People loved that Pearl Jam album, y’know.

Thanksgiving Day. Firstly, I want to give thanks to the coffee this morning that, while lacklustre (fewer choices on a public holiday), kickstarted my bowels and helped clear the detritus (delicious detritus) from last night’s gorging session. I feel better now, my stomach is stretched and ready to receive the bounty of our Friendsgiving celebration. We have the excess of our Moroccan spiced root vegetables dish (carrots, parsnip, sweet potato, raisins, dried apricots, tomatoes and spices) ready to be warmed and put out. As I write, my girlfriend’s prepping the potatoes for fry-dom. Another guest is making vegan gravy, there’s stuffing on the way, cheese curds coming, cranberry sauce arriving and a weighty bird in the slow cooker. In true Canadian style, we’re doing a Make Your Own Thanksgiving Poutine bar. Add to that delicious pies, sweet potato risotto, a banana/cherry/chocolate dessert, warm rum-spiked cider, green bean casserole and a metric fuckton of booze and you’ll understand why I’m so excited.

Friendsgiving was something I started doing 2 years ago. My flatmate at the time had family out West. The bulk of my family was back home. We realised others might be similarly displaced from relations and could commiserate/celebrate together. Friends as family was something close to my heart and I couldn’t wait to celebrate the people who were in my life instead of mourn the people who weren’t. So we gathered our friends, they brought plates and plenty of booze and we had our own family. Excessive toasting, parlour games, music and sing-along. It was a rowdy night that started a tradition I’ve got no intention of halting.

One aspect I haven’t mentioned is that a lot of people have trouble around holidays. So many people carry some kind of baggage around them. It could be anything from feeling lonely and unloved, to grim recollections associated with that particular day. There’s an aspect to any holiday that almost forces you into a jovial mentality, telling you how to feel. If you can’t bring yourself to feel like that it’s easy to become bogged down, to wonder what’s wrong with you that you can’t get on everyone else’s wavelength. You start to think that you’re the problem and that your mere presence will bring others down. I get it and I’ve felt it before. You don’t necessarily want to be alone, but your subconsciousness tells you that’s what’s best for everyone and you start to believe it. Times like that, it’s the hardest thing to pull yourself out of bed and into an environment of cheer.

Holy shit though is it worth it. I want the people in my life to be able to share in the joy they bring to mine. It’s crazy, because so often it happens to those hyper-aware people that I love the most, people who think on levels like nobody else and feel isolated (maybe because they’re thinking on levels like nobody else. That’s isolating). It’s what I love about them, what makes them so fucking special. I don’t want any of my friends to feel shitty, least of all on a day where everything is in abundance. I know they’re hugely valued people and hopefully having a ton of new people seeing how valuable they are can help them give their dickhead subconsciousness the middle finger. Especially because they think on levels like nobody else, they’ll be outstanding at the “What would you rather have sex with?” game.

Because I’m thankful for having to choose what I’d rather have sex with out of an avocado and a pitted avocado.


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