...was salty, but hey. You live, you learn. I found myself thanking the dead bird for bringing my family together. I think it was all the trytophan and dehydration.
An odd thing I want to note: my aunt and uncle were joking around about marijuana in the stuffing. The mischievous part of me was hoping that they wanted to get high, perhaps relieve some tension. My family thrives on tension, though. Someday, I'm going to slip in some special butter into a desert. They'll never know the difference.
My grandmother is more frail than ever. Skinny, small, weary. She's waiting to die, but she ain't goin' out with a bang, let me tell you. When I'm in my final years, I'm going to do the craziest things. Wear the most outrageous clothes in public. Say anything and everything on my mind. I'd have earn it for surviving.
"Lola," I told her. Lola is Filipino for grandmother. "You should be happy you lived this long."
...
I chose not to participate on Black Friday, not to rebel against the capitalistic machine that drives our country into an unreasonable shopping frenzy, not because I'm desperately broke (I actually have an income this season...what a miracle), but because I wasn't in the mood to deal with crowds. There's a little thing called 'mob mentality' that I'm not a fan of. When grouped together in large numbers, we humans behave differently, think collectively, but usually it's destructive, ie soccer fans riots. I'm still cherishing some new found freedoms that I don't want to squander away at William Sonoma, thank you.
Also, I watched a little of The View on Thanksgiving Day, and fucking Sherri and Khloe Kardashian were hocking stupid products to middle-class, middle-aged housewives, talking about cooking dinner for their man, setting back the feminist movement about thirty years. That did not make me want to participate. I didn't know women were so eager to feed men.
And now...bring on the Christmas carols.
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