obligatory Thanksgiving gratefulness list paragraphs
The other day I was thinking about writing a “thankful for” list for this blog, and immediately got whiny and self-pitying, in my mind, over all the little things for which I’m not grateful this year. Then, right after that, I had a Thanksgiving Miracle Revelation: All my worries are first world worries. (I learned that phrase from Jackie.) That means all my problems are trite things that 98% of the people in the world wish were the only things they had to worry about. Things that the me of ten, five, or even two years ago would have been happy to trade for my worries of the moment. Things like “zomg, when am I gonna be able to fix the shower in one of the bathrooms in the house that I can still totally afford because I got a prime loan and not an adjustable rate mortgage?” And like, “I’m so sad I barely have time to write these things that people are paying me to write after I get home from the job where I’m well paid and respected for my skills!” And things like “Oh noes, I have to consult with my traffic court lawyer on this BS ticket scam that East Chickenfoot, TX is trying to run before my license comes up for renewal a year from now.”
And, I mean, we have plenty to eat and plenty of air conditioning and/or heat as we need it, and more clothes and toys than we can use in a year, and our cats are fat. And we’re healthy, knock on wood. So… thank God, right? Thank God for everything we have, and for the Indians feeding the pilgrims that day and giving us yet another excuse to chill out with our family and friends and eat more than usual. Life is good. Thank y’all for existing, so that your silent existence would force me to think of a list of things that would reveal to me how very, very lucky I am.
/cheese
A lot of crazy stuff is going on with my day-job company, just like it is for all of yours, I’m sure. Here’s hoping every one of us ends up where we need to be. A couple of our friends have been laid off recently, and we’re crossing our fingers for them.
One of my friends has been sick as hell, and my fingers are crossed for her, too. Most of my friends are doing well, and I’m glad.
I’m super, super busy til December 1, polishing my second novel. After/amongst that, I’m gearing up to promote the first novel and the second kids’ book. Between those, I’m hosting Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve at my house. My cousin is hosting Christmas this year, and she just told me that we might have to break down and form a Super Family Style Tamale Assembly Line, Just Like Back in the Day. I like to think that my first kids’ book (see Tamale book, linked at right) was part of the inspiration for that scheme. 
The part you don’t see in the kids’ book is one of the cousins saying “And, while we make the tamales, we’ll drink wine.” But it might have been implied. Hard to say — hard to interpret one’s own work, to be objective about one’s subconcious literary intent. You’ll have to read the book and read between the lines. Are Ana’s cousins drinking wine while they spread the masa? You will have to be the judge on that one. Then you’ll have to let me know. This year I want to try to make my friend Letty’s mom’s “drunken tamales,” which are filled with beans and cabbage. Sounds weird, but tastes freaking awesome. Believe.
Okay, no more stream of conscience blogging.
It’s time to get back to work. Everybody pray for me, that I can work super hard and get everything done. I’m sending good wishes to everyone out there who has art they want/need to complete, whether they read my blog or not. Because I’m starting to believe that’s one of the best things people can do to stay happy while navigating our vale of tears: make art when you feel the need. Despite time constraints. Despite the negativity of others. Despite the nagging feeling that you’re supposed to be doing something else.
If I don’t talk to y’all before Thanksgiving, I hope you have a good one. If you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, then I hope you have a bunch of really good days in November.
