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So, Happy Thanksgiving!  I took the day off to enjoy being alive and to be thankful for things like how happy the Rockettes make me, how adorably skinny my son’s legs look when he is stomping around in his father’s boots, my mother’s attempts to buy out Toys R Us, and my husband’s laugh.  And Indian food.  We have Indian for Thanksgiving.

I hope you had a good day.  Mine was a mix of happiness, sleepiness, napping, laughing, and deep satisfaction (thanks to India Palace and that nap) so it was one of the good ones.

Now, it’s time to turn on the Christmas music so that I can wish to never hear another jingle bell ever by December 25.  Ching-ching-ching!

Because whenever I mention the woes of having calves the circumference of Scarlett O’Hara’s pre-Bonnie Blue Butler waist several of you woe right back, I am delighted to tell you that www.dots.com has a nice variety of wide shaft boots at insanely reasonable prices.  They also have regular shaft boots as well.  /PSA

I started my Christmas shopping last night, and I bought The Dangerous Book for Boys Classic Chemistry set for Thor (that links you to Amazon.  it was nearly $10 cheaper where I bought it at Barnes and Noble.)  I had two thoughts:

1. I am going to be doing a lot of chemistry.
2. Where is the set for girls?  Why is the set gendered in the first place?  To whom do I apply to register my deep dissatisfaction?

I nearly boycotted the kit on the basis of it being “for boys”, but it has all the ingredients to make a stink bomb and that will make Thor laugh so hard that I don’t want to miss it.

I also bought him a junior chef set (it’s high time the boy learned to make his own PBJs) and a book about Babe Ruth (it’s high time the boy started to believe that it isn’t striking out that matters, it’s having the courage to swing again.)  I bought myself some yarn (it’s high time I started eating lunch at work again, and if I am knitting, I won’t feel like I’m wasting the time left over after I eat.  I did not buy the kit with the patterns for crocheting cupcakes, but I seriously considered it.)

In other, unrelated babbling, I saw a post on FB the other day that said something about how much wisdom there is in the Wizard of Oz.  My immediate reaction?  “Don’t stand under the flying monkeys!”  I asked B if he thought flying monkeys flung poo like real ones.  He’s probably glad I only let slide about half the thoughts I’m thinking.  About 10% make it past my filter in real society. 

Finally, my television complaints of late.  There may be SPOILERS here, so read at your own risk.

• Boardwalk Empire has killed off the last remaining bit of eye candy.
• and yet Gyp Rosetti still lives.
• On Homeland, why does Jessica call her husband by his last name?  Who does that?
• Modern Family: Do Cam and Mitchell even like each other anymore?

On the advice of Yelp and Urban Spoon, B and I tried out the Zenzero Bakery today.  Overall, I’d say it was good.  I had half a turkey panini and a salad, and it was one of the better turkey sandwiches I’ve had.  B had the roast beef and said it was okay. The chips were tasty.  However, the coffee was godawful.  I say that, and I’ll drink just about any coffee.  This coffee was disgusting.

B and I agreed that Zenzero felt a little like Austin.  It’s that place in town (and every town has one) where you can be assured of service by only the grandest representatives of the current decade’s most definitive subculture.  So, if you’d eaten there in the 80s, a Goth creature would have served you.  In the 90s, Kurt Cobain’s Grunge doppleganger would have served you.  In the 00s–we couldn’t figure out what subculture the 00s had–but for the 10s, you’ll be greeted by friendly, professional Hipsters.

The place is overpriced, but it is cozy and nice, and my sandwich was REALLY good, and I’d like to get Thor’s opinion of the cupcakes.  I’d go back, but not for coffee.

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Somehow, B and I got on the topic of strip clubs.  I maintain that they just aren’t the cleanest places around, and I don’t want to go sit anywhere that it is likely someone just had a fun time with himself, you know?  But I realize when people go to strip clubs, hygiene isn’t what they have on their minds.

I also don’t get the point of male strip clubs because there is absolutely nothing appealing to me about the Banana Hammock.  There is also nothing appealing to me about oiled up men, wearing banana hammocks and work boots, gyrating and pumping their hips. That just looks…kind of dumb.  But, in talking about it, I think I have struck upon the perfect kind of strip club for ladies.

You get men who look like Djimon Hounsou, David Beckham, or any other Calvin Klein underwear model ever, and have them in various states of dress scattered throughout a wine bar/restaurant, where women could walk by and admire them, you’d have something.  Then, it’s less a sausage fest of campy grossness and more an art exhibit of gloriousness.  To  make it extra nice, you could pay these guys to sit down and talk to you for 30 minutes, while looking you in the eye, holding your hand and pretending to be interested in what you have to say–the female equivalent of a man getting a lap dance.

I still wouldn’t go because I would feel creepy about staring at people in their underwear while other people watched me stare, but I wouldn’t laugh at anyone else for going.

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I took Thor to a movie last week, and we wandered down to a kiddieland after we saw it.  He started to run in, but I halted him so he could read the sign that said only people 42″ or shorter could play there.  This look crossed his face and it was equal parts agony and delight.  He is now 47″ tall.  He was too tall to play there.  He was too tall to play there!!

He took it in stride, disappointed until I offered to take him to the park instead.  As we headed to the park he said, “Yeah, and I bet I could rule that place!  If only I weren’t too tall.”

I am just going to cut and paste the complete introduction from Lainey Gossip this morning.  It is so important to remember that no child ever thinks to himself, “I want to grow up to be destitute, hungry, and homeless.”  Every homeless person you see was a little guy or girl at one time, and something very bad happened to that child–whether by his or her poor decision making as an adult or not–for them to end up as the adult living on the street.

Remember who you were when you were a young teen, and ask yourself how long you would last if you had to sleep under a bridge.  I have a dear, dear friend who was a homeless teen, and she makes it that much more important for me to keep my own child safe and sound.  No one should ever experience homelessness or hunger, and I am thankful for places that take on the issue and try to offer some resolution.

From Lainey’s website:

Dear Gossips,

Thanks God it didn’t rain. I wish I could post a poignant introduction here about what it was like to sleep outside last night in support of Covenant House Vancouver but, frankly, I’m too tired and too cold to think. We were in a parking lot attached to an alley. There are dumpsters in the alley. The mice were running around the corner. Two pieces of cardboard and a sleeping bag were all we had. I stuffed my extra pair of socks and my mittens into the sleeping bag case and called it a pillow. I spent hours debating later whether or not to sacrifice my neck for my toes, as the temperature eventually got so low I needed another layer on my feet. But it was so cold I didn’t want to move. And the ground is so…hard. You don’t know how hard it is to sleep on concrete until you sleep on concrete. Concrete, also, is not even. At least not in a parking lot. That’s me in the photo below, the second head from the left. 

Besides the cold it’s also the noises. You don’t know what’s coming up behind you. I couldn’t sleep with my glasses on but I worried if I took them off they’d get stolen. Earlier the kids at Covenant House had warned us that it’s not a real night on the street until we got robbed. Or worse. And I had buddies. I wasn’t alone. All night I imagined being alone, how frightening that would be, and how desperately sad, to be cold and scared and defenceless…

Only to wake up and have to do that all over again.

Many street kids wake up from a night on concrete in a parking lot and either have to go to school or work. I can barely work right now and I’m doing it from home and with the promise of a long nap later.

Last night we raised $135,000 for the Covenant House Vancouver 30 Days for 30 Nights campaign to fund our 24 hour crisis shelter for the entire month of December, when the homeless are often loneliest and most despondent. If we meet our campaign goal, it means that every night, 54 kids will be off the streets, in a warm bed, having eaten 3 healthy meals, surrounded by counselors who care and staff who want to help, with access to resources to start rebuilding their lives.

My part of that $135,000 total amounts to over $12,000 and counting thanks to YOUR generosity. This doesn’t include a $1500 donation from the gossips in Brooklyn. And the match. With the match, my total will be close to $33,000 which means that YOU will have sponsored 3 full days and nights at Covenant House Vancouver in December. We’ll be at capacity each of those 3 nights. On those nights, please know that you’ll have given 54 kids, or more, a safe place to stay, some sanctuary from their harsh realities, and hope…that there’s more than just concrete in a parking lot.

Hunger can be eaten away. Cold can be warmed. But for kids on the street, it’s the feeling that they’re irrelevant that’s the most difficult to overcome. Thank you for letting them know that they are NOT unimportant. This was your gift to them.

People slept out for Covenant House all across North America last night. Click here and here to read stories from other Covenant House locations. 

To find a Covenant House in your community, please click here. To support at-risk youth in the UK, please click here. And if you would like to contribute to my campaign total, please click here.

Yours in gossip,

Lainey

Thor’s school extorted a frozen turkey from us this morning.  This meant, because I was too sapped to go fight the grocery store last night, that I got up an hour earlier than usual to go to the grocery store in the a.m.  I bought the smallest turkey available, a 13lb bird, put it in a paper sack and showed Thor how to “carry it like a baby,” so he could get it into the school.  It was kind of funny to watch him waddling down the school breezeway with it. 

For the past five years, we have always had our Thanksgiving dinner at India Palace.  The good of it was that we love Indian food, and didn’t have any dishes to clean up.  The bad of it was that we never had leftovers.  This year, we are going to celebrate with our godfamily, and do it up right.  I am panicking a little because while I’ve never quite learned to cook for only 3 people, I have also never learned to cook for more than 4.  We’ll see what happens.

While I am on Thanksgiving, how about I give some thanks?

I am most thankful for my family and their health, and my health.  I am thankful for the ability to appreciate my family.  Every day I realize how fortunate I am, and I realize that there are probably a thousand little things I take for granted every morning–like clean socks, and good coffee, and hot water, and toothpaste, and toenail clippers (and the ability to reach my own toes), and windshield wipers, and seat warmers–and I am thankful for the luxury of taking those things for granted.

If you’ve got a dollar left over to share with someone less fortunate, and you aren’t sure where to give, consider adding that dollar to a tip you leave someone.  Having been a server, I can tell you that every cent adds up!