Thanks and Theft

Henceforth, the obligatory (but heartfelt) post of thanks, with a format directly taken from Chiara. (Imitation=Flattery, and all that.) And so, I give you my thank-you notes.

To my husband and my children: You make it all possible, and worthwhile. I literally can't imagine my life without you.

To Cooking Light magazine: Oh, my. That brining recipe you gave me for my turkey? Pure brilliance. I thought I cooked a mean turkey before, but I was clearly deluded.

To Ambre, Debra and Susanna: To thank you for being there sounds trite, and somehow inadequate. Thank you for being you, and for being 'us.' (Nope, still too trite and inadequate. But at least I tried.)

To the psychopharmaceutical industry: Don't get me wrong; I still think you're way overused, and I do wonder about whether we as a society are simply trying to medicate ourselves--and especially our women--into submission. But on the other hand, you've saved me when I couldn't save myself, and for that I'm grateful.

To Tamar's rosemary bread: Oh, yummy, crusty, nutty, carby goodness. I'm in love.

To Tamar herself: And to think, a year ago, you were just a name on a blog. Thank you for being so much more. And for giving me the opportunity to say it in person yesterday. And for the hug. And for the bread.

To my brothers-in-law: I always wanted big brothers. Now I have three very unique ones, and I love you all, even if you're not reading this. (Please let you not be reading this.)

To my family: I love you and miss you.

To my publishers: Thanks for letting me write my book. (Yep, yet another shameless plug. I'd apologize for the transparency of it, but hey. I'm shameless. So no apology for you.)

To my colleagues at work, and especially to my boss: Thanks for making the unbearable bearable.

To the Internet: Thank you for bringing so many special people into my life. And thank you for not smiting me with some kind of karmic retribution for all those times, so long ago, that I laughed at my mom for her 'internet friends.' I'd be truly lost without mine.