The almost-Thanksgiving “What I am Thankful for” list

When writing about Thanksgiving, I’m mindful that it’s traditional, especially for women, to dwell on one of these tried and true topics:

* How to Prepare the Perfect Sumptuous Thanksgiving Bounty with All The Trimmings

* How to Avoid Going Berserk and Attacking Your Annoying Relatives and In-Laws with a Carving Knife

* How Not to Eat a Bazillion Calories and Subsequently Watch Your Ass Double in Size

* Why, Two Decades After Second-Wave Feminism, Women Still Slave Away in the Kitchen While Men Get to Sit on Their Asses and Watch Football All Day

* Or, the most popular of subjects: Feeling All Thankful and Shit

I’m generally not the kind of person to make a maudlin list of things I’m thankful for, but it does seem to be the obligatory Thanksgiving cliche, so I’ll bite. It goes without saying, of course, that I’m thankful for my friends and family, good (mental and physical) health and that I live in a country where I am free to make such sappy and mushy posts like this one. So, here goes a list of 10 random things I am thankful for:

A job

Considering all the layoffs this year, especially in my field of journalism, I am so grateful that I am still gainfully employed in a job that, for the most part, I love and doesn’t keep my ass confined in cubicle hell.

The Internet

I am so, so glad Al Gore invented this, because how else could I waste time when I should be working than by playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook? The Internet also gives me the power to work from home, the opportunity to pursue my passions and hobbies, a soapbox by which I can unleash all my innermost rants and raves and allows me to cheaply indulge my book-buying compulsions. But most of all, it’s allowed me to meet so many awesome people — not to mention, my husband — and to discover and read dozens of smart, witty bloggers. Thanks, Al!

My furbabies

My kitties give me so much and all they ask for in return are food (preferably canned), shelter and the occasional rub behind the ears. I am so grateful for them, as well as the chance to open our home this year to two more unwanted kittens and one traumatized cat.

Morningstar Farms

Seriously, because I think we’d be reduced to eating peanut butter and jelly most days if not for its easy-to-fix line of faux meat products.

Dark chocolate, avocados, eggs, coffee, peanut butter, sunshine

And everything else “experts” warned us were harmful that have turned out to be good for us, after all.

My brother and sister-in-law’s poor planning

Their admitted carelessness means that I’ll be getting a new (and our family’s first) nephew in December! I am so very grateful for the chance to mold little Chase into a Bruce Cockburn-loving, tree-hugging, feminist, vegetarian, lefty Pittsburgh Steeler’s fan.

Having a great stylist on speed dial

My prematurely-bald husband simply doesn’t understand how a good or bad hair day can set the tone for the entire day. Yay for a stylist who knows how to cut short hair well!

Netflix and my DVR

I am grateful for Netflix for how else could I wile away the weekends catching up on the entire 11 seasons of Law & Order: SVU on demand? And to my DVR, for allowing me to mercifully fast forward through those god-awful Jenny Craig and Nutrisystem TV commercials.

Bruce Cockburn

And his 28 (29?) albums that have managed to both sooth and preserve my sanity all these years.

Adderall (and a good prescription health care plan)

Since going on Adderall for ADD a couple years ago, I now no longer have to embark on a daily hunt for my car keys (and other misplaced items) and have managed to actually finish a few projects through to completion. Hurrah for legal amphetamines!

It’s never too early to start the brainwashing

Baby showers are among the strangest social rituals ever to be thrust upon womenkind. Our family threw one for David and Amber the other weekend. In the weeks leading up to it, my mother kept calling me with yet another mind-numbingly infantilizing game she’d found with names like “guess that baby food,” “the poopy diaper game” or (save me already) “pin the binky on the baby.” I haven’t been to many baby showers, but my “I’m not a bra-burner!” mother schooled me in advance on the fine art of such nauseating estrogen fests. Apparently the men — assuming there are any — retire to the basement whereupon they will commence drinking beer, playing pool, talking smack and watching the Bengals on my brother’s 60-inch flat screen HDTV while the women gush over hegemonic genderizing gifts and play ridiculous shower games all in the guise of some universally shared matriarchal longing. Luckily, I claimed the role of photographer, thus sparing me from most of baby shower hell.

Baby Chase has received enough shoes to rival any well-dressed woman and David and Amber’s registry has now been officially exhausted. But nothing beats the bestest gift of all, compliments of yours truly and Cafepress.

Maybe we could qualify for nonprofit status

“So, how many cats do you have now?” asked the blonde veterinary technical as she prepared the bill for the kittens’ last round of vaccinations last night.

“Umm,” I hesitated, anticipating the wide-eyed look that was sure to follow. “Sebastian and Sydney make six and then I have a foster kitty. It’s like a feline Brady Bunch.” I omitted mention of the four neighborhood cats who’ve laid claim to our front porch.

The eyes widened, but only slightly. I would find out later that she has her own fair share of furbabies, and recently rescued the momma cat and kittens left by her neighbors when they moved to Florida. There is a shared understanding among suckers for a furry face in that we are all patients in the same mental ward.

“So, who are you with?” she asked.

“Who am I with?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I mean, which rescue organization are you with?” she replied.

“I’m not,” I said, with a laugh. “Oh, no, the craziness is all mine.”

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Meet Sebastian and Sydney, and foster kitty Nigel (who we’ll also probably end up keeping)

Cincinnati by night

I finally got the boy to go walking with me last night. It’s the only form of exercise I can kind of, maybe, if I’m lucky, get him to do. Night is falling earlier and earlier here in our corner of Southwestern Ohio, with dusk now hovering just after 7 p.m. With twilight already upon us, we forewent our usual nature park for a jaunt across the Purple People Bridge to Sawyer Point and back. When I bought the Canon DSLR, I knew that Brandon assumed it would go the way of the digital video camera I just had to have last year and have yet to take a single video with. But I think even he has been surprised by the use I’ve gotten out of the new camera in the few short weeks I’ve had it. I took it along on our walk last night and captured a few night shots of our city’s beautiful skyline.

Note to self: Next time bring a tripod.

Alms Park and Columbia-Tusculum

It couldn’t have been a more perfect day to cover a story at Alms Park yesterday — warm, golden rays rippled on the river beneath a sky of the clearest azure blue. Alms Park is one of Cincinnati’s forgotten gems of a park — it’s small and while quaint and charming in its own right, lacks the grandiosity of its neighbor, Ault Park. To get to Alms Park, you must first travel through an area of Columbia-Tusculum known as the Rainbow District for the brightly-colored Grand Ladies dotting the hillsides. I snapped a few extra shots while I was in the area.
Alms Park:

Columbia-Tusculum:

David & Amber Plus One

Brandon, David, Amber and I headed to Ault Park tonight to get some 7-month maternity shots. Only two more months to go!

An afternoon in New Richmond

I went out to New Richmond today for a story and saw the most gorgeous dollhouse and cottage garden. Oh, to have a white picket fence…

Because what fun is lemonade?

I got an email today from one of my contacts, a chief of police, who frequently sends me photos and press releases to be published in our edition. This email, also sent to all the township trustees and other media folk, was kind of odd however. It asked only: “What do you do when life hands you lemons”

Odd emails call for odd replies, so I wrote back: “Emasculate your cat, of course” and attached this picture.

Vacation highlights

I don’t know what’s worse for productivity: the day before vacation or the day after. Sigh, all I know is that it was entirely too short. We managed to squeeze a lot in on our six-day trip down South: tromps through the Shaker Village and two Civil War battlefield sites, a hike in the world’s longest cave system, tours of Lexington, Ky. and Music City, a riverboat ride down the Kentucky River, swimming, antique-shopping and despite being rounded up in the hotel lobby at 2 a.m. Thursday night for a tornado watch, lots of much-needed relaxing.

A few observations from our trip:

• Where there is roadside adult bookstore, there is a “Jesus Saves” billboard
• “Blazin’ Rectum” is probably not the best of varieties with which to market barbecue sauce
• The number of churches, Wal-Marts and fried chicken establishments increase proportionately the further south you travel.
• A dinner of French toast, fried okra and French fries really doesn’t sound so odd when you’re vegetarian, extremely hungry and Cracker Barrel is the only semi-veg-friendly restaurant around for 40 miles.
• When going on a guided two-hour, two-mile cave tour 350-feet below ground and with eight flights of stairs, position yourself in line as far away from children as possible.
• Small children should be required to wear diapers in hotel swimming pools for risk of a one-day pool closure due to an “accident.”
• Stray cats find me even when I’m on vacation.

Photo highlights of our trip follow after the jump. Continue reading »

Random observations

Just a few random observations from the past week…

- It always promises to be an interesting class when the prof admits she’s hung over.

- The city once known as Porkopolis is now encouraging residents to eat, well, less pork (and other meat).

- If you park on the sidewalk, Newport Police will ticket you.

- Bunnies love cherry-flavored pediatric medicine.

- RuPaul out of drag (and wearing glasses) looks a lot like Cincinnati Mayor Mark Malllory.