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November 30, 2005 - 9:01 am

RED

I’ve been away a while, so I’ll do a quick recap before I get all preachy on your ass.

FAMILY CRAP:

1. Thanksgiving entailed my riding to Tallahassee, Florida with a bad back in a monstrously large Suburban with my bitter, angry sister and her jaded thirteen-year-old daughter with “an unpleasant disposition” as my grandmother so politely puts it. I made a complete fool of myself with my sister and cousin at the only bar open on Thanksgiving day, TGIFridays. Yep. We should have known it was going to end badly when my sister and I started the evening by comparing vibrator features. I sang into a beer bottle. I belched. I complained about my back and told really long boring stories. I laid flat on my back and adjusted it with yoga moves on the sidewalk outside the bar. It was not pretty, people.

2. The kids spent the holiday with their dad at his brother’s farm in upper North Carolina, around Nag’s Head. His brother and his wife have eleven children – all theirs. They saw three animals die, including a goat that was chased into the lake by one of the family dogs and drowned, a rabbit (not the one named Samantha, another one), and an 800 pound cow that had just given birth a month before. The Girl Genius was pretty traumatized about the goat (“I had to stand there and watch while it died.”), but oddly felt not so much love for the rabbit (“It’s winter; it’s harsh.”). As for the cow, the family backhoe is apparently out of commission at the moment (don’t we all know what a bitch that is!), so John and Paul BURNED THE COW. Yes, a bovine funeral pyre. This is how my children spent Thanksgiving. It’s a wonder they didn’t catapult the thing into the yard of the heathen neighbors, blazing in the name of our Lord.

SOME RELATED ITEMS FOR CONSIDERATION:

1. Regrettable Food. Be sure to click the “the punch line” on the last page.

2. Poke the Bunny! Oddly satisfying.

3. Lighter fluid not included.

RUNNIN’ WITH MY POSSE:

1. My miscellaneous birthday came and went with a couple of celebrations, including a party given to me by thoughtful Kristie. All my friends were there; I felt so loved. I also had an impromptu little dinner celebration at my house, where I also felt so loved and got so drunk.

2. Nicole and I are trying hard to drink less and exercise more. We’ve planned a February indoor triathlon, but I’ve pulled my back doing the unthinkable: I got up out of a chair! Reckless! Nicole stopped accusing me of sandbagging after we went out for beers the other night and all I did was whine about my back and tell really long stories. Now she’s accusing me of boring the athletic motivation right out of her. You say ‘sandbagging;’ I say ‘strategery.’

3. Erik is still pissed at me. Actually, he says he’s not pissed, but that I’ve “fallen from grace,” whatever that means. Okay, I’m fairly certain it means he disapproves of all the men I’m about to mention and all those I’ll be leaving out too.

PUT THAT OLIVE OIL RIGHT BACK IN THAT CABINET, MISTER:

1. I ended it with the Professor. Man, I just couldn’t keep up with that guy.

2. The South African seems to have lost interest in me, which is a pity because he was a cutie, and there was no danger of attachment on my part. I just wanted some good lovin’, dang it.

3. I also broke it off with the hot Soldier, ten years my junior, because I was afraid he was getting way too into me. But he was so nice! He made me feel like a princess, and I’ve never really allowed anyone to do that. Maybe I’ll call him up again. I’m feeling sort of vulnerable and Rapunzel-y lately. Maybe I should just get a haircut instead.

*UPDATE*
I just got that haircut,

but I'm still thinking about Soldier boy.

THE WATER COOLER:

1. I have too much work to ever get done in this century. This is good.

2. I’m putting in more time at work lately, and this is obviously good too, as it indicates maybe, maybe this oppressive, drive-stealing depression is moving its foggy ass on out of the dark, shadowy valley that is my divorced, under-sexed, strained backed self who, inconveniently, has seemed to be most dark and shadowy during work hours.

IN OTHER NEWS:

1. I’ve contributed to a few democrats’ campaigns over the years, and they often write to hit me up for more. Today I discovered a letter from Ted Kennedy among a stack of mail I picked up from John’s house.

Me: Oooo! Look! A letter from Teddy!
John: Hey, maybe he’s looking for a date for some upcoming function he’ll be in town for.
Me: That’d be cool. As long as he’d let me drive. I’d have to insist on that.

2. The Barbecue Reviews are seriously piling up. We’ve hit Daddy D’z, Harold’s, and WW The Boss (twice). We’ve recruited Nicole to go with us, and we’ve changed to Thursdays. I know, I know. You’re DYING for more reviews. I’ll get right on those.

3. Listening to NPR this morning, the kids and I heard a story of an impoverished French suburb of mostly North Africans. Steve Innskeep says something about attempting to improve conditions by instilling “a sense of belonging.” So Boy Wonder says, “'A sense of belonging?' More like 'a sense of pickling, Steve Innskeep.'” Yeah, I have no idea either.

THE PREACHY PART:

1. I’m tired and my back hurts, so I’ll spare you the soap box rant today. Consider it an early Christmas gift, suckas.

~Samantha

recommended:
reading -The Tale of Despereaux by Kate Dicamillo
viewing -Good Night and Good Luck
listening -"Carmina Burana" played by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus

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