READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

november 27, 1997:
thanksgiving, again.

Why do some people have to rain on every parade?

I don't believe in Thanksgiving. It is a racist holiday.

But I can still be thank-full.

I'm thankful for my unbelievably wonderful family - my parents, whose support, generosity and understanding seem to know no bounds, my sister and brother, who would do anything for me, and me for them, my grandmother, who is the strongest and smartest person I know, for my closest friends, who have stood by me and cheered for me, and held my hand when I was sad for no reason (and for reason as well), for my rabbit and cat (and those who helped with my cat earlier this year), for second chances, for optimism, for idealism, for luck for improving, for dreams for coming true, for california being my home, for being able to see the bright side, and for believing in another day, because it always comes, and for being unapologetically corny sometimes.

And for laughter, the rain, the beach, the sun, hot baths, and that pink rubber ball on my floor.

And I'm thankful to be me.

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Copyright 1996, 1997 Rebecca L. Eisenberg All rights Reserved.