Once again, Thanksgiving proved to be the best holiday of the year. After eating grotesque amounts of food with my family, I drove up to Oakland to visit some long lost college friends, and got lit. My friend Andrew (the tattooed hawaiian) met me in the street with a fine single malt, which he was drinking from the bottle. He quickly related a story about another person in attendance (they will remain nameless to protect the not-so-innocent) who had managed drink himself into incontinence the previous night. Twice. On Andrew's born again christian roommate's bed. God I love these people.

There's something about going to a college with only four hundred students: when you see them again, no matter how many years later, it's like all the intervening time just evaporates. In a weird way, they are my drunken fraternity family, educated to the eyeballs, and alcoholic every one. Some of the personalities are more pronounced, others are more subdued, but everyone is more or less as I recall them. That is COMFORTING, and something for which I am deeply thankful.

Who knows when I'll see them all again. I don't want to overdo it, because honestly I can't live that way anymore. They probably can't either, but when we're all together there is only one direction: a little philosophical conversation, a little public urination, and whole lot of near death inebriation.

'Til next year I guess.