special thanks

With Thanksgiving looming, there's been lots of talk about all the things people are thankful for, and it's sweet. I'm also thankful for all the usual...family, friends, puppy dogs and sunshine. But someone needs to say that they're thankful for some other stuff. The sort of things most people wouldn't. So I will.

I'm thankful that I don't have to go to my crazy mean unfriendly grandmother's house for Thanksgiving. Now, before you start judging me about that, let me just say this. I had a grandma. She was squishy and sweet and spoiled me quite rotten, thank you very much. She died when I was 6. The other one, the one who is very much alive, and probably will be for another 30 years, is just not a grandma. She was barely a mother, and certainly never a "mom". She had loads of kids, and once they got past toddler age, they were handed to nannies and older siblings to raise. She is a huge reason that my mother needs to be mothered more than she's ever been able to mother. Which leads me to...

I'm thankful for my sister, for so many reasons. She is kind and smart and beautiful, and she made me the aunt and godmother of the cutest baby to ever live. She is also responsible and structured and very grown up. So I don't have to be. Which means she deals with most of the drama of aforementioned mother (whom I love dearly, by the way...just from a safe distance). My sister rules.

I'm thankful for men giving me something to bitch (and blog) about fairly consistently because they just can't seem to get their heads out of their asses. I'm also thankful that I'm not with a man with that whole cranium/ass problem. I was for a long time. So I'm thankful I've made at least one good decision.

So there you have it, folks. It's not very warm and fuzzy, but it's honest. Happy Turkey Day!*




*Oh, and it's apparently official Thank-Your-First-Commenter day for bloggers. Ummm this is hard, since this is a reincarnation of my old blog, which surely was first commented on by my friend Andersen, who totally coded the thing and gave it to me in pieces and held my hand as I uploaded everything to my computer. I'm pretty sure he did it because he was tired of me going on endless diatribes about absolutely nothing and figured that if I got it out of my system by spewing my angst into the void of the internet, I'd be up for talking about more fun things, like favorite sexual positions and most embarrassing drunken moments. So thank you, Andersen. I wouldn't be writing this now if not for your perviness.

Honorable mention goes to Placebo, who was the first to comment here. She rarely comments, and when she does, it makes sense only to me and maybe 3 other people, but it always makes me laugh, and let's face it. I blog. Therefore I'm narcissistic.