Happy Thanksgiving, All

Thanksgiving. . . Breathe it in. Say it again: Thanks. giving.

What is this holiday all about? Why, spending time with family, relaxing, listing all of the things for which we are grateful, eating enough food to nourish the entire nation of Ethiopia, and then passing out on a couch.

What have I done with my Thanksgiving break? Oh. Let me tell you all about it.

Monday night: Knowing that I had to work at eight in the morning on Tuesday, I went with a former roommate to pick up a supplier, then proceeded to Kroger to acquire coconut rum. While waiting in the car for the supplier, who happened to call me? My great aunt--a pastor's wife. So I had what was a normal conversation for us, got the alcohol, and got drunk while watching Shrek on a Monday night.

Tuesday: After work and class, I drove home, arriving around seven. By nine, I was out with my step-brother, headed to a friend's house to get trashed. By ten, I was drunk and high. By one, I was passed out on a couch.

Wednesday: I slept all morning, got up for a little bit, slept all evening, got up for a bit, and slept all night.

Thursday: Thanksgiving. I got up and played with my little brother, then tried to find a place to hide when my mother's husband's family showed up. I spent most of the day following my older brother's puppy around. Then we sat down for dinner and my step-brother decided I should drink a glass of Spumante. At this point I made a huge mistake. When my step-brother made a comment about getting drunk after a couple of glasses of Spumante, I challenged him; it's only eight percent alcohol. And what did he do? Had me drink four glasses. Then his dad poured me a fifth. My stomach wasn't happy. And my head wasn't the clearest. So I slept for three hours. Then I went to a second Thanksgiving dinner at my mother's husband's ex-wife's house. Meeting my step-siblings' aunt and uncle for the first time, my step-brother decided to tell everyone I had consumed half a bottle of Spumante by myself, and that in the summer, I drink whiskey and smoke cigars with his mom. All the while, I'm sitting there holding a glass of Spumante that my step-brother told his mom I wanted. Lovely, eh?

Such a traditional, family-oriented Thanksgiving. Excitingly enough, the rest of the night is still open for activity, too. Who knows what will happen? I may end up back at my mother's husband's ex-wife's house to drink whiskey and watch movies. Or I may end up out with my step-brother, getting drunk somewhere else. Or I could just sit here watching Law & Order all night. . . So many options. . . So many wholesome ways to celebrate another empty American holiday. . .