Last Thursday of November Notes

1. My favorite Thanksgiving movie is The Morning After (1986), not only because it’s the darkest take on the holiday ever but because of a bloodshot Jane Fonda’s frosted tips and braying incredulity; Jeff Bridge’s DIY duh-hickey cop; Raul Julia’s aviator-sporting, weasely hetero hairdresser; 80s West Coast style (neon pastels and triangles, what ho!); and old school New Yorker Sidney Lumet’s sendup of LA drivers.

2. I am so lucky to have a friend who loves me enough to come over and sweep the glass from my floor, install seltzer in my fridge, rub my back with CBD oil, and do my laundry when I’m flat-out. And I’m even luckier that we’re close enough that, upon doing so, he felt comfortable telling me it was high time I got some new underwear. “Respect your vagina!” he said. This should be the title of everything.

3. It’s a crying shame if actively on brand that the American day of gratitude is founded on hypocrisy (to wit: let’s count our blessings as we rob others of their’s) BUT I’d be remiss if I didn’t take the opportunity to express extraordinary gratitude for the kind of love, care, and generosity that friends here and elsewhere have shown me in my time(s) of need this year. You are seen; you are appreciated; you are, in fact, blessings.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy