Thanks Babs You Bitch

When I drink I agree to go to people's Holiday Parties. 

Last night, several glasses of wine, plus a whiskey drink into the evening,  I agreed to go to my good friend Deanah's Thanksgiving 'Feast'...

'SURE! I'll go! It will BE FUN! What can I BRING!?"

I was, as I do, channeling someone named Barbara Gushington whom everyone calls Babs; a woman with one of those stupid bi-level hair shelves, who wears lip liner badly and reads her junk mail before SHREDDING IT.  As if anyone would want to steal her bullshit SAM'S CLUB identity and end up on the business end of a Mary Kay cosmetic. Babs loves parties! 

It takes a shit ton of alcohol to get me there. And then I HOPE that I left my fly open for the rest of the evening just to retain some dignity.

I probably touched Deanah's arm, but I don't remember.  Thankfully.

Deanah asks me every year for Thanksgiving and I always polititely decline,

"I can't. I hate Thanksgiving. It seems needy to be giving thanks over a plate of cranberry sauce and something known as Candied Yams...WTF are you people thinking? We should go to a casino and apologize while plugging wads of cash into the Wheel of Fortune slot machines until there is nothing left but Friday."

I like casinos.  I like giving BACK to the natives.  Since they refuse my blankets.

I have not actually GONE to a Thanksgiving dinner since circa 2000 when Deanah had her Vegan Feast, thanks given to the phase her oldest daughter was going through, I had to rejoice gratitudinally over Tofurkey, seed balls, and a carrot cake that still had the leafy tops on. 

Deanah has 106 friends. They all cook complicated and huge, aesthetically pleasing side dishes and desserts.  They 'mingle' and have normal, civilized, politically-charged, but always correct conversations.  They use napkins.

I hate Thanksgiving for too many reasons to list here and always have.  An entire holiday revolving around A MEAL.  Normally I eat standing up or walking. I hate sitting at a table, unless it's in a restaurant because then I don't have to CARE who is doing the dishes later.  Things are all equal in the restaurant.

Deanah is jewish and I know there are Forbidden Foods and complicated rules that govern how food can be prepared...like meat and cheese cannot co-habitate on the PLATE!! I found that out once by bringing 3 huge canadian bacon cheese pizzas to the synogogue on Getting To Know Your Somali Refugee Night.  The night I also discovered that CANADIAN BACON IS STILL HAM and FORBIDDEN just like it's yummier cousins BACON AND SAUSAGE.  I thought the Canadian part meant it was probably some other animal meat. Like a Canadian pig was actually what we call a Horse.

Or Babs.

Comments

[J]

Funny blogg

Long hike with the dogs then Pizza and watching bad movies, those are my Thanksgiving plans. Hate the sympathy invites, no really, I rather be alone then spending a long dinner with you. We need a thanksgiving trail so we don’t have to deal with normal social crap.

~Jorgen

[katy]

Long dog hike and pizza plus bad movies sounds like what my inner pilgrim would like. Or the trial. A trial would be great. Who are these people that want to spend the day cooking and eating then cleaning up after it? What the festive fuck kind of holiday is that?

Bitter. I am a bitter descendant of hillbillys who came here too late to be thankful for anything that involved corn in it's pre-fermented solid state.