And So It Goes

Un-American as it may seem, I don't really like Thanksgiving. I have my reasons, something to do with eating luke-warm food off my lap as I sit on the cooler outside my aunt's double wide. Or maybe its replaying the same conversation fifty times, once with everyone family member present and then once again for the forgetful. "No, I don't have a job. Yes, I am looking. Yes, of course I remember the time last year when I was drunk and ran into you at Chili's. Why, no, I hadn't thought of looking for work at the mall. I'll look into that as soon as I get home." Or maybe its fighting traffic piles and red lights for almost two hours, each way, only to come back home and have to forage for corn dogs.
The sentimental me, the one who used to love Thanksgiving, really wanted to put the ghosts of holidays past aside and relish in good times and great food. Well, sentimentality seemed to get lost among the sale-paper tablecloths and 80 degree weather. Thanksgiving itself seemed to pale in the looming shadow of the "biggest shopping day of the year." My equally cynical younger brother agreed that today was less about giving thanks and being with family than it was just another Thursday with an over-abundance of holiday themed food.

Here's hoping your Thanksgiving was everything mine wasn't.
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