okay, so my friend P (and by-proxy his gf)invited me to dinner. Six people as of this morning are promising to come. P is being very sweet to me about whether I do or don't go. I'm thinking what I was thinking last night. I need to go down some meds (Captain Xanax in his whitey tighties)and get Agoraphobitch to shut up and my ass to go and enjoy not being alone for what - as far as I can remember will be my first (potentially) real Thanksgiving dinner in all of ample years upon this vicariously spinning blue-green marble. Having said that, my brain is doing what it does best...freaking out in all the worst ways, over real or imagined problems that are 99.9% surely improbable or non-existant anywehere in our galaxy. Like as I was typing that, my brain just thought...what if bilbo baggins shows up...ugh. It's the what ifs that drive me up the wall - AND keep me sick.

I may or may not go, I usually chicken out. I may again. I don't know.

Josh said go, stay as long s you can handle it, and take a cab back when it gets to be too much - but this guys house (its not at P's house) is way way way out in the middle of nowhere, and i couldn't get a ride back. I'd have to get W or F to rescue me if P dropped me, which he wouldn't do, but if he did...

Oh and I just found a bunch of really dead ancestors yesterday...two whole new lines of them, to be exact. And now my head is in England. With dead people.

~e