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Thursday, Nov. 28, 2002 / 5:33 p.m. ~My Thanksgiving, 2002, So Far~ The girls and I slept 'til 2:30 p.m. Gladys was under the covers, Norman was over, and when I stretched out they both shifted, ran away actually. I dreamed I was moving back into my first apartment. But of course it wasn't really my first apartment. And it had more rooms the more I explored, and more people living there. I asked someone, "How many people actually live here?", and I think it was more like a movie than a dream. There was the requisite gay man, looking for the perfect partner, and I would help him find his Prince Charming, by the end of the first season, no doubt. There was a small skylight in the ceiling, and it was open, and raining. Not that the rain was coming in, but I was searching for the appropriate loop-ended tool to grasp the handle and close it, and did, find it, closed it, and someone was telling me really I ought to leave it open. Next thing I knew the floor in the next room was covered with water. This all sounds like an amalgam of "Felicity" episodes, combined with my psyche to produce a dream that seems to be about a time when I was just starting out on my own, mixed with college roommates, the roommates I've never had. And etc. Washed a small pile of dishes. I love the small piles. Made some amaretto coffee, I'm drinking it, here, almost 4:00 in the afternoon. I was excited and apprehensive imagining I might watch "GL" live, since I haven't seen it in at least a month, and I feel terribly guilty for abandoning it, but with the VCR situation, well, anyway, it's football. Maybe tomorrow. I imagine I'll write in my little paper journal, about yesterday, since yesterday was most eventful, and extremely stressful, and then I'll see what movie comes on after "You Only Live Twice". If it's "Goldfinger", well, I think I'll be in the living room for the next couple hours. I think I'll download some more .mp3s from KaZaA, as this is my newest fun thing to do, and soon I plan to cook up a frittata. I'm thinking bacon, baby portabellos, red pepper, maybe some new potatoes. Oh, green onions too. I have some smoked gouda still, so maybe a little on top? Sounds good. And I'm craving another tray of those mini shumai dumplings! Pop into the microwave for a few minutes, douse with some dumpling sauce (man, that stuff is good!!), and get out the chopsticks. Heaven. I've been channeling all the shmoes doing the traditional thing, it just keeps popping into my head. Men on couches watching football, women in kitchens forgetting to take out the rolls from the oven, turkeys being overcooked, people arguing, people loving. I'm sure there's a lot going on out there today, the cosmos is busy with all the energies. Much more than usual. And I could sit and remember all my Thanksgivings, or I could just be thankful for this one, that not one person offered up the usual pity-invitation. Thank you, world. And only one even asked if I'd be cooking, or what, to which I replied, "Ummmmmm, well...." and I think the phone rang. I also have to keep reminding myself what day it is, Thursday, not Saturday, and tomorrow is Friday, and I have many days off until I go back next Wednesday. I have to remember, try to find some structure or I will sit around in flannel pants and fleece Dr. Seuss shirt until then, not accomplishing anything. I do have some things I must do. Like move my safe deposit box at the bank. They're rearranging and need everyone to come move their shit. Like NOW. Alright, okay, no, you do not need to send me a certified letter, I got the message. I'm coming, jeez. Monday. How's that? I need to see what's in there anyway. Probably my expired passport, photo negatives out the ass, my birth certificate, maybe my good slides, yeah, I wish I had prints of all of them. Good stuff, travel photos. I think I'm supposed to have a second key though, and it's making me crazy thinking I need to tear things apart to find it, before I go. Blah. I'm definitely getting hungry. I think I want to cook in my beautiful clean kitchen. I do. Oh, oh, oh, I cooked last night! I cut up some squash, yellow crookneck and zucchini, and some red bell pepper, green onions, and I sauteed above in butter with seasonings. Actually, I melted butter, got nonstick pan really hot, threw in squash, tossed on high heat, lowered heat, seasoned with lemon herb seasoning and lemon pepper. Some kosher salt. When the squash became the slightest bit translucent I threw in the pepper and onion and tossed a bit, turned off flame and served. Orgasmic. Really. It was the lemon herb/lemon pepper combo. And not overcooking the veggies. I ate a HUGE bowl of it. Except for the butter, it was vegan. Right, right, I could not be vegan. I could try, but what's wrong with butter? What's wrong with keeping a cow and milking her for milk, for butter? Why is that wrong? She doesn't mind. Er, right? I should go read what Moby's doing today. I suppose he may still be on the road, or if he's back in NYC he's eating tofurkey somewhere, with friends. This is a great day, so far. Cost of the War in Iraq
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