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Intellectual House o' Pancakes Webdiary

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2005-11-23 - 10:20 p.m.

WARNING: this is really corny and precious. Read at your own risk.

Where do you begin thanking [insert deity] for all the great things in your life? It's like trying to pick a favorite song--nearly impossible but worth trying every so often, and much more manageable if you limit it to one year at a time.

So, on this eve o' Thanksgiving 2005, I am thankful for (in no particular order)

Integral Yoga Institute

Being employed

My beautiful little spinster apartment in the greatest neighborhood in the greatest borough of the greatest city

The married-couple supers of my apt. building who barely speak a word of English and yet manage to convey unmistakeable kindness and conviviality in their gestures, expressions, and actions.

That little slice o'heaven called the iPod Mini

The Internetz, which provide connection for a lot of people, and allow me to keep in touch, on an almost daily basis, with people who I otherwise would relegate to long-gone.

Alky-hol, which has provided me with some humbling and educational and even some fun moments this past year

Marshall Rosenberg, who wrote one of the most helpful books I've ever read, and who is quietly making this world a more compassionate place to live.

My ex-husband, who remains one of my closest friends and the best dog-dad in Chicago, and our nearly drama-free parting. (Although I recently learned that one of my nephews refers to him jokingly as "The Bastard," for which I am also thankful).

The above-mentioned canines who, even from afar, provide me great amusement and love.

My siblings whose friendship grows increasingly important to me, and my niblings, who are adorable and of whom I am very proud, even though I am the bad aunt who doesn't visit often enough.

My dad, a complicated guy who nevertheless is an ongoing example of generosity, guilelessness, and practical mysticism

My ghost-mom, who still inspires

My friends, who for all practical purposes are my family, and who keep me--wait, I was going to say "sane," but that's not quite true--who keep me propped upright and amused and thus alive. You know who you are, and you probably are reading this.

Music in general, rock music in particular, and all the people who care enough about sharing their experiences that they would climb up onstage and sing it into a microphone---what nerve!


The Brooklyn Public Library

The rabbi/bartender from Detroit who taught me a thing or two about love

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

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