Hope you all are snuggled up with your family and enjoying the day off! I’m snuggled up with the Mouse fam and I’m already stuffed full of cheese eggs and “making stuffing” (read: writing this post while Miss Mouse chops things). My high school was supposedly in the Macy’s Parade, but I didn’t see them, so I’m beginning to suspect I’ve been lied to.
Anywho, I heard this poem recently and I think it’s beautiful, and somehow appropriate for Thanksgiving. Hopefully you agree:
Happy Monday, y’all! I hope you all had gluttonous and drunken Thanksgivings, just as the Pilgrims intended.
On Saturday night after falling asleep circa 10 p.m. while attempting to research for a paper (RAGEEEEE), I had a really disturbing dream. There’s this newsletter that I’m supposed to be writing for one of my internships, and it’s been hanging over my head for months and stressing me out on a regular basis. I needed to get it done, oh, in September, so every time I think about it I get heart palpitations and feel like a bad person. Such a bad person, I guess, that in my dream I hired SARAH PALIN to help me finish the newsletter. SARAH. PALIN. I know what you’re thinking: “Mallory, she was a journalism major, and she did just write a book, in only a few months. The talent!” To which I counter with a very serious “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.” The only good part about this dream was that I got to boss Palin around while she furiously took notes.
In other much, much better news, my mom sent me a really cute video the other day. I’m going to preface the video by telling you that you should not be expecting Beyonce-esque choreography here. The reason I love this video (and why I cried so much) is that it’s just a bunch of normal people having a ton of fun for a really good cause. How great is that?
Speaking of crying, I saw The Blind Side on Thanksgiving. I haven’t cried that hard in a movie since probably a few weeks ago, but guys it was BAD. I was with Kelsey and her fabulous roommate A.J., and Kelsey and I were legitimately making a scene. This means I’ve now seen at least four movies that made me cry so hard that strangers in the theater stared and made comments. Awesome. (UPDATE: This local DC blog has a pretty good guest post discussing The Blind Side and Precious. I saw Precious last Friday and holy jeebus, it was depressing. Good movie, but honestly such a bummer that I’m not sure I’d recommend it to many people.)
And to continue the stream-of-consciousness: A.J. is a really good dancer. One time, he did almost the whole Single Ladies dance while I awkwardly jumped around nearby. The other day, I asked him how long it took him to learn that dance, and he was all, “Oh, that? What do you mean? I didn’t ever really try to learn it. I was just having fun!” Sigh. Don’t you just hate some people?
Thanksgiving is upon us yet again, and I’m currently at work hoping that we will soon get an email saying “LEAVE. NOW. EVERYONE. GOBBLE GOBBLE.” So far, no luck.
I was taking a look at my Thanksgiving post from last year, and I must say: not a whole lot has changed. I’m still thankful for all of that good stuff (like goat cheese and Michael Franti and not being pregnant). Yesterday in my Pilates class, while we were doing a move called “the teaser,” the instructor asked us to think only of things we were thankful for. No bad thoughts like “hot DAMN this is hard!” I thought that was kind of sweet.
This year I’ll be spending Thanksgiving here in DC with Kelsey and a couple other lovely people, and we are forgoing the traditional feast-and-family route in favor of Korean spas and fancy dinners. I’ll let you know how that goes.
While we’re at it, I’ve gotta confess: World, I am thankful for Jason Segel. Even though I’m very NOT thankful that he pulled this stunt at the Swell Season concert in LA rather than the one in DC. Asshole.
Eat lots of delicious things tomorrow, and be happy about all you’ve got going for you. Gobble gobble!
You end a sentence/phrase with a preposition, your AP English teacher has a heart attack. You arrange a sentence/phrase so that it doesn’t end in a preposition, you sound like an elitist douche. When given the choice, I’ll obviously go for the latter.
Anyway, seeing that Madeline (the “guest” slash obviously permanent blogger) has beat me to breaking our dry spell, I was overwhelmed with Catholic guilt. Friends, it’s not that I haven’t wanted to blog in the past few days. I really have. It’s just that I’ve been too overwhelmed with work, to the point that blogging would have caused me even more Catholic guilt. So I cut my losses.
Now that I’m home on break, I have a little more time on my hands. In light of the upcoming holiday o’ food, I’ve decided to share a random list of some things for which I am thankful. In no particular order…
1. Stovetop stuffing. And while we’re at it, the cranberry sauce that looks like the can in which it came (now I’m super paranoid about the preposition thing, dammit). We’re not exactly fancy in my family.
2. Michael Franti. I saw him for the first time back in July, and I fell further in love with him when I saw him at the 9:30 Club in DC last Wednesday. Even if you think you wouldn’t like his music, I’d encourage you to go to one of his concerts. He has an amazing ability to put on the BEST SHOW EVER. His energy is just unbelievable. It didn’t hurt that he made me laugh, made me cry, and made me chant “Barack Obama” all in the span of three hours. And perhaps most impressively, Mr. Franti makes me feel like I’m a good dancer, even when I’m sober (!!!). Take a look at my favorite song off of his newest album:
If you don’t like that song, you should probably just give up on life. You clearly don’t have a soul.
3. While we’re thinking about him, Barack Obama. And Michelle, Malia, and Sasha. Also Joe and Jill Biden.
4. That my finger didn’t entirely fall off today at the nail salon. The entire story would call for a blog post in itself, but I’ll just say that it involved a bloody electric buffer, a sadistic manicurist, and sanitation standards that would have made a cockroach shudder.
5. My ability to entertain myself. My friend Rachel thinks that I could have my own reality show because of the embarrassing shit I do in the privacy of my own space. I’m not sure I agree with her (although, hey, people do watch The Real Housewives of Atlanta), but I am grateful for this skill of mine. The other day, for instance, I caught myself singing “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” Out loud. In a British accent. Riiiight.
6. That I’m not pregnant.
7. That I’m not morbidly obese. (I honestly think about this on a daily basis.)
8. Goat cheese, breakfast sandwiches, salsa, bourbon, etc. etc.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow! I hope that all of our lovely readers will get to spend it surrounded by friends and family and with yummy, delicious food. Ready for the guilt trip? Just like every year, this year there will be many individuals and families whose tables are empty and this year, there will be even more.
Nationally, demand at local food banks is up 25-40% as more middle class families, who used to be donors, are seeking assistance in this troubled economy. Donations have either stayed at the same rate or increased slightly but not enough to cover the increased demand. This will be a continued problem, through 2009, but the Holidays are a great time to start helping. Please visit Feeding America (formerly Second Harvest of America) to find a food bank near you and see how you can help. A lot of families rely on their local food bank to put food on their table so please, keep them in mind. Any donation will be greatly appreciated and will help to feed a family in need.
So that’s our PSA. We’ll get back to the snark shortly.