Thanksgiving

After all the whining, moaning, and bitching in my last post, I figure I'd better focus this one on something more positive. You wouldn't know it, but I genuinely am trying to cultivate an outlook of gratitude. No really, honestly. So here's proof: a list of Five Things For Which I Am Thankful:

1. Wimsey the Normal Kitty. She pees and poos in her litter box, and that's a fine and wondrous thing. (I'm scarred by the Peeing Kitty.) And she doesn't suddenly up and bite the nice neighbor lady, as Rowan the Neurotic Dog did just this afternoon, hence raising the specter of a huge lawsuit leading to the loss of our house and all our worldly possessions. Not that the nice neighbor lady is going to sue, she assures us she is not, but a pattern of erratic biting is emerging and sooner or later he's going to bite the wrong person and we'll end up in a trailer park having to hunt squirrel for supper. But I'm not going to talk about that. I'm being grateful and positive. Like Scarlett, "I'll think about that tomorrah." Meanwhile, I will appreciate my self-sufficient, supremely self-assured, angst-free kitty.

2. The fact that the Peeing Kitty has successfully made the transition from cossetted, clawless, indoor pet to vulnerable outdoor pet. I figured that without claws she'd be dead in a matter of days, but instead she's flourished, a poster cat for living life on the wild side. She is even beginning to look the part. Her long silky hair, designed for daily grooming and arrangement on a pillow, is shaping itself into dreadlocks: Reggae Kitty. Rastafarifeline. Marley-Miaow. (OK, I'll stop now.) I am grateful that she has lived this long because now when, as is inevitable, she is run over by a car or mauled by a stray dog, I'll feel less guilty. Life on the edge suits her. Some of us were just made for a short wild ride.

3. The iPhone. It has made Hugh happy. It's downright scary how happy he is with that thing. But he's happy. And happy Hugh means much less conflict in the household. Thank you, Apple people.

4. My Gap Body tee-shirt bras. Now, I hate bras. I hate the feel of a bra. I hate the damn straps that always drift down my upper arms and I despise that tight elastic around my chest. But several years ago I discovered Victoria's Secret simple cotton triangle bras. So light and comfy, with straps that stayed in place. And then VS stopped making my bra! Just like that! Without even thinking about my needs, absolutely no consideration whatsoever. After months of searching and much money squandered on various torture-inflicting boob-holders, then, I rejoice in the Gap Body no-wire tee-shirt bra. Not as effortlessly comfortable as the VS triangle, but close. . . and unlike the VS bra, this one contains enough fabric to hide the sight of an erect nipple. A good thing, actually, as I often do get excited when I teach--intellectually rather than sexually, mind you, but the nipple looks the same. And undergraduates are easily distracted. Gap, I am grateful--as, I am sure, are my students, who are no doubt nauseated by the thought of an aroused 50-year-old history professor.

5. My Dyson vacuum cleaner. It's difficult to admit, as I would very much like to be the sort of woman whose mood never depends on household appliances. . . but I am not that woman, not yet, so until I get there, thank you, Mr. Dyson. This vacuum cleaner rocks.