Shanksgiblins I Have Known
A couple of years ago via email, my friend Bird and I started discussing our Thanksgiving plans. For some reason, one of us referred to the holiday as “Thanksgibbin,” and then it became a game of fucking with the word until barely recognizable (“Fankshiblin,” “Thanesmibin”), and thus, my favorite bastardization – “Shanksgiblin” – was born.
Bird is also the friend with whom I shared a very fateful trip to Chicago for grad school auditions. Through a series of very un-fun events, we ran out of money and had to stay at the posh Hotel Cass, where the front desk staff sat safely behind BULLETPROOF GLASS. I was entirely confident we’d never live to see another Ganksfibbin.
Anyway, today we leave for WV to spend our Thanksgiving being generally ignored by everyone while they fawn over the baby. I’m really looking forward to Sadie getting her first taste of turkey and pumpkin pie, so I’ll be doing my best to ensure all major family blow-ups occur after we’ve all had our fill of whipped topping.
Last year at precisely this time, I was anxiously awaiting updates from my sister, who was experiencing the joys of being in labor whilst sick with the flu. I spent the very early hours of Thanksgiving 2008 staring at my newborn niece and trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I’d be meeting a similarly squishy and crinkly individual just a few months later.
Obviously, last year was a pretty spectacular Thanksgiving, but some of my other favorites include the two years my we hosted my parents in our apartment in Queens, then took them to explore New York City afterwards.
Each year, my Dad insisted on getting a hot dog from a street cart. Add “Street Cart Hot Dogs” to the list of “Foods I Always Pretend I’m Grossed Out By But Secretly Love And Pray They Will Not Give Me Diarrhea.”
In 2005, we hosted BOTH sets of parents in our new house – the house we had just moved into ONE MONTH PRIOR. Internet, I do not so much recommend doing this, unless you have some pretty friendly narcotics on hand. I recall spending roughly 80 frillion dollars on food, booze, and holiday decorations, and staying up until 2am the night before on my hands and knees (hot!) scrubbing the floor of the entryway (not hot). Then I made the classic mistake of drinking while cooking, so that when it came time to eat, I was too tired and buzzed to really give a hot damn about food.
Honestly, I’m really not all that hard to please when it comes to Thanksgiving. As long as I get a chance to see some of the Macy’s parade on TV and manage to fill my belly with turkey and pumpkin pie, I’m happy. I don’t care where the meal comes from (last year, we ate at a YOOGE hotel buffet, where there were approximately ten kinds of pie OHTHANKYOUJESUS), I don’t care who hosts (although I’m getting itchy to host at our house again – someone please slap me soundly about the face), I just want 1) parade, 2) food, and oh yeah, 3) family. Even though that last one sometimes makes me want to don a disguise of a pilgrim hat and fancy eyelashes and spend the holiday coasting down Broadway with some pilgrims on my back.
Anyway, family drama aside (and I am seriously hoping it stays aside this year), I’m very excited about Sadie’s first Thanksgiving. Now that the enormous task of getting her things packed for the trip is done,* I can sit back and concentrate on giving thanks for the most awesome little turkey I know.
* Internet, I cannot even begin to explain to you how stressed out I get trying to pack outfits for Sadie whenever we go on a trip. It always starts out innocently enough: I pick out a few outfits, fold them up, DONE! But wait! Do those pants still fit? Isn’t that onesie a little short? Will it be cold this weekend? Why don’t I have tights that match? DAMMIT what if she has an assplosion and I need to change her?! I NEED AN ENTIRE SET OF BACK-UP OUTFIT PIECES, AND THEY ALL MUST FIT AND MATCH!!1!! It took me approximately 1 hour this morning to pack three outfits for a 7.5-month-old baby. And I still had yet to experience the fresh hell of packing my OWN clothes for the trip.
Have a happy and assplosion-free Thanksgiving, Internet!
Entry filed under: Gobble-gobble.