2005-11-27 || 2:30 p.m.

|| thanks and giving ||

i dreamed of a mean history teacher, my mother as a single sexual alcoholic, and having poor vision without the glasses to correct it. i couldn't see clearly the lesson on the chalkboard nor my mother stooping over in her underwear to pick up pantyhose taken off the night before; it was very fuzzy (as it is in real life without contact lenses) but discernible.

my parents were here for five days. we went to two different shopping malls; michael threatened to walk out each time. my mum spent $300 on thanksgiving food that was prepared in our tiny ill-equipped kitchen and served on a stolen catering table in the living room. my dad did not take seconds of the cake i made him for his birthday. my mother loaded up her dinner plate, took two bites, and sat back defeated declaring she was full. my dad took two walks to get away from our apartment. my mum went through a very large bottle of wine on her own (save the glass i drank while standing in the tiny kitchen making frosting and salad. waiting to see if there would be a revelation re: my mother at the bottom of the glass). my dad popped the hood of my car and peered into its insides on a busy portland main thoroughfare after breakfast. we went to the ladd's inn at approximately 4 o'clock friday afternoon so my mum could play video poker, legal in oregon, as a sad consolation prize for not making it out to the indian casino (dad was concerned about driving in rain).

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