My body is weak and my stomach is a gaping sarlacc pit.

THANKSGIVING CELEBRATIONS. The turkey has been defrosted, trussed, flavoured and is in the oven roasting away. I’ve basted it multiple times and that’s one good looking bird. I’d stick my duck in it, if turducken was the dish of the day. As it stands we’re gonna have many dishes, all delivered by friends in potluck format. Good food, much wine, tunes, laughs and possibly a visit from the Loko fairy, if things are in need of a little extra magic.

Friendsgiving has become an annual tradition. Three years back I had a different flatmate (who wasn’t my girlfriend, but had the same name). Neither of us had family around, so we decided to put together a small Thanksgiving feast with other “orphans”. We’d create the semblance of family, without the awkwardness that comes when a hierarchical family structure gets dunked in alcohol. It was a success, great meals from all around. Fun times with parlour games. Leftovers for days. Why not make this an annual tradition?

So we did. Every year the roster seems to grow. Last year we ran out of cutlery and had to fold chopsticks into our arsenal. We didn’t have enough chairs, so employed the dirty plastic chairs that’d been loitering out in the shed. After covering them in blankets, Shed Chair #1 and Shed Chair #2 became venerated guests at our table. By this point the attendance list has very obviously grown beyond the size of our place, but who are we to turn people away? Since my girlfriend has moved in, we have more cutlery/plates than we did in past years. We may still not have enough. Just in case, I raided the work kitchens as the building had been abandoned for the company move. Also a stack of disposable stuff. We still haven’t got enough chairs, but I grabbed two from our camping kit. We have pillows, so things are about to get zabuton up in this bitch. We certainly don’t have sufficient wine glasses, so we’re gonna get creative with chalices. Hoegaarden glasses it is.

Jesus, we’re 15 minutes off start time and I’m not even wearing pants. I know this night’s all about giving thanks, but maybe I should start giving a fuck.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s