So I don't mind that divorce has eliminated that social connection. I have invitations from friends, and I'm cooking anyway so we have leftovers which in my view is the best thing about Thanksgiving. Velvet will surely want a pecan pie or two. But like Greta Garbo in Grand Hotel, I want to be alone.
Lest anyone think I am not appropriately "in the spirit," please be advised that the terrace is festooned with colored lights. New ones multi-colored strands wrapped around the white twinkle lights that have been there since the summer. I am as jolly as anyone. I simply want to be quiet.
I suppose this solitude is an exercise in getting ready for the Empty Nest. I'd be more concerned about it except down in Houston, my sister in law decided Thanksgiving Dinner is a pain in the ass and is having a cocktail party instead. Not a bad idea. My mother is thinking about painting the living room ceiling. My brother and my dad have to work. Bubba (that's baby brother in the language of the Nascar) always has to shoot some football game on Thanksgiving so for years my folks have met him at a Black Eyed Pea near where ever he has to be.
I've been thinking about going to a movie by myself since I've never done that before. My mother wouldn't permit it because when she was a kid, she went to the movies alone and some perv sat down beside her and exposed himself.
With all the encouragement from the other night, I should write the book. I got side tracked from NaNoWriMo for several familiar reasons - the most important being that I have to deal with traumatic childhood shit and I don't feel like doing that when Velvet is around since sometimes I sob until snot runs down my face during the process. He was supposed to go over to Buzz Kill's tonight but now he's decided to finish his college applications (!) instead which means we'll be watching the season finale of True Blood.
I know what this sudden interest in finishing the applications is about. He's interested in going out with a female. He's been interested in this young woman for a while, but he doesn't see her often because she goes to a girls' school on the East Side. He knows her through friends that have mostly all gone away to college. As it happens, however, he ran into her last night and he not only remembered her name - he got her number. She even called him this morning while we were at Trader Joe's. I know damn well he wants his long weekend free and clear to pursue this young woman who he wisely said reminds him of me. Unfortunately that was after I said, "Oh I remember her - the cute one whose name you always forget? Likes to party, kind of ditzy?"
"Yeah, Mom. She reminds me of you except she's more stable."