8 minutes

I have exactly 8 minutes to post. Why I am doing this now, I have no idea. I should be rereading the outpouring that was my "personal statement" last night. I feel like my brain just spilled out onto the page. I almost teared up for a minute. Not sure why.

Ok, now I only have 5 minutes, so I don't think that's long enough to post all the weird things about me, but I'll try:

1. I wash my feet every night before getting into bed - even if I showered like a half hour before. I like to be clean in my bed. I also like to take care of my feet.

2. I think I am having a love affair with a place. I hate being away from it, I do ridiculous things (like drive a total of 10 hours for a mere 36 there), and I keep it on a pedastal. It's like a freaking disease, seriously.

3. I like order but my room is a disaster. I think I avoid it because it can never be orderly - so it's not even worth the time to attempt to fix.

4. I cried once when my grandfather cooked clams. I felt so sorry for them.

time's up. More later.

THANKSgiving

Well, normally Quinn and I sleep in, get up, establish space on the couch in the family room during the parade and then the dog show that's usually on USA until I squeal with delight at seeing the Springer Spaniel (or maybe this is New Year's Day...I forget), eat something, probably move to the basement, then there is the general round of showers and then we relocate to the G-rents' house.

There we stuff ourselves with veggies, dip, chips, and peanuts, and split cokes with the good ice cubes that Grandma Rosie buys at the grocery rather than making the big ones like we do. Normally there is knitting involved and the parents/grandparents talk and talk. We eat dinner at the table set with special little place cards and small pilgrim figurines (our ancestors came over on the Mayflower, which I obsessed about during my colonial phase). We have turkey, mashed potatoes, dressing, cranberry sauce (usually made with Nova Scotia cranberries picked by the G-rents themselves), salad, wine, and then pumpkin pie.

Oh, and it's normally around Quinn's birthday, so she also opens presents. Then she and I retire to the basement where we watch TV until Mom decides that Dad has napped long enough on the couch and it is time to go home.

Jishka shared Thanksgiving with us for a couple of years, so she knows the drill. This entire story may seem very normal to you, but I assure you, my family is still a huge circus - even though there are only 6 of us.

and good-bye makes the journey harder still

I'm continuing to see how I am alway sad at the end of things, despite any vast array of good and bad feelings I felt toward whatever I am saying goodbye to. It's the end of something and with that brings the possibility of never having it back or knowing that it will never be the same even if I do have it back again. What if that thing was actually so good relative to the things that lie in the future? I think that that scares me.

try #239506984960 (approximately)

So everytime I sit down I feel like writing something. So I sign right in and then watch the cursor blink and then sign out.

So now I've written something, and am signing out.