Thanksgiving

Christ, I am so weepy this week. I think the Americans got to me with the Thanksgiving stuff. It is, as Grace said, "equivalent to the superbowl multiplied by christmas." Everyone is home with their family, or here with their family. I went out to buy lightbulbs on Thursday and everything was closed. Y&R wasn't on. Everything stopped.

Of course, New York is very unfamily most of the time. Everyone is single and crazy and gay and trying to get an acting job and living four to an apartment. I think they've made a sitcom about this. Anyway, when my mom was here, she continued on being her mom self, but here. So every time I turned around she had washed the dishes and wiped the countertop, or put some fresh flowers in a vase, and instead of my apartment being the abused crash pad that it is, it was suddenly a home. Even when we went down to the garbage room, she made a point of turning the light off after us. Little stuff like that. It lingers, it's nice.