Thanksgiving and General Holiday Malaise

If I had the option of fast-forwarding through the holidays this year, I'd take it. It's not that I hate holidays or that I'm a hopeless embittered Scrooge, it's that I just don't care. I don't want the pressure, the effort, the expense, or the false good cheer. (I'm very cheerful by nature, so I would be downright nauseating if I tried to augment that for the holidays.) I'm just not into it this year, so please hold the Santa Hats and light-up neckties until December 2008.

Thanksgiving is eminently skippable. My mom is from Australia, and my dad grew up on an Indian reservation. Neither one had much to say about the Pilgrims, so we usually just had a roast chicken because it was close enough. Thanksgiving meant a four-day weekend and little else. So on Thursday, Imperial Me and I will be couch-slouching and drinking beer, while enjoying a festive goulash. (I prefer to use my Crock-Pot so I don't have to try to cook after consuming drinks.) Grand Theft Auto may be involved, family dysfunction will most certainly be not.

In years past, my sister and I would couch-slouch and watch Buffy marathons, or I'd go to an Orphan Thanksgiving. As the years have gone by, many of my friends have married and the number of orphans has dwindled. Folks that used to have zero plans on the holidays now scurry up and down the East Coast trying to spend time with every little corner of both families. (Having done the holiday season in the married-endless-road-trip style, I can say it's even more stressful than it sounds.)

May you all have the Thanksgivings you want, whether you spend it with parents, someone else's parents, a restaurant, or hunkered down on the couch. And for those who know me, feel free to stop by for a beer after you've endured your family Thanksgivings. I'll even keep some goulash for ya, and you can each take a turn devastating Vice City.