Do I come off as bitchy here?

Happy Thanksgiving.

I'm taking a moment to myself to write while the men are in the sitting room watching football (for which I have no interest) and the women are in the kitchen talking about cats* (for which I have no interest).

In preparation for today's feastivities, I decided to go for a run and do some lifting with my dainty pink Reebok weights (with detatchable handles). I found a nice route to lap around in my Dad's neighborhood. Burn it off, burn it baby.**

I'm running while simultaneously trying to ebb the flow of snot that starts gushing forth from my nose and taking deep heaving breaths, as it has been 2 weeks since my last run.

I see this tall, trim man wearing state of the art running gear, sunglasses, and loping along like a gazelle. I start feeling Bad About Myself and adjust my pose so I look a little more legit. As he runs past me he gives me the little runners' *nod* and I *nod* back and he continues to smoke me.

Was that just an induction into the elite club of low wind-resistance and wrist weights? I felt like those motorcyclists who always signal to eachother on the road. "Pease, man. Yea, I know exactly how cool we are. I get you, brother." I am now accepted into the club of smelly piles of lycra in the corner ("Oh that's just my running gear... heh. Sorry. Did 10 miles this morning.") and sunglasses I can strap to my head.

I think for Christmas I am going to ask for as many zip-up runner's jackets and aerodynamic leg wear as I can get.

Peace, man.



*Is it just me, or does every conversation about cats inevitably turn into a conversation about how old they get and the disgusting diseases they incur. Cat diseases are so much more icky than any other disease. I believe this is because cats themselves are icky creatures.

**It was also good for me to get out of the crushing overbearance of too many family members in one house. Being an extrovert, one would assume I thrive in social settings, but family - themed social settings cause me to fold into myself like a clam, snail or any other similar crustacean. With this group, I can't take a moment to myself without it being overanalyzed or discussed or commented on. I can't bring up anyone I might be seeing without a multitude of questions and my stepmom reminding me I'll be the one to "pop out a kid" first. Actions that are customary and get little to no reaction from close friends are fodder for my family. If one more person wanders in here and asks me what I am doing while peeking at the screen, I will throw the laptop at their face.

Push it real good...

Last night I had an intensely linear dream.

I was living in San Francisco (I was aware of it being San Francisco, it looked nothing like San Francisco. ) Which is one of my 5 frequent recurring dream locations. (The best I had was one in which I visited a beautiful sprawling cathedral surrounded by lush greenery, and then visited a whimsical low-ceiling'ed ice cream shop and met up with my lactose intolerant friend Justin who freely enjoyed the frozen dairy treat with me. Glorious)

So, I was living in San Francisco, hanging out in something that could only be described as a construction site, and I was happy as happy gets. And pregnant. This is my second dream in the last 6 months or so where I am pregnant. I am always happy to be pregnant, natural, gorgeous, glowing, radiant, ecstatic.

This freaks me out for 3 reasons:

1. My step mom is sure that not only will I be the first daughter to wed, I will immediately "pop out a baby". This is disconcerting because I want to travel and lead a full life of debauchery before children. How could this happen to me first seeing as my sister has been in a relationship for three years... and it's a little ominous to us both that I, who has never had a boyfriend, will wed and "pop" out babies before her.

2. There have been a few days I have forgotten my birth control and taken it a few hours past it's allotted time. Sometimes I think that when this happens a baby will spontaneously grow like those foam capsules you put in water and it goes from a pill to an 18-inch replica of Saturn in like, 10 minutes.

3. I am seeing someone again. Re-read #2.

Darla's word isn't God... but I'm sure as hell not telling her about these dreams!

Not that I honestly think I am about to be knocked up. I am pretty smart about my sex, (when I have it) and I am going to be completely transparent and say I would get an abortion should I accidentally get pregnant.

This is a touchy subject. I feel horrible saying this with so many women around me who are proud single mothers, and also a few women who have tragically lost a baby or are trying hard to get pregnant. The more I think about abortion, the more truly horrid it seems, the very idea of it. I am 100% pro choice but for goodness sake I hope you did everything you could before you got to that point. I know I would.

Where did that soapbox come from? Out of nowhere.

Let's get back to me living in San Francisco, wearing a nice floaty dress from pea in a Pod or some such maternity store.

The End.

Return of the Mack

Starting to get excited for Thanksgiving despite the fact that I will be sleeping on an air mattress in the dining room. (It's a smaller house.) It will all be worth it if I can get my grandmother drunk again and find out more juicy family gossip. It was fantastic to find out that my mother socked her father-in-law in the face once. Riveting!

Hard to believe that 9 years ago my family was in a state of overwhelming grief during this time.Thanksgiving then was bleak and grey. Almost being angry at myself then, for thinking just two weeks earlier that my mother would be with us, just very sick, but still present.

Dark clouds have always settled over October and November for me. Financially, career-wise, and emotionally. They are the nadir of my year.

Happy to say this year, things are looking up.

Here's to sun! Goodnight.