Thanksgiving

My sister and I drank a bottle of wine the night before Thanksgiving and stayed up until 5:30 talking about archetypes in television and literature, and penises.

I've never drank with my sister before, and to have her suggest it is a breaking-down of taboos. Often she dislikes for me to talk about guys because it worries her, but she was surprisingly open after a couple mudslides.

Mom got up at around two to see what the giggles were about, and two hours later she went back to bed. The three of us women know each other better than anyone else, but for some reason we get too caught up in being family that we forget to be each others' friends.

I would have flown all the way here just for that night.

I'm also taking care of my car, too, which is an unforseen expense and responsibility. This is to be expected, though, when one owns a car. It is my honor, though, to have the means to supply a car to my brother while he goes to college, though.

I could just sell it, because I don't need it in New York, but he needs it, so I'll get it taken care of.

Still haven't seen my fathers, but that will come later.

And Lindsay: it feels so normal to be around her, and it always will. I'm so happy she came, and it's funny mama forgot she was coming, but we all loved having her here.