underwear? Would I wear blush? Would it involve dancing/music/food/laughter/tickets/nice shoes/sequins? So many questions, especially as my evenings now consist of watching a little Golden Girls on Lifetime, in my flannel pajamas, before retiring for the night.

Referring to oneself as a Golden Girl is just a common way of saying “I’m an old broad;” but the more I think about them, and watch their antics, the more appealing their lives become. What’s there not to love? They live in sizzling Miami, they have cheap rent (since they’re sharing a house in an already affordable state), they date regularly (and Blanche more than that), they eat quite alot of cheesecake and never once say the word “diet” or worry about their waistlines, they have a strong support system in each other and they wear incredible jewelry. All in all, their lives are well-rounded, full and seemingly satisfying, whereas my life, at this stage, is milquetoast.

If I were a Golden Girl, which Golden Girl would I be isn’t yet a game, but maybe soon it will be. It should be one with trivia questions, flash cards, and bonus rounds that involve scenarios that begin with “Picture this,” and end in St. Olaf anecdotes. It’d be such a hit. Sex and the City borrowed heavily from the Golden Girls with its characterizations of the four women, and since most women have a SAC character with whom they identify, likewise, they have a matching Golden Girl counterpart.

I’m Dorothy: sarcastic, a teacher, gets the least action of the friends, the tall one, the hard-shelled one. (I’m gonna try for Blanche! :)).