Turkeyless
Alas, I am turkeyless on this most turkeylicious of days. Indeed, it is my very first Thanksgiving without turkey (since I acquired teeth, presumably). It is also my first Thanksgiving without being with any family. The two are probably related in some fashion (i.e. family = turkey). I miss them both.
I could have had Thanksgiving with someone here on campus. And I certainly would have, were I a nice guy. Since I'm a selfish jerk, I didn't help to aleviate the loneliness of anyone else on this holiday. The reason is that I have a paper due on Monday. As is my wont, I put off doing any serious work on it until very late in the game. I was supposed to start writing yesterday, but I spent all day perusing this one book. Granted, it was the most important book, but it still put me behind schedule. Then, I stayed up past my bedtime and didn't get to work untl late today. (Lame, huh?) Luckily, I cranked out a nice quantity of work. How good it is remains an open question. However, I've got plenty of time to spiff it up once I get it all cranked out. Starting is always the hardest part.
Creating a paper is always such a weird experience for me. I say "creating" because writing is just a physical act. "Creating" more accurately captures the experience of formulating ideas and articulating them in an effective manner. The experience is akin to that of a painter of icons. In the eastern Orthodox Churches, the creation of an icon was a religious act. The painter would spend days or weeks in a monk's cell, fasting and praying. When his spiritual connection was finally made, he began to paint. Therefore, the value of an icon is not only as an objet d'art, but as the product of mystical union between man and God.
Now, I pity the God that would have to read any of my stuff. His love of mankind is itself a Promethean punishment. Why be cruel and have Him read my paper? The pathos of God aside, you get my drift. I do lock myself in my apartment and exist only around creating my paper. My sense of time vanishes, and I minimize all contact with the outside world. Semi-delirious, I assault my keyboard with a heavy "hunt'n' peck" typing. Then, days later, I give birth to a semi-presentable paper. That reminds me, I have a BIG paper next month that I simply cannot afford to fuck-up. Shit.
Any way, long story short, that's why I didn't get together with anyone and have turkey for Thanksgiving. Enjoy the holiday!
(Hey, is that goddamned Santa Claus peeping out at me from my Coke can? Oh, Lord. I can feel the holidays creeping up one me, drawn by the scent of credit cards... Slowly and deliberately... stalking me...)
