Cheers! Thanks a lot!

Because I won't have time tomorrow and because work is an irritating distraction from all the smells coming from my oven, writing some words of thanks to use up a unit seem appropriate. 

Thank you, family! When I need you, miles and miles of distance doesn't even phase you. You make it better. Everything, you make it better.

Thank you, friends! My DC family is like a blankie I can't be without and I'm so grateful for the years I spent with you. You guys showed me what real friendship looks like and that is a rare and valuable gift. My new Texas family has been a long time coming but in the last 6 months, you have picked me up, dusted me off (or rather, dunked me in the river), and pointed me in the right direction on a path more my own. I'm not alone anymore and I'm so glad I finally found you.

I love my new home. I'm so grateful I get to be in this beautiful space everyday and call it my own. Not only is it infinitely more functional and equipped than any place I've lived before, it is also a fortress that unhappiness cannot penetrate. I'm thankful for granite countertops, closets, and surround sound. I'm thankful for my sunny sewing room. I'm thankful so many people have shared fun with me at Chez Ahrens and I'm thankful for the help I got making this place feel like home. I'm even grateful for plumbers, electricians, and Zilker event street closures. I'm especially grateful for Zilker events!

I'm somehow finally thankful for the terrible situation that got me this new home. Though swimming to shore was challenging, I'm grateful I knew when to jump ship. One must, must have gratitude for any lesson learned.

Thank you, neighbors, for not hating me. May the universe shower you with luck and happiness. I'm loud but I promise to always have whiskey and pasta on hand to make up for it. Your tolerance is a precious gift.

And, as always, I'm thankful for my sweet dog who continues to remind me that love exists. I simply cannot put into words how much she means so hopefully this will suffice: She is the dollop of homemade whipped cream on my pumpkin pie. And that's saying something.

Filth and Other Collectables

As I took the trash out this morning, I gave my usual thought to the monumental ickiness of dumpsters. I know what I throw in there and I can only imagine what else makes a grave in its stinky darkness. I'm oddly fascinated with shows about rare medical conditions and I always recall the sensationalized episode on flesh eating bacteria when I touch any trash receptacle.

I like to think I don't hang out in places where the risk of picking up a flesh eating anything is possible, short of hipster zombie parties on the East Side. However, as I walked Olive and thought harder about it (pre-coffee), I realized I am in great danger.

I am actually most likely to be found in rank dive bars, smoke-filled honky tonks, and the most vile of them all, port-a-potties at music festivals, which I even went into barefoot once, bless my filthy heart. The funniest thing is that as I was writing this, I recalled a previous entry on the same topic. Clearly, my dilusions of noble ladyship, complete with girly handkerchiefs, good posture, and Junior League membership* are out with the rubbish. It is only a matter of time before I'm hospitalized. Whiskey should kill any life-threatening germs, right?

* I don't really want to be in Junior League. While I may be filthy, I am still classy.