Thanksgiving

I went through the motions - the house was cleaned, I spent the day cooking and for some reason felt compelled to glance at the Macy's parade on TV periodically. This is what people do on Thanksgiving, right?? I don't know, my vegan menu was already boasting a "fuck you" to tradition, what do I care?

I smiled when I saw my sister's face at the door. Then there were my parents. They came without hugs. We fussed over the animals and over getting the rest of the food heated and set out.

We stared and chewed. We talked about the food. My sister and I exchanged retarded faces. Let's be honest, she's the only thing fun about family time. Recently, I've come to realize that I have no idea who my parents are. I don't know what they do, I don't know what they like. I have a theory that neither of them really like anything at all. I guess when I was younger, I thought all this was normal. If one of them died today, I would have no idea what to say about them at their funeral. "Mom went to church a lot...she really liked reading books...And she liked the color purple..." It bothered me for a while...but it really didn't motivate me to "talk" to them or spend more time with them. I think I've realized...I really don't care. I'm serious. Maybe I'm a terrible person, but I prefer to blame them. You get what you give, ya know?

So, we stuffed our faces and sat around making more lame conversation, just waiting for the moment when we'd have room for pie. Pie. Coffee.

They left without hugs.

Thanksgiving is silly. But I do like cooking and eating lots.

Someone Else's Shoes

I am a thrift store whore. Most of you know this about me. I believe in recycling, that one person's junk is another's treasure. I also believe in buying second-hand as a way of being less of a mass consumer, avoiding industry that employs sweatshops, takes advantage of people, etc. Also, I am cheap.

But sometimes, you get what you pay for...

Over the weekend Andrew and I were browsing one of the Goodwills in Frederick. I was wandering around the shoe section when I suddenly found myself in front of a badass pair of Chucks. I freaking loooooove me some Chuck Taylors. I have several pairs already, in the hopes of one day being the proud owner of a rainbow-like display of Chucks in various colors and patterns. These were nice and worn in, pink with red hearts all over them. Awesomely girly. I checked the size: one size too big, but I tried them on, they felt fine. I already have one pair that's too big and they really aren't that bad. Plus I have midget feet anyway, so a size larger actually looks normal on me. I snagged them and walked up to Andrew with a cheesy grin and held them up, beaming over my find. Four bucks later, they were mine.

So, this morning I decide it's time to bust them out. I'm all excited. I put my left foot in and laced it up. Awesome. I put my right foot in and...what the crap?! It feels all huge and weird. I look at the bottoms. THEY ARE TWO DIFFERENT SIZES!!!!! What the hell?! Who buys shoes in two different sizes?! I was SO bitter. But you know what? They are awesome and I'm not giving up on them. Yes, I wore them anyway. I'm that freaking ghetto. So I'm currently wearing one shoe that is a size too big and one that's TWO sizes too big. Beat that.

You can never be too pure or too connected.

So, I've decided what I want to be when I grow up. I want to do photography for half of my weekly working hours and spend the other half getting paid to collect and stare at bugs all day. I think this is totally realistic. No?

Man, it's been raining for DAYS. It's starting to get depressing. Poor Quincy is restless.

Hmm...ok, that's really about all I have to say.

Harmacy

I drove through the most insane fog on the way to work this morning. It was like all the land in Washington and Frederick counties was protesting the warmth of the air for this time of year. Thick white fog that went on for miles.

I dragged myself out of my car and shuffled my way towards the building, my head feeling as cloudy as the drive in. I hate my job. I've become another self-loathing, job-hating American. Exactly what I swore I'd never be. It didn't start out this way. I used to love my job, I used to care about it. I even felt excited and passionate about it. But, things changed... I came here to work on HIV, I wanted to make a difference, to do something I cared about. Our workload is different now...we lost a big government contract for some unknown reason. We no longer have any HIV vaccine studies, only studies for monkeypox (for biodefense, better smallpox vaccines, etc). Sure, I think we need a better/safer smallpox vaccine, but suffice it to say I'm a little less than passionate about finding one. I'm just no longer doing what I came here to do. And on top of that, there's a personal conflict with someone that is driving me insane. It's time to leave. I need a new job, a new place, new things to do. But, these things don't happen overnight...

In the meantime, I'm trying to embrace the cold, searching daily for jobs in Ann Arbor, gazing at the house I'm in love with there, and trying to figure out what I want out of my next job and life in general.

Election

Election day came and went. I voted, of course. (Hey, lots of people don't.) Though I'm quite happy with the Maryland and national results, I have to say I'm pretty ashamed to be a Virginian today. I can't believe the Virginia Marriage Amendment passed! Well...I guess I can, but it's still disappointing. Bad Virginia, bad!

Empty

I feel like I'm in slow motion. Like I'm detached from the world and this day. Maybe it's the weekend catching up with me. I don't know why it was so upsetting for me, I barely knew her. But, I know my friend...and I know I feel sad for him...and I know what it's like to watch someone very close to you slip away, slowly and quietly in illness. I know it's silly to feel apologetic for being sad, like I don't have a right to my feelings.

Sunday was the hardest...watching people mill about the room, unsure what to say or do... Looking at photos, viewing someone's life from beginning to end, from baby to child, to girl, to woman, to mother. I was no better than the rest. Probably worse... I could have said something instead of just being there, but what is there to say...?