Showing posts with label shoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shoes. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Gratitude


So, it's Thanksgiving again.  A time for us Americans to gather in our dsyfunctional family units to celebrate (with food!) the ousting of those pesky natives and the advent of our strip malls, Starbucks, and Wal-Marts.  I asked my sons what they were thankful for today.  My five-year-old is thankful for his cats (I think he might be the gay one!  Yes!), and his three-year-old brother is thankful for his bus driver, Mrs. Harrington.   In the spirit of the day, and because I truly am an appreciative soul, I offer my list of what I am thankful for:

1. My family, my home, the food on my table, the scotch in my glass, etc...
2. My therapist (Are you beginning to see a stereotype here?  I know!  I'm disappointed, too.)
3. My job, which is my freedom.
4. Bev, who has gone missing... (Actually, her husband just left for a one-year job in Afghanistan so pop in and drop her a line if you can...)
5. One-month-old Halloween candy which my children have lost interest in.  Score!
6. Wal-Mart
7. Starbucks
8. My new shoes, which my mother-in-law calls my prostitute shoes, a confirmation of their wonderfulness.
9. Bev's new shoes -- I'm hoping she'll blog about them.  I hate her freakishly small feet.  But this is about being thankful...
10. Windex
11. The natives, or what's left of them... or the noble and stoic oil paintings of them that hang in the restaurants.  I don't think I've ever met one, come to think of it.  But a friend of mine is 1/4 Cherokee... Does that count?  I'm distracted again.
12. Distractions
13. Moby Dick
14. Poetry
15. Barry Lyndon (the film) and Schubert's piano trio (op. 100)
16. Brad Pitt's butt
17. Porn
18. Mai Tais and Kung Pao chicken
19. Bacon
20. That I don't have to wear hats or shoes with buckles on them... unless I want to... and I can... because I'm an American... because the Pilgrims came and ousted....  Oh look!  Shoes!