Okay, first of all, we went to Marta's, duh. Just 'Ama, the Dud and I. We've known Marta nearly all my life, it seems. Since I was nine. She's got four kids, with the eldest being my age (just one month older, I think) and the youngest being only thirteen. They used to live down the street when we all lived back in the projects. My mom n' Marta hit it off right away, and Marta's greatest yearning was that Laura, her eldest would hang around more with me, becuase I was "such a good influence" (according to her, right), but we never did. Not that there's anything wrong with Laura; we just don't really click. Well, we do talk now and again, whenever we see each other, and I do believe we understand each other more now that we're older and wiser. She's crazy-fun, always partying and drinking and the such, but she's got a good heart. Over the years, I've come to view all of them as family, and even though I don't talk to the girls or Ramonsito often (or even see them all that much, for that matter), I'm really fond of them all. All right, I'll admit it, all right? I love them. And I know that one some level they love me too. So they invited us over for Thanksgiving dinner and wouldn't take no for an answer.

I cried so hard when we got back home...

For several reasons. Okay, first of all, Marta's family was all there: her four kids, her husband, her neices and nephew. And they've all got problems, this I know, but they were there, together. My father and sister can't even be in the same room without bitching. Being there, in someone else's house without my father is probably another reason I let the waterworks loose. Despite the fact my parents split up when I was a wee one, my mother's never forbidden him from seeing us, or visa verse. Since we moved out of the projects and into this, our very own house, 'Apa's always spent Thanksgiving with us, and he usually gives the blessing. I felt so sickened with myself I actually threw up a little (and no, I didn't make myself throw up, I don't believe in that shit. Dud used to be bulemic, I don't need to crawl down that same road). And then of course, I cried 'cause I was mad. I called Pifas on his cell phone as soon as I got home, and surprise of surprises, his cell phone's off. He was throwing a tantrum, just like a little kid. I knew he'd probably tried to call me on my cell while we were at Marta's, but my battery died 'cause I can't find the damn charger. He probably thought I had it off, got ticked off, and turned his off in turn, to shut me out. On Thanksgiving! The more time passes, I swear the more and more he and the Dud are alike. I sear it.

So I cried for all these reasons. I just felt I had nothing to be thankful for this year, and that's never happened to me before. And now, typing this up, I feel so ridiculous about it, really. I mean, nothing to be thankful for? What the fuck was I thinking? I have many things to be thankful for, too many to even list, so I won't even try. But I decided today that I won't keep moaning and bitching about "oh, my father this" and "my sister that." What they decide to do is their life, they're the ones who are gonna have to live with it. I don't wanna get depressed ever again, and it took for me to actually see Marta's family, filled with problems and debt and still struggling, but together, to realize that life's too precious to let it go to waste on mourning. Marta was just so happy that we were there, all her children were gathered around her... nothing else mattered. No problems were big enough to ruin her special day. And everyday has to be that way for me from now on, because I don't know how long these days will last, how long I'll still have my dad. How long before some other bucketful of crap doesn't come along and find a landing spot on my head.