And speaking of belligerence, this is the first year that I'm not spending Thanksgiving with my side of the family and I'm a little nervous. My family is very big on tradition. Everyone gathers at the same place at the same time every year to drink too much wine and eat too much food and have lofty discussion on politics and religion and the new art flick and the old neighborhood and sometimes there are disagreements and always there is laughter and lots of hugging and kissing and drunken professing of emotions. That's just how we roll.
And gah knows I spend my days wracked with guilt for leaving my family in Philadelphia and missing all the lofty conversations and disagreements and laughter and hugging and kissing and drunken professing of emotions. Because I'm the only one who's gone. I'm the only one who's left. And that's not easy. Because my family -- my whole family -- is my life. And tomorrow -- while not spending Thanksgiving with my side of the family -- I expect that missing to be heightened to the max.
Me: I'm a little worried I'm going to get inappropriately drunk and cry at the dinner table.
My mom: I hope you do. I'm going to drunk dial you from our table just to let you know how much fun we're all having.
Then last night, I turned to B in bed.
Me: Will you do me a really big favor?
Me: Put down your book, this is important. Will you promise to get inappropriately drunk with me on Thanksgiving?
Me: I just don't want to be the only one who's making a scene. It would really mean a lot to me.
B: Siiiiiiggghhhh. Yes. I promise to get drunk with you.
Me: Inappropriately drunk. Like, really, really drunk.
Me: I'm also going to need you to be overly emotional. You know how my family gets all lovey? You're going to have to publicly profess your love for me a few times.
B: I'm not going to be hanging all over you -
Me: I NEED YOU TO BE DRUNK AND LOVEY. I NEED THIS. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT.
B: Fine, fine. I'll be drunk and lovey.
Me: Okay, thank you. It's a start. We'll improvise when we get there. I love you.
B: Jesus Christ.
So here's to getting drunk and lovey, crying into the mashed potatoes and eating yourself sick. HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!