Thanks.

Always during Thanksgiving, it seems appropriate to consider what you are thankful for.

This year, I am thankful for: (a) age—both my boss and Ammiel once simultaneously told me (to my face) I was old but more so because with age seems to come, well, wisdom; (b) persons—specifically a special desert (or is it dessert?) person, close friends, virtual ones (even pseudo-virtual, ahem, Tiffany), coworkers (Nades, you belong in the close friends category; check), family; and (c) my mother whom already belongs in the last category so must-go-without-saying but deserves a mention all to her own.

These last few days (or weeks, really), I have been pondering ideas of hope, desire, fulfillment, love, purpose and the likes. After some good home cooked grub (courtesy of chef Anna) and Kung Fu Panda (courtesy of entertainer Anna), my mother offers advice to a question I posed after my drive to their home on Wednesday. I did find it odd she did not offer any immediate thoughts to my mulls. But I am glad she held off until the physical and mental fills of today.

Mother reasons with me that life is, at best, limited to about eighty or so years. She empowers me to go after dreams with responsibility—to self—and faithfulness—to God. Because a life of I-tried is better than a life of what-ifs. And putting yourself out there builds self and faith. And failure is not a done deal. You can always fail again.

That last sentence was meant to be funny.

Anyway, I like where I am right now. In therapy sessions, this would be called a break.

I needed a break.

In both a therapeutic and absence-of-work sense.

Thank goodness...

Cousin’s

Before Ellen went across the giant pond (for hitch purposes), we had a chance to play in the city. I meant to blog about this experience a while back, but perhaps now is better than never...

Nunz won tickets to a Christian Finnegan show; it was genius times, for sure. He spoke well aware of his audience, grand. But beforehand, we went to a Mediterranean eatery called Cousin’s on Broadway:

Please excuse the shoddy stitch job. You get the idea.

Hurrah to meeting Jae for the first time.

I thought the hanging tapestries were, well (to use an Ellen word), bangin’ as was the seamless pattern on the tables you eat on (and sit around, this is key).


The winner and the mooch. To more fun times, I salute.

I want to try Etheopian food, yes.

Everything sounds better in...

I haven’t blogged in ages, I know.

I need more than encouragement or incentive. Purpose perhaps and more.

This reminded me of Tommy.