Thursday, November 22

no thanks

as my t-shirt will tell you, this family doesn't think much of Thanksgiving, which is why when my sister told me to "bring drinks" to dinner at our mom's house, I thought she meant beer until like an hour ago when I found out that she was asking me to bring anything that was a drink-- not alcohol-- which could be anything and is too many things for me to understand without asking for help.
and so I googled how to bring drinks to thanksgiving.

Act II is a place for women, where women can go to just be themselves, and also find out about stuff that only women care about. we met through google a couple of minutes ago. she seems nice, but kind of dumb.

while some of those are a little tricky (how to ge universal remote, everyone), I'm pretty sure that letter of resignation just wrote itself...

dear my husband,

I wanted to eSuprise you by printing out some e-structions on how you could eBulid me a deck, but there were ants allover the computer so I bought a puppy and now I want to be an actress.
please don't ever leave me, I'm fat and I have bad credit.

the sofa bed's too big without you,


act III is like the parts of VH1's The Pickup Artist when the contestants would say something about how they are a nerd and it would make you feel bad, mixed with none of the good or happy parts of anything.

next stop: Sad Central Station. please have your tickets ready.

looks like they forgot step zero, which is buying a computer and learning how to use it for the sole purpose of looking up how to enjoy Thanksgiving alone on a website that is for women.

also, act III scene I is that putting on the TV as soon as you wake up so that you feel like there's someone else in the room with you deserves to drink poison out of a mug that declares it's the World's Saddest Path, and should specifically count as cheating on this test which is about being alone.

don't do that. don't do any of that. go back to sleep, this time forever.

act III scene IV: Our hero returns to the apartment, weighed down by the plastic bags of sorrow. He flicks the light switch by the door, only to find that the electricity was cut-off while he was out picking up a Thanksgiving meal at the local Boston Market. He lights one, two pumpkin-scented candles and sits in front of the television set to watch the remainder of the parade but oh yeah, that's right, no electricity. It doesn't matter, he wasn't really watching it anyway. Suddenly, he realizes that the food in his fridge will soon spoil, so he takes all three Hungry Man Dinners out of the freezer and sets them on the radiator nearby. There's no sense in wasting these three Hungry Man Dinners, he tells himself, not on Thanksgiving. He lights another candle and leafs through the print edition of, finally arriving at the eHow To Survive a Blackout tipsheet. He closes the book and reminds himself that he got the day started on the right path which gives him the power to get through anything. He is wrong on both counts, but he doesn't know it yet.

at this point, it is very important to get settled in. holiday celebrations can be hectic and overwhelming, and can really take their toll on a person who is not being careful. on this, your own awesome Thanksgiving, try relaxing alone in the living room for a little while, to prepare yourself for spending minutes alone in the kitchen, and then hours alone back in the living room. when the mayhem's subsided, you can sneak off to bed (alone) for some settling in (alone again/still.) relax-- no one will know that you're planning on putting off cleaning up until tomorrow!

while this might sound like the final step, you're not actually finished enjoying Thanksgiving alone until you travel back in time to a week-and-a-half ago, look up by myself, plz help on (your favorite a place for women), and then tell the story of how this happened to you once:


happy thanksgiving.
see you at christmas.

1 comment:

Unknown said...