thanksgiving sucks.
I've tried to do this 3 times now and it keeps getting erased. Bloody masochist...

I've been up since 6:30, making breakfast, washing dishes and banging my knee against the coffee table. My grandmother thinks this is hysterical. Apparently I've discovered that seeing loved ones in physical pain is the one thing that makes her happier than Bob Barker or Chuck Norris. (On an unrelated note, Grandma thinks that Chuck Norris is the "only real man.") In addition to this family wickedness, my 7-year-old cousin hates me all of a sudden and I suspect it's because I gave him cranberry juice rather than the cranberry-orange blend he prefers. Alas. On a more productive note, my aunt has just given me a quiz that told me not only that I'm in the right profession, but also that I am "creative, spontaneous and motivated by future possibilities." Who knew. Personally, I prefer emode quizzes, the kind that let me know "what his zodiac says about him."

Anyway, I'm going back to the kitchen so I can start stuffing (or, I mean, watch someone else start stuffing) the big, rubbery, poultry-looking object. In preparation for the feast to come, I will also begin hourly maalox shots while watching the parade from where it is best viewed--mom and dad's couch (ie. my bed for the next 2 days).
- posted by liz @ 11/27/2003 10:23:00 AM