before the turkey

I realize that it seems like I only post when my sister emails, and for those of you who are noticing that direct correlation, you're absolutely correct. Part of this is because most of my writing impulses have been swallowed whole by technical documentation at work, and NaNoWriMo -- that's National Novel Writing Month, for those of you who are joining us a little late -- at night. For the first time in three years of participation, the 50,000 word goal that is only a day or two away. At 45,566 words last night with five days left in the month, I'm hardly likely to give up now.

The rest of the motivation behind this is that my sister is one of those rare, idiotic species of fish that appear only once in the horizon of a storyteller. We seem to have at least one in every generation, in this family; my mother served as the black, elephant-riding sheep in the last one, and in this one, my sister is performing her function with, I think, unnecessary enthusiasm. At any rate, when one has the opportunity to document the life and times of one of these barn owls in a meaningful fashion -- i.e. in her own words, which spares me the trouble of extra typing -- one simply can't pass it by.

And, to be honest, there just isn't all that much going on in mine. I mean, I just got an email promising to ship me a bigger, stronger penis if I 'RESPUND 2DAY!!!' but that hardly sets me apart from any other woman in the US, does it?

Things have been quiet for me lately, outside of wedding preparations, and these aren't of a sort that are particularly worth writing about. On the other hand, exciting things are happening to other people. The Guy recently received an email from his best friend, a UN specialist on HIV/AIDS. He'll either be best man or officiant at our wedding, although I don't think the Guy has told him that yet. He was emailing from Norway. "Pray for me," he said. "Last week I was in the UK embassy in Istanbul." A few days after he left, said embassy was no longer there, having been blown to smithereens.

Meanwhile, my mad hatter sister had her van broken into while they were asleep inside, and up here in Mountain View, I had a bagel and cream cheese for dinner.

Well, what can I say? We live in exciting times. Some of us just don't notice.

There's a reason I don't have too much to say on the subject of Thanksgiving, and that's because my mother suffers from a spastic overproduction of gratitude. It's like she has a little gland in her that overproduces miscellanea: advice, piety, charm, gratitude. Thanksgiving is redundant as a day to be thankful; Mom inflicts thankfulness on everybody around her in a constant, unceasing wave of white noise.

"I got a ticket."

"Congratulations! You erasing ther financial karma!"

"I think I sprained my hand."

"So good. You not breaking the arm!"

"I got diagnosed with diabetes yesterday."

"Oh, so nice, now we be diabetes together!"

At this point in my life, being grateful for a dead turkey seems a little redundant. ("Be gratitude, Yuhri, turkey giving up his life so you can get fat and many leftovers for sandwiches.")

It's true that Thanksgiving is one of those family holidays that claim to be about one thing but are really about something else; like Christmas, which is supposed to be about something-or-another, but is actually about consumer confidence and retail gains. Like a lot of family holidays though, Thanksgiving has lost more than a bit of its sparkle since Dad passed away, not only because he was an awe-inspiring eater, but also because he loved any holiday that involved food, and Thanksgiving was an excuse for him to bring out every single story he had ever told and rehash them in hilarious detail for his long-suffering family.

It's been nine years since he's passed away, and I've forgotten most of them. At the time, I thought if I had to hear them one more time, I would stab myself in the ear with a spoon. Now I can't even remember his voice.

Memory is an unfathomable thing.

I've mentioned already that instead of going up to Seattle for the holidays, a $600+ trip for the two of us, we're going to be spending our Thanksgiving down in California instead under the amiable patronage of Tara. In our own defense, we did actually invite Mom down to stay with us for Thanksgiving, under the premise that it would be cheaper to fly one down than to fly two up.

Mom, in that incomprehensible way of hers, dug in her heels and refused to come. "I have too much to do," she explained. "I'll be so busy, busy, busy---"

"Will you be teaching?"

"No, no teaching. Vacation!"

Just in case it was one of those irritating Japanese 'say NO the first six times' dealies, I asked her several more times over the course of the week. She continued to insist she was going to be busy.

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Oh, so busy," she said vaguely. "Things, kitchen, oh, so much work. . . ."

Last night, I asked Mom what she was going to be doing on Thanksgiving. "Going to a student's house for dinner?"

"Taxes!" she said, brightly.

So yeah. Guilt. There's one tradition we're keeping alive and healthy this year, at least.

The Purple Monkeys went a little mad while I was in the Cow. They had a company-wide meeting about it, one that I was unable to attend because I was actually working. Down in the Cow. I suspect the Purple Monkey Royalty planned it this way deliberately; rather conveniently, the three most outspoken employees -- and by "outspoken" we mean "ethical" -- were out of the office on assorted trips, leaves, and meetings.

The end result of this meeting is that I now have four Purple Monkey Bosses. Four. And in the meantime, we've added a few more executives, so we now have a -- get this -- two to one ratio of executives/management to actual workers.

And I'm thinking to myself, great. More purple monkey loving. Bananas for all.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Email from my sister below.

From: Sako
Subject: kids

i have noticed a remarkable number of albinos in central america. oculocutaneous albinism, or OCA, occurs when the body is unable to metabolize tyrosine to the pigment melanin...rumor has it.

i´ve started my spanish courses at la union, apparently a reputable language school in antigua. i have been told by many that spanish is not a difficult language to learn. hmm...either i´m totally overwhelmed or i´ve got the brain capacity of a very small, unintelligent, mouse. why in the world does any one language need 16 different ways to say ´to be´? whatever the reason, i am going to learn each and every one of them.

we´ve been lucky to be able to volunteer our free time at the local childrens center in a village nearby. ages 2 - 18, these children are from disadvantaged single parent, or totally parentless homes. the EBS offers them nutritious meals, literacy programs, a safe play area, showers...basically a safe haven. every snot faced, dirt smudged, filthy, poop-y smelling, little kid there is an absolute angel. i fell in love! again and again! after simultaniously playing a game of soccer and frisbee (which by the way the kids were awesome at), we hit the slides and played, ´catch me and throw me up really high in the sky before i get to the bottom´. oh boy, did they like that one. needless to say, my arms are not functioning today. i´ve commited for the remainder of the week. even after the first day it was hard to say goodbye. wrinkled noses, tears pooring, attachment issues...and that´s just me!

i´m coming home for the holidays via plane or beauville. i may return with a package containing a child or two.

someone broke into our van this morning. lots of glass. lots of cuts.

see you all soon!
love, sako

days on the road: 55-ish
accidents: 2.8
encounters with ´civil servants´: 7
bribes payed: 1 @ $180.00 USD, 1 @ $10.00 USD, and 1 safety belt citation @ 80L (about $5 USD -what a hassle that one was!)
missing limbs/ health report: 0/ 0
car has broken down: three times. something about a clogged air way. PCV was changed by a mechanic. it cost $12 USD.
greatest location so far: isla omotepe, nicaragua! wildlife, trees, warm rain, and definately the people!
most inexpensive countries: nicaragua and guatemala (about $10 a day if you´re splurging.)
favorite book read: the confederacy of dunces by john kennedy toole. although i´ve read it 7 or 8 times (on various trips), it never fails to make me go into side splitting fits of laughter. kitchen confidential was really good also. when it comes down to it, nothing beats ´the nature and property of soils´, my favorite book of all time.
please send: nothing. life is perfect down here!