Eyes Fixed On The Sun

There's this unspoken rule all over the internets in which people start sharing what they're thankful for on Thanksgiving Day (as if anyone really gives a shit - don't hate me because I'm frank).

The blog posts. The Facebook statuses <--- Is this a word? The tweets. The emails. What is it about the holidays that makes us all a little bit cornier and prone to niceties?

Necessary sidenote: As you probably know, I'm Cuban. With that said, Thanksgiving in my parents' place is celebrated with pork instead of turkey. With rice & beans instead of mashed potatoes. With yuca instead of stuffing. With coconut flan instead of pumpkin pie. With Heineken and pina coladas instead of cider and champagne. This is all delicious and worthy of swallowing but here's the problem: I really fucking love pumpkin pie. And turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce and sweet potato casserole.

What else is a girl to do but build a loophole? Every year I drive to Boston Market and eat a plate of all the American goodies I love-oh-so-much before dining at my parents' place. I guess without even knowing it I've built my own little tradition for one.

Today I went to the grocery store to buy some pumpkin pie in the hopes my mom wouldn't be too offended once I brought it over, when I realized the entire city of Miami was there. Apparently this was the only store open within a ten mile radius and I wasn't the only person craving baked goods. Once I finally found a spot, it was incredibly tight because some dickwad had decided to park over the lines and not give a shit that some people really want to eat pie!

So it's the holidays... Let it go, Annah, I said to myself. But I couldn't. I squeezed my big fat Camry into the spot and out of the car. Then I pulled out a scrap piece of paper and a Sharpie out of my purse and left this note on the windshield of their BMW:

Because what are the holidays for if not honesty?

Now here's a list of the things I'm thankful for:

Bruno, Mikey, Beba, and my latest rescue whom I've named Kingston (anyone want to adopt a Chow/German Shepherd mix?).

my mom. her bitchy attitude. my dad. his easygoing ways. the starbucks around the corner. its cute and possibly underage barista. pumpkin lattes. pumpkin beer. pumpkin pie. anything fucking pumpkin. miguel. his killer karaoke skills. penelope. her incredible ability to drink all my booze in one sitting. my roommate. her predisposition to always believe in love. big brown eyes. a job that pays the bills. a blog that feeds dreams. good hair days. this song. tomorrow. the day after. kindness and forgiveness. yesterday's fuckups and today's wisdom. departures and arrivals. lights at the end of each tunnel. friends that last a lifetime.

you. me. and dupree (duh).