It was a weird Thanksgiving. The first time in over 20 years that I haven't cooked a thing. I thought ten years, at least, but my mother reminded me that even when I lived at home, I did a good share of the cooking. Even when we eat at her house, I do most of the cooking. This year, perhaps out of protest, I didn't cook a scrap. Not even the pies. I bought those from Lenora, she made them from scratch, so I feel ok about it.
We went out last night, and closed out the bar, having loads of fun at karaoke night. It's weird, because I hate karaoke night, under most situations, but everything went right, and the crowd was good, DJ Pete was feeding off of our good vibes, and we were feeding off of his, and it just about took a fire hose to get the crowd out of there, at closing. Everyone was hugging, kissing, laughing, dancing, drinking, singing. Bruna yelled "ok, no more hugging and kissing, get out!" So, I ran over there and gave her a hug and a kiss (then we got the hell out...).
Most Thanksgivings? I would have been cooking since Sunday, and really doing all the work on Wednesday. I would have fallen into bed at 10, to tumble out of bed early to pop the turkey in the oven (or the smoker) and continue on through the day. Without this totally free holiday, I wouldn't have really realized how completely exhausting it is. I usually recover for the next three days, we eat leftovers, and I don't get out of my pajamas till Sunday, at least. We also spend a load of money on food.
Leading up to the holiday, I felt weird and nervous, like...I'd get up on Tuesday and think "ok, I should go shopping, I have lots of stuff to...nope, no I don't." I felt fidgety and guilty.
Maybe it's the reason why I took a sabbatical.
I'm too old to kiss family's ass, and I never got into the idea that "we have to like them, just because they're family." maybe it's because I'm adopted, or maybe because I've inherited the "Brandshagen Curse" where we really suck at being close and keeping in touch. But, my mother wanted a nice big family dinner at her house for a chance, so after fighting with her for a month and a half, I gave up my cooking control, and agreed. Then she dropped the bomb.
We'd be spending it with my mom and Earl, and one of Earl's kids. Hate them. The stepsibling always treated me like shit, he's 10 years older than I am, and ever since I was a kid, he's always been a real jerk. Once, he locked me in his basement, when I was 14, and left me there, for 4 hours. It was December. No, it wasn't a nice basement, or heated. It was one of those really low ceilinged dirt floor basements. It's a long story. I hate him and his family. His asshole children, his fat son who follows in his obnoxious footsteps, his daughter who manages to be one of those mean-popular girls, yet she looks like Groucho Marx. His fake wife. Their many many issues. Cannot. Stand. Them. They were estranged from the family for years, many lovely years, because he got in trouble with drugs, and organized crime, and borrowed loads of money off my mother. They're back now, and they really weird up the holidays, bigtime. If dinner is at three, they show up at 11 am, rush the scene, force dinner to the table by 2, and take off by 3, claiming illness, or some shit. Every time. Then, because dinner is done, rushed, and everyone's feeling awkward, the "holiday" be it Christmas or Thanksgiving, or whatever, is over. I refused to get into it this year, offered to provide dessert, and washed my hands of the day. We began drinking and having fun over last weekend, and went to Thanksgiving with a resigned fate.
They canceled this morning. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't overjoyed. I actually ran around my house in a victory lap. The sun shone brighter, my headache disappeared, we got up early, bounced out of the house to breakfast, then showed up at mom's house a little early to help with prep. I did wind up cooking a few things, and it was so awesomely pleasant. She made all my favorites, and did them well. We took a long time at the table, eating, enjoying the company, chatting, laughing. Then we took a long time cleaning up, chatting, laughing, then we watched lots of bad TV in a half turkey coma. It was good times. Really comfortable, lots of love and good food, and great relaxing vibes.
I love when my dread is all for no reason. I've been bitching for the past few weeks to anyone who would listen, and all for nothing. Good. I'm glad when I'm wrong, sometimes.
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