Thanksgiving or Maybe The Hokey Pokey Really Is What It's All About

It's funny how such a small something can set off a chain reaction of introspection and (maybe a little) self-delusion (i.e. "It's not me! It's him!").

I'm tired, I've had too much wine and I'm feeling a bit of disappointment from an earlier brush-off, but the question begs asking:

In a year where I have so much to be thankful for, why do I focus on what I don't (and more to the point, can't) have?

As an aside, last night while eating at Ichiban (in a black sweater, jeans and running shoes) a group of young women came in various states of undress. One girl was wearing a halter top with a small strip of feathers down the back. When she walked by I caught a glimpse of one of her breasts. I remember when going out was an event. The preparation, the fun, the heels! Every night out was like New Year's eve.

I can't go back. I don't want to, but I'm not sure I want to move fast forward either. I wonder why I continue to make the same mistakes, revert to the same ways when I've learned so much and I've changed (really) in so many ways. Not the core of who I am, but in who I can be. Who I want to be. What I want.