Category: Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving!

My apt is fairly clean, I’ve got a tofurkey in the fridge to cook later, along with way, way too many extras for two people to eat, including but not exclusively; two pies (because we can’t agree); ice cream, a couple of fancy cheeses; some frozen spinach thingies; sardines; a giant loaf of organic French bread; fancy olives; copious amounts of fruit; two bottles of wine (red and white to suit whatever mood comes up) and a bottle of champagne in case we decide to get fancy and eschew the wine altogether; and dumplings and brussel sprouts to go with the tofurkey with stuffing. We also have a ton of sushi that’s going to go to waste because the lady at Gracefully loves Drew and loads him up with free stuff when he stops in after work at 5:30 am.

Much to Drew’s chagrin, TCM is showing musicals all day long. Being half a fag, I’m pretty happy about it, but I won’t make him watch (for too long) once he’s awake. West Side Story was on last night and I was so excited and so happy that it was on and I have a few days off that I did a few of the numbers for the crew. The pets are good sports and will sit on the couch and stare at me “appreciatively” while I sing off-key in a bad puerto rican accent about liking to live in America.

Drew is in the bedroom with a pink satin sleep mask on because I had the shade partially open to read in bed. I tried to get him in a lacey one that says “Dreaming of Paris”, but he refused. I plan on photographing him when I get done with this blog. He is equally as amped about this day off as I am, we are both fully on board with any day that celebrates sitting around lazily and eating heartily.

I’m sure I’ve written about this before, but I have spent many Thanksgivings feeling lonely and far away from family, often while bartending high or drunk in dank bars sparsely populated by other lonely drunks. When I see those nights in my head they look cold and dark indeed. Family-oriented holidays spent alone or lonely suck major ass, and it makes complete sense that the suicide rate is higher around this time of year.

I can think of three friends right off the top of my head that have suffered through painful breakups this year. I can think of other ones who don’t get along with their families, who are very far away from them, or who just don’t have anyone. I also have friends who are worried sick about money and other ones who are suffering physically. You are all in my thoughts today.

So I don’t want to selfishly crow about my full fridge and tolerant boyfriend without saying that my happiness today means that anything is possible for others like me. Everything changes, and if it isn’t your day, there are other days. And to my friends who aren’t feeling very good today, you can give me a call. If I’m not in the middle of a song and dance number I’ll pick up right away. And tomorrow night, if you like, we’ll go out and sit in one of those dank bars and talk about it.

Thanks Giving

The holidays are upon us, which I know can mean great depression or at least a general darkness to some. And Thanksgiving is certainly the most retarded of holidays—when we slaughter large birds and remember that many years ago European white men came and stole this country and destroyed the spirit of its rightful owners—owners who I am distantly related to on my mother’s French Canadian side. These original tenants were so ravaged by what happened to them a couple of centuries ago that during my childhood in the North of Michigan the word “Indian” was completely synonymous with “alcoholic”. 
It wasn’t until I neared closer to adulthood that I realized these dirty, long-haired creeps with beer cans in their hands veering and passing out in the sand of our local beach were actually the living result of damage done to their ancestors many years ago. And now most of them make a pretty decent living running casinos on protected Native American land. Nearby Pshawbe Town, once dubbed Shabby Town by the locals, is now pumping cash through gambling—drawing all sorts of Michigan white man to the tables. So there you go, it was taken and now it’s being handed back over the craps table. Not exactly the happy ending one might hope for, but it’s better than cans of shitty beer on the beach.
Anyway, today I am cooking a tofurkey and many other sundries for my mostly-vegan boyfriend. Which is not to imply that I never eat turkey, but I do like the idea of being one less person participating in the “turkey holocaust”, as my good friend Morgan phrased it last night. I am incredibly grateful for the day off from work and took the opportunity to get drunk last night with people like Morgan and my long-term band mate Donna, who has been a part of my life so long that she is really my sister at this point. This morning I have a low-grade hangover and I took the opportunity to lie on the couch in my slip, eating chips and guacamole and surrounded by sleeping animals while watching The Chronicles of Narnia. The series of books it was drawn from were very special to me as a kid, I read them repeatedly and spent a lot of time dreaming of living in that fantasy world, so I have to admit that I pretty much cried through the whole movie even though much of it probably didn’t warrant the emotion poured into its viewing. I am still emotional, which is most likely the reason I feel inspired to put down a holiday blog.
I have had some really shit holiday seasons in the past. I’ve had countless Thanksgivings stuck pouring drinks in crappy dive bars, chain-smoking in frustration while waiting on needy alcoholics and wondering how I managed to land in such a bleak position. I had one holiday season where I was so broke and depressed that I started sobbing in the middle of Bendels. The beauty and abundance around me seemed so incredibly far out of my reach at that moment that I felt nothing but despair upon viewing it. I’ve had coked up Christmas Eves where thin sunlight rose and shone through dingy blinds upon my tweaked out self-loathing and the equally depressed losers surrounding me. If you have never experienced that particular party, let me tell you there is absolutely nothing more depressing in the world than coming down on Christmas.
But that is all far past me at this point in my life and it only serves to make me so incredibly grateful for the life I live today. I have recently come to the conclusion that no matter how I try to prove my own sanity to myself and to the people around me, I will always remain a bit crazy. And I’m finally feeling okay with that, at least at this moment. I have so much gratitude for my life right now—my family, my friends, my job, my apartment, my pets, my stuff, my day off, my health, guacamole, the fact that I don’t have to put on actual clothes today, movies about my favorite books, pretty much everything around me and in me. And I do mean everything, even the things that make it obvious that I’m not completely sane—because those things keep me on my toes, make me unique and remind me that I am very much alive and present in the world right now.
So I’m putting this down because I know there are many people out there who are probably dreading this onset of the holiday season, and may not be as lucky as I am at this particular moment. You may be working and hating it, or feeling desperately alone, or feeling broke, or just feeling despair while people around you seem infinitely happier and completely alien. To you I am sending great love and empathy and the message that it can, and most likely will change. And to the Universe I give thanks.
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