22 November 2007

ode to a holiday season which thusfar seemed pretty bleak.

When the best part of your life no longer wants to be yours, it's time to take stock of what you have to live for. The holidays have always meant family (read family and friends who are like family) to me, but this year, single and with family and friends sparser than ever, I've had to stare down the real meaning of Thanksgiving: the giving thanks part.

I am thankful to have been born with all five of my senses, able-bodied and (so far as I can tell) able-minded. I am thankful for all ten of my fingers and everything they can and ever will do for me. I am thankful to have been born in a place where electricity, hot water, internet access, and all manner of mundane luxuries are the norm. I am thankful to have been born in California, where Reno, Vegas, San Francisco, Hawaii and LA are just a jump away. I am still privileged, even if I'm not proud, to be an American. I am thankful for the people brave enough to fight our wars, regardless of my acute misgivings about the wars. I am thankful to have two jobs I love, which is two more than I had last year at this time. I am thankful to have college available to me, even if I'm waffling and unable to take it on right now.

I am thankful for the way conflict and sheer time have sloughed off insincere and fickle friends. A man is like a stone in a stream, and when the tide runs high and the waters run harsh and cold, there are very few people who won't wash away with it. I am thankful for the gems who still remain after the storm. I think you know who you are. I am thankful for a best friend who remains closer than ever after thirteen years of growing up. I am thankful for the time I had with Sean, though what I'll take away from it in the long run remains to be seen. I am thankful for my mom, who is one of maybe only two people on this earth who loves me truly unconditionally (read: for exactlywho I am, nurturing my strengths and forgiving me my flaws), and I'm grateful that I'm at least wise enough to know how valuable that is. I am thankful that she has been such a good role model. I am thankful for all the time my grandparents, who are dead now, spent raising me, and I regret that the reality of their deaths did not set in until after the fact. I am thankful for my dad and his parents, who, despite 20 years of separation, have never forgotten me. I am thankful for the Harrises, who are everywhere in my life now and treat me like family even though the last thing they need is more people in their family (haha), and for the Faifereks, who have saved my butt plenty of times when I was in a bind or just needed a semi-surrogate family, and always treat me like family, no matter how seldom I visit. I am thankful that I have thus far never been homeless, starving, truly alone, or had to weather the death of someone I couldn't live without. Heartbreak has slapped me upside the head more times than I care to think about, but real tragedy has never touched me, and I'm grateful.

I am thankful that I have learned hard lessons already, that I have reached into many of the farthest corners of man's emotional gamut, and regained equilibrium. I am thankful that, despite not believing in god, fate, or the afterlife, I find meaning and purpose in every day of my life. I am thankful that I can cook and draw and paint and write and I am thankful for all the possibilities those abilities may afford me in the future. The list goes on, and it includes small things too. I am thankful to be Irish, and plan to go home some day to drink a ton of Guinness and stand in the presence of ruined castles. I am thankful for The Simpsons, which I still love despite their shitty new episodes, and Futurama, which keeps me distracted and amused when the I can't shake the weight of the things that nag at me. I am thankful for the color orange, and for plaid, and for coffee (!) and for cats, and warm blankets and fire places and beer and pecan pie and... oh, and for Mollly, who is just a dog but still loves me unconditionally, and is probably less of a pain in the ass than a human sister.

I've sworn myself to never forgetting that my problems are relatively small in magnitude. Thank you.

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