Thanks For That (Bitchy Vegetarian Girlfriend)

Thanks for that .

I was going to dive into the thanksgiving edition of Rachael Ray, but I can’t find it.  I checked everywhere in and around my desk and nope, it ain’t anywhere. I did find 2 issues of Modified Monthly, though (that’s the magazine I practice my madd copyediting skillz on),  an old Popular Photography, and the latest issue of Imbibe. 

<soapbox> Imbibe is a great magazine and if you like cocktails like I like cocktails, I highly recommend subscribing. In fact, I highly recommend subscribing to pretty much any magazine you enjoy, even Modified Monthly. It’s cheaper, for one, usually half-off the cover price. And it’s convenient; they just come to you like magic!  Like clockwork.  Like clockwork magic!  Subscribing also gives the business side of the ‘zine some numbers to work with when deciding things like size, paper quality, how many ads they need to run, and how many writers and photographers to hire.  Because I like reading magazines that are printed well and have a high content to ad ratio, with pretty pictures and writing that is relevant, entertaining, and informative, I subscribe.</soapbox>

Anyway.  No Rachael Ray. Which is probably for the best, because I’m really not a fan of turkey day, anyway.

The first time I made a thanksgiving feast was, well…  I was 18, had just moved into my first apartment, and didn’t really have niceties like cookware or a wall calendar. So Thursday rolled around and I didn’t think anything of it until about 2 pm when I realized “oh shit! I hadn’t gone grocery shopping!  Also, I’m broke!” My roommate and I scrambled through the 7-11 and grabbed everything we could afford that we thought would make an acceptable Thanksgivingy meal.  With our combined ten dollars, we got Minute Rice, carrots, some raisins, and Nutter Butters. And from that we made something that fed our friends. Nobody seemed to mind the lack of canned cranberries or stuffing, and we all got pretty drunk on some purloined Grain Belt. It was a nice evening indeed.

One thing bothered me, though; everyone called it an Orphan’s Feast. And the subsequent thanksgivings I’ve had sans family - which is all of them - have been referred to at least once as an orphan’s dinner.  And I hate that phrase.  It implies it’s a less-than event, something cobbled together for the poor unfortunates and unwashed masses that have nowhere else to go and, if not for the grace of the host, would be standing on a street corner, kicking rocks at passing cars.

I don’t think this is the case at all. It’s a gathering of people who want to be together rather than have to be together. It’s a gathering of friends who enjoy each other’s company with no strings, guilt trips, or trumped-up family drama.

But even with that, with the chosen family, there is the Expectation of Damocles hanging over everything – the comparison to The Family Dinner. Whether as antagonist or protagonist, The Dinner makes for a bad guest at any table.  Not the food itself, that part is awesome, I mean the expectations and comparisons to all the traditional family dinners ever.  "There must be turkey, if there isn’t, there is something missing."  This annoys me to no end – not just as a vegetarian, but as a free thinker.  "There needs to be stuffing and pie and all the traditional trimmings. It's not dinner unless there are yams god damn it!" Fallacies all.

So what am I doing this year?  Absolutely nothing.  El Boyfriend will be off in a sunnier climate and I have not availed myself upon the kindness of friends. The day will find me sleeping late, wandering around a bit in my pajamas, watching all the Criminal Minds reruns I can find, and maybe, just maybe, ordering a pizza. Not because it’s the only thing I can think of to do, but because it’s what I want to do.  It’s going to be a wonderful, quiet day, and for that I am very thankful.