happy thanksgiving!

When I came home for Thanksgiving this year, I made a vow to read a book (it’s been months) and to make sure not to stuff my face to the point of violent self-loathing. I can’t say either of these goals were accomplished. I’ve only read the first page of the introduction to Brothers Karamazov (maybe not the best book choice for someone who literally only reads Target circulars), and today I ate sooooo much food that when I look down, I can’t see my feet. That’s right, my stomach has grown so bloated, overbearing, and impregnated with stuffing that it obstructs the view to my feet.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Thanksgiving isn’t about reading or eating reasonable, humane portions of food. It’s about gathering around a table with loved ones and family and celebrating all that is good in life, an exercise we should do considerably more frequently, and eating until we cry. I am thankful for so many things—my family, my sun and stars Rocky (the dog), beautiful and thoughtful friends, the taco joint next to my apartment, Netflix, Obama, all of my limbs, my brain, my dreams, my camouflage snuggie, and sandwiches.

Happy Thanksgiving, guys. Thanks for reading this silly blog and thanks for all of your wonderfully kind words of support. It means the world to me.

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2 thoughts on “happy thanksgiving!

  1. Peter Krynski says:

    Dear S&S,

    Fat is beautiful in your case at age 22. But later on in life where I am it’s a killer, diabetes, cardiovascular..I have a tough time walking up anything hills, stairs. It was real tough for me to walk up the 60 steps from Queens Boulevard to the 7 elevated platform. I’d heave for oxygen when I got up there. Now I’ve moved to California where I drive everywhere. My cardiologist says it’s lose weight or die. And I’m not so hugely overweight either, well, just mildly obese. Lose 10 lbs. and I’m only overweight. I’ve seen people my weight jogging. It’s so unfair. I got pulmonary emboli, blood clots which traveled up my legs into my lungs to block the intake of oxygen for which I had surgery. I always told myself I’d lose weight if and when something happened. Now something’s happened, but I’m like the guys diagnosed with lung cancer who begs for another cigarette. I remember reading an article in the Corriere della Sera about a year ago. My Italian is not so great but I made it out.

    The fattest woman in England is hospitalized to lose weight or die. She begs her visiting relatives to sneak her in some Fish and Chips because the hospital food is so bad. Incredibly they comply. She eats. It pushes her over the edge. She dies.

    Fat is voluptuous in women but only to a point, after which people don’t want to be seen in public with her.

    I really enjoy getting up on my high horse and delivering a lecture from that elevated perch. But to tell the truth, I haven’t succeeded in even wanting to stop eating, despite hearing many of the same ominous warnings. I really enjoy your unrestricted, exuberant enthusiasm for food. It’s fun for me.

    But it.can’t last. There’s a price to pay. I’m sure they’re right about that and I can see the message creeping up on me.

    Hope you won’t have to pay it.

    But what the hell, if you do, have fun. I am.

    P.S. I tried to read the Brother K a few years ago when the new translation came out. They say it’s the best novel ever. I thought if I could get it under my belt, well, maybe I could write a great novel. Maybe you don’t need to read someone else just to write, just like you do which is so funny but more.

    Write, write, write everything you feel like, all the time.

    Thanks for your time.


  2. […] happy thanksgiving! […]

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