Before I venture off to Thanksgiving dinner, I want to note just how great yesterday was. My best day in years.
First of all, Amy was on vacation. Words cannot express how sick I am of talking to that woman every morning. Staying in the work realm, we officially landed a big contract for 2015, thereby ending our year of "I wonder if we'll have jobs next week."
Socially, the day started with Steph and Andy at the dog park, followed a few hours later by her capitulation on the vegetarian Thanksgiving issue. Then I went to the downscale cigar bar, where almost everyone I know in Pittsburgh had spontaneously gathered to load up on booze and nicotine before they had to deal with their families. The entire day was a whirlwind of people buying me bourbon and cigars, and finally the owner brought out a huge tub of free buffalo wings. While stuffing my face, I was introduced to "Les the Jew" and "Mick the Mick," and some inebriate asked Les, straight-faced, "Do you guys celebrate Thanksgiving?" Everyone laughed, including Les. We regaled one another with stories for hours, until finally the owner said he had to go home to his family. Sadly, I schlepped off the the bar across the street, where the black guy seated next to me ordered a Jack and cranberry, then, noting my retching noises, insisted that I accept a free one. It was as disgusting as you're imagining, but free is free. And then I so hit it off with the lovely Italian girl seated on my other side, she insisted on running home to get me the best goddamned cannolis ever made.
So what am I stankful for this year? Not being in Seattle.