Oh, God. This again?

 
A Thanksgiving to (Not) Remember
This wasn’t one of the more memorable Thanksgivings in my 32 years . . . or one of the better ones. But here are some of the things I do remember from the past five or six days:

-- Driving from Tallahassee to Atlanta to Huntsville to Atlanta to Tallahassee is roughly 1,000 miles. The way we went, anyway.

-- I cooked Wednesday night . . . sort-of. Tri-color pasta rotini with parma rosa sauce (from a packet). And lots of beer.

-- When you’re driving in Huntsville, you get very little notice when there is a junction / exit for the highway you need to turn onto.

-- As a game for myself, I was going to count the number of times various family members uttered their signature catchphrases in the 24 hours we were in Huntsville, but I forgot to keep track. I do remember at least two instances of “I love it!” from my mother in law. (You really need to hear it to get the full effect.)

-- I know I have a foul mouth and periodically offend people with the “fucks” and “goddammits.” Why aren’t people around me equally offended by the n-word?

-- Thanksgiving night, after all the pro football was over, we were searching for things to watch. We settled on re-runs of Friends. (I couldn’t convince anyone that we needed to watch the Knicks-Pacers game.)

-- None of us woke up and went shopping Friday morning. That whole scene is really getting out of hand. Soon, the “door-buster” sales are going to start at midnight, fer Christ’s sake!

-- I hate those arguments where, at the outset, you’re so sure you’re right or you have a point worth arguing, but when things get to the “cold war” stage, you’re not quite sure it was worth fighting about . . . ever. That sucks.

-- During our embarrassing and hastily planned and executed departure Saturday (there’s an apology in there somewhere), I ripped my knuckle open in the cold, dry air while pushing a feeding chair into the trunk of the car. My skin literally peeled back like paper.

-- Yesterday, Michelle’s parents’ cat leapt off my lap and pushed off on my hand, scratching two of my fingers. Now my right hand is gnarled. How am I going to play guitar tonight?

-- The Seminoles beat the Gators Saturday in the best game of that rivalry’s past five games.

-- We’re gonna clean our house, dammit (oh, goddammit). We’re tired of going to other people’s clean and tastefully decorated houses. To that end, we did some cleaning yesterday. It’s gonna be a process.

I can’t remember any more. And I’m tired of trying. Lunchbreak over. Back to work.
shaken and poured by Scott-san at 1:05 PM