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DC thanksgiving can be cold when you’re unwittingly on your porch in your pajamas. I decided that, as a foreigner, there was no need for me to celebrate thanksgiving. This scrooge spirit lasted until 2pm on Friday (around the time that I finally woke up) when it subsequently evolved into a martyr-ish feeling. So I rummaged in the cupboards, peeled all the not so rotten root vegetables, diced some onions, semi stole (texted after the fact) some chicken from my flatmates and cooked myself a fairly impressive thanksgiving meal. Just before sitting down to eat I decided to light a fire to make the mood more festive (cable tv doesn’t give the same glow). Apparently a wise fire maker is aware that there is a vent in the chimney that needs to be opened. Speaking of weak mental processes, read a ny times article about hypnosis being able to suppress certain functions in the brain so that there is no longer conflict with sensory inputs (eg when someone asks you to name the colour when shown the word red coloured in green) brought this up as a sign of my sophistication as a small talker at a dinner yesterday and was subsequently informed that you can ‘hypnotise’ a chicken by putting its head under its wing. Which cued the desire to start a stage show where a chicken is hypnotized on stage and then told that on the count of three it will come round and behave like a chicken. Flawless.
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