We had an exquisite meal for dinner. Funny to call it that, since we had dinner at 4pm. It was Thanksgiving in decorum: white meat turkey, HIGH fat mashed potatoes (2 sticks of butter, Pinknoise beams), a weird jello mold with celery and rubarb, rolls, some '97 Merlot. The wine was slightly acrid, bold, yet graceful. It was a 17 year old girl, impetuous but with some inborn manner about her. They laughed and shook their heads. They thought I meant her cunt. So much for personification in wine-tasting acumen, eh??

There's a feeling of home here, fairly comfortable. They remind me of my family back home: protective, obliging, funny. It's almost like I can walk outside and expect to see my mom, gram, even my tabby, Sandy. It's been awhile since I've had that old-fashioned family atmosphere around me.

I was remembering back along the trip to New Jersey three days ago. We were heading out of another McDonald's. Pinknoise just wanted a cheeseburger. I went for medium fries and a nine piece of chicken. It was freezing outside even under my trenchcoat. We leaned against the front of his car as I hurriedly ate handfuls of fries, chewing circularly. The sunset exploded across the whole sky: purple-orange plumes of fire boiling against russet reds and yellows. Celestial geysers, boiling to meet my eyes as he smiled over at me. We laughed as he told me how the women behind us starred, looking at me as though I were mad.

As we drove along another tollbooth and moved along a strip ascending into the hills, I looked to the side. The light was condensed into a thick river of bloody sandstone. All across the sky it streamed, falling off toward edges of plum-colored darkness.

Regular sleep has done wonders for me. I feel blood in my face and hands again. Even my feet are lukewarm. It's as if I am in a dream.

I wait for a friend to come on to talk to. She wanted to come over and pick me up this morning. She seemed sad, wanted someone to look inside her for a brilliance I'm surprised people take so much for granted; lovely people getting the shaft. It's hard telling someone when those moments happen. The line of being loving and just another set of fangs wrapped around your head is slim. Maybe I've been the jackal of circumstance too many times before, but people learn, no? Hm, I miss holding someone, being held, being a little closer to bridging the divide that make us individuals.

Michael Corlleioni is just now marrying Apollonia in the hills of Sicily. The brown fields of wheat, old world buildings, squat Italian men laughing while swilling bad whiskey. It's too bad I missed Europe this winter. Ah well, some other time.

You and yours enjoy the night.

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