Blanksgiving.

I went to see Tarkovsky's Solaris last night with veek. More on that when I've seen the new one, I think. In the meanwhile, it's time for sleep so that I can go to Thanksgiving dinner at my parents house for an overly rich Thanksgiving breakfast.

Veek is only in town for a little bit longer, and I need to show her around the carriage house. This sounds like a job for mini-party. I'm not working tonight or tomorrow night, so I think I'll call around and see if anyone wants to stop by tomorrow and have a nice get-together with leftover turkey and sodas. Also, there's this extremely gooey brie that I bought in a moment of cheesy weakness when I went to the Whole Foods for milk and bread. It must be eaten. Yes it must.

So friends, stalkers, sexy goddesses, lend me your rears, so I can put them in newly upholstered seats and make you play zombie games, or Trivial Pursuit, or the very scary "Men Are from Mars; Women are from Venus" game that I recently acquired. I ought to have some thematically linked name to the holiday it succeeds (like "Bitchgiving" or "Misgiving" or something) but I can't think of one.

Calls later. Sleep now.