Or don't. You can't really see them here anyway, thanks to the smog pollution and light pollution and everything pollution. Is that a metaphor? That you can't see the stars here? They even shine brighter in New York, that starless abyss of too-many-lights-nights. But nothing can compare to the lights displays down Huaihai Lu in Shanghai-- tacky neon ornaments hanging from neon-lit trees. The western world only brings out this garishness at Christmas. In Shanghai, we have it all year round.
Not that I'm complaining. I think I'm just tired. I think I'm just wistful because most people I know will be sleeping in beds they've grown up in tonight. Or at least spent significant amounts of time in. With the coming of Thanksgiving, everyone is flooding home. If you're one of those lucky many, enjoy it. I'm sending you love.
This is the first Thanksgiving I've not spent at home. And it's possibly one of the most exciting of my life. And it's sad and happy and crazy and I don't know what else. But I do know that I am thankful, thankful, thankful. For the stars at night, not that I can see them, but because they're there, I am thankful. For my family who will all sleep in the same house tonight, I am thankful. For my extended family who will gather on Thursday, I am thankful.
My life has not been one smooth sail, but neither has it been rough, and for that I am thankful.
For the delicious beef egg vegetable noodles now resting in my stomach after a late dinner, I am thankful.
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