Thankful: A List

I know we still have to get through the spooky pumpkin season before our minds turn to what makes us thankful while eating roasted meat with dressing.

But I'm feeling thankful today.

A random assortment of what I am thankful for:

1) Urban Art Commission

I recently received an email about an event they are hosting at The Cove. They asked:

Do you have a great collection of garden statues? A new body of paintings you've never shown anyone? A secret obsession? A strange hobby? We want you to share your passion with us and the creative community at large.

How do they want to share this passion? By doing a slideshow presentation. At a bar. I wonder if my obsession with checking my email or Holiday Ham sandwiches would qualify.

I'm just so excited Memphis has a place like the UAC. John Weeden and Elizabeth Alley are smart, well traveled, and exactly the kind of people you would expect to hightail it out of Memphis for more sophisticated pastures. Thank you for being here, and thank you for offering up wonderfully weird shit for us to do.

2) Facebook. I have recently been reunited with one of my best friends from elementary school, a girl who gamely dressed up as herself and her British cousin on the balcony of our house to fool Corky, our neighborhood nemesis. Sporting to my ears what sounded like an authentic accent, she told Corky of her travels through Europe while flouncing about in a big hat and scarf (tres chic). Eventually she was found out when her "cousin" disappeared and Jennifer returned wearing a suspiciously similar shade of lipstick. Jennifer is now a married mother of two and will soon be fleeing the icy climes of Michigan to return to Atlanta.

I was also found by one of my very first best friends Joanna who still lives in Memphis and is mother to a beautiful adopted daughter. But when I was six and she was seven, she was my idol, my Sherlock, and my access to R rated movies on cable. (I first saw The Shining in her living room, had nightmares for a month and was grounded for about as long.) I busted my chin open on her driveway while washing her parents' car and played "mermaids" in her pool. We lived in perpetual fear of her testosterone laden brother Michael and her proto Alanis/Goth sister Amanda who threatened me with my life because I had named my Adoption Doll Brittany, her chosen name for her own. Michael is now a social worker, a fact I'm having difficulty reconciling with the ball of fury and denim cutoffs I knew as a child. Amanda is an art teacher.

I love Facebook.

3) Steven Spielberg. On Sunday, Harlow, Caleb and I stood frozen in our living room, watching Drew Barrymore and Henry Thomas talk to ET. It is physically impossible for me to be in the same room as ET for more than 60 seconds without tearing up. That movie, as for so many kids of my generation, introduced me to the wonder of the movies. It is was brought me to Hollywood to chase a dream. It proved to me that that magic doesn't have to fade away with your childhood. For Caleb who grew up in the middle of a national forest, it revealed to him a world where kids found mystery in the suburbs. For my daughter, it was a funny looking creature whose wavy arms and high pitched squeal rooted her to the ground in front of the TV. Caleb and I looked at each other and watched her watching ET and got to feel some of that magic all over again.

And then I starting tearing up and had to leave the room.

4) My husband. It just has to be said. He is a catch for so many obvious reasons and for ones that selfishly are mine alone. He is a better housewife than I will ever be. It is not an exaggeration to say that I say thank you everyday to the fates that brought us together. It truly takes my breath away that this man is my husband and the father of my child and that as of tomorrow, we will be married for 3 years. No matter how stressful things can seem at times, I wake up every morning knowing I won the lottery. I love you. I adore you. And I still think I could kick your ass in a spelling bee.