So my Thanksgiving trip home was wild. First there was the hello, haven't seen you in almost 11 months stuff. Then there was the sadness of my newborn cousin's death--which was pretty much laced up in the photo slideshow my aunt made of his entire four-day life set to "Hey Jude." I'm taking odds on how long it takes me to start crying the next time I hear the song.
Thanksgiving was pretty fun, spent time with my dad's side, plus four hours riding in the car with him listening to Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings and generally getting my country on. The part that was not fun was telling him about my mom's upcoming wedding. (They're still friends--which complicates the situation.) He claims he had no clue. She claims he already heard about it from someone else and she meant to tell him but then my cousin died and it all got weird. This is all just a symptom of my family's inability to talk about things that actually matter.
Saturday was my mom's wedding. I wore my purple dress, read a poem, ate stuffed mushrooms, danced with my little cousins, drank 5 beers, 3 martinis, and an unknown quantity of Wild Turkey. I made my brother's friends dance with me, bought my cousin his first ever drink in a bar (a HOTEL bar complete with cover band!), and collapsed onto a bed with 3 other fully-clothed people.
Sunday morning I got the fuck out of there. My mom's new husband (I maintain he would be my stepdad only if I were still a minor) picked me up and drove me home, where I was very happy to brush my teeth. I took a shower, got dressed for brunch, crawled back into bed and should have stayed there. I did not even realize how hung over I was.
Anyway, I have three adorable new step-cousins and a step-sister (they get the step because they're kids and think of me that way).
My boyfriend was supposed to be there, but had to work. Including Thanksgiving Day. So I have a little Fakesgiving planned for us this weekend. Pork chops, pumpkin-apple stuffing, blue mashed potatoes, roasted beets, pumpkin-apple pie, and a very nice hard cider. Wish me luck.
Thanksgiving was pretty fun, spent time with my dad's side, plus four hours riding in the car with him listening to Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings and generally getting my country on. The part that was not fun was telling him about my mom's upcoming wedding. (They're still friends--which complicates the situation.) He claims he had no clue. She claims he already heard about it from someone else and she meant to tell him but then my cousin died and it all got weird. This is all just a symptom of my family's inability to talk about things that actually matter.
Saturday was my mom's wedding. I wore my purple dress, read a poem, ate stuffed mushrooms, danced with my little cousins, drank 5 beers, 3 martinis, and an unknown quantity of Wild Turkey. I made my brother's friends dance with me, bought my cousin his first ever drink in a bar (a HOTEL bar complete with cover band!), and collapsed onto a bed with 3 other fully-clothed people.
Sunday morning I got the fuck out of there. My mom's new husband (I maintain he would be my stepdad only if I were still a minor) picked me up and drove me home, where I was very happy to brush my teeth. I took a shower, got dressed for brunch, crawled back into bed and should have stayed there. I did not even realize how hung over I was.
Anyway, I have three adorable new step-cousins and a step-sister (they get the step because they're kids and think of me that way).
My boyfriend was supposed to be there, but had to work. Including Thanksgiving Day. So I have a little Fakesgiving planned for us this weekend. Pork chops, pumpkin-apple stuffing, blue mashed potatoes, roasted beets, pumpkin-apple pie, and a very nice hard cider. Wish me luck.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
jamielee:
That sounds like a crazy wedding. And a lot of alcohol. 
dominanefret:
Four days? That is so sad. What happened? Hugs.