I have journalers guilt, therefor I will place a CUT where a 5000 word essay should be. :~p

I admit it! Since I am home most days, and only do WORK online and by phone for WYSE, I have Trillian open all of the time.

I have a few people I talk to. Idle chit chat mostly. Small talk and that.um…mostly.

My RL friends don’t show up much. Some folks I’d hope to log on NEVER log on.

But last night…wooohooo…a VERY good friend ‘o mine signed on. She has not been on for months. We have not spoken since July. She is one of my favorite people, of the female persuasion, on this planet. All of my friends from Venus are much cooler. heh

I won’t try to describe our connection, because I can’t. ok, maybe i will… it’s a soul connection. We deffinately recognize eachother from a past life, if not past LIVES. She and I have discussed having Turkey Day together at my place. I can’t express how happy that makes me.

I must explain to y’all. I live over 3000 miles from my entire family except my son. Even though I am not a religious person by US standards and don’t celebrate MOST US holidays in the way the mainstream culture does, I have deep connections with some holidays because of my family and friends back east.

One holiday that really has memories and feelings attached to it is Thanksgiving. Listen, I have read PEOPLE’s HISTORY of the UNITED STATES,

As should you! (peek at the Wikkipedia article-it’s a good one)

I don’t sit down to Thankgiving dinner in order to commemorate
breaking bread with folk who wish me malice and want to suplant my spirituality. no sir-e-bob. (I have to say that since I could think for myself I have not once gone to a Comlumbus Day parade…the PHUS, just confirmed what I already knew…thanks Mom)

I sit down, ideally, with my mom, sister, the kids, and usually each has invited one close friend to be our sacrafice…um..victim…er…guest.

I have rarely felt such warmth and laughed so deeply as I have on those days. One year, it got out of hand. My good friend, who I miss dearly, Betzy came to the party and so did my mom’s friend “S”. After two bottles of wine and this amazing Italian desert with RUM mom made, we were rolloing on the floor in laughter. LITERALLY! The entire afternoon had been one inuendo after another. Somehow Thanksgiving ends up that way each time. It’s fabulous!

Friends come over, knowing me well and expecting to have to meter their humor/self in my moms house. They soon realize my mom is me and I am my mom. They can let loose and be the mid west lesbian…hard ass Puerto Rican woman…Chicana powerhouse…they are and it’s all good.

My wish would be to bring all my favorite people and my mom together for Thanksgiving and fill my heart and ears with laughter. But, if that can’t happen….I’ll spend my turkey day with a beautiful, fabulously joyful, Chicana, youth activist, mother, and amazing cook.

You may wonder where my son is in all this? Since he turned 10, each year, he hops from friends house to friends house eating Pork roast, Ham, Turkey, Mac-n-cheese, KFC, apple pie. Friendships are the center of my sons life. When he is done polinating the city with his smile, he comes home and we eat a slice of mom’s apple pie. It’s very sweet and family like.

My son will kill me for telling you this, but our quality time together usually involves me tickling him and MAN is he ticklish.
Even at 15 he squeels like a pig.

Man. I just realized how truly lucky I am.

*sigh*

It’s time to go do morning devotions. I’ll thank the Goddess for my friends and family.

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1 Comment on So, THIS is why I have Trillian open all day

  1. ravyne_hawke says:

    Your Thanksgiving memories sound wonderful. I wish I had such loving memories as those. Unfortunately, Thanksgiving in my house growing up was fragmented. Dad and my brother would leave early in the morning to go hunting. Mom and my sister would usually spend the day in the kitchen making BEEF STEW of all things (it was easier to heat up when Dad and brother came home), and they always made homemade rolls. I was usually left to my devices, which meant reading in my room or watching tv. I was rarely allowed in the kitchen when I was young and up until my sister left home when I was 16 (unless it was to clean dishes after meals, of course). My mom preferred to save turkey and ham for Christmas dinners.

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