Thanks?

There was something spectacular I was going to write about. But I've had two habanero bloody marys and I've forgotten.

So typical.

Because of my pesky penchant for blackouts I wondered if I was an alcoholic (just like my pesky penchant for dick years prior made me wonder if I was a slut). Well, that mystery has certainly been solved since I actually went online, took the quiz and discovered, thanks to Al-Anon.com, that I AM an alcoholic.

I took the quiz vicariously for the majority of my friends, and, they're alcoholics too.

I wonder if I should tell them?

Anyways . .. I was probably going to write about Thanksgiving. And about how being around my family simultaneously dances upon my very last, frayed nerve while bringing sentimental tears to my eyes. I love them. I hate them. I hate to love them, love to hate them and so on.

I doubt there's any other family in which I truly belong.

Probably not . . . I've seen a lot of well-adjusted, malfuctioning, emotionally depraved, sickeningly loving, twisted, straight-edge andall around fucked up familial units. And I'm pretty sure after extensive informal research that I am definitely not adopted.

My beautiful cousin Karrill made me sad for me, for her this holiday. Apparently her fiance had given her the "too fat for own our health" discussion and had given her a mere week to step up her health and weight gain. Game. Of course, any sane person would know that this isn't nearly long enough to start to change your mind and attitude enough to make any impact on your body.

Words were exchange.
Insults throttled like the engine of a Maserati.
Each one of them raced off alone into single. Without checking the rearview mirror.
And although I'm sad for her, I'm also sad for him.

He's lost a lion. We're lions, Karrill and I. We've learned from Benelia and Sharon and Lillie Mae that there simply isn't any other way to be. There really isn't any other way to be.

We don't know how.