I hope you are all in the kitchen back home with your families arguing over trivial stuff like whether the cranberry sauce is organic.
I, on the other hand am alone in my Oregon apartment blow-drying my hair and singing along to Kanye and simultaneously wondering why my parents did not Skype me let alone text me on the one holiday my father is most passionate about. I am just going to chalk it up to the fact that they went to bed before I woke up…considering the eleven hour time difference that separates us.
No worries; not trying to throw a pity party for myself, I mean I AM blowdrying my hair after all which must mean I am going somewhere, n’est-ce-pas? In fact, even though I will not be with my parents for thanksgiving for the third year in a row, I am still celebrating with my friends, David, Kyle, and Kelsey with no other than an artisanal four course menu at Urban Farmer so it’s all good in this hood.
Now that I have prefaced, I would like to reflect a little bit on where I spent Thanksgiving two years ago:
I spent a glorious week in this town with three other friends, Anna, Emily, and Hallie- days spent grazing the promenade, reading Hemingway alongside coffee and omelettes at quaint art cafes, and pretending to be French.
Come Thanksgiving day, we decided to “splurge” and enjoy a phenomenal meal at the nicest hotel in town- a meal for me which included an antipasti appetiser, hunk of Sirloin steak, and mashed potatoes- a substitution we had to insist that the waitstaff honour.
Though I was not with my family, Thanksgiving of 2009 may have been one of the most true-to-meaning Thanksgivings of my life; perhaps because of the very fact that I was away from my family and temporarily living in a foreign country separated from many of my close comforts…like a hair straightener and stylish clothes:
Actually, funny enough this is probably the best dressed Anna, Emily, Hallie, and I were over the entire course of the prior several months. In fact, we had gone shopping to a “Western” fashion department store earlier in the day and picked out a few choice pieces to wear to our Thanksgiving dinner out.
We were in a locale where Thanksgiving is completely unheard of; however I say the four of us did a pretty fair job at maintaining the spirit 9,000 miles away from home. For one thing, we managed to find a French bakery that would make us an apple pie (THANKFULLY considering pumpkin pie reminds me of encrusted baby food):
There was also a blogpost I wrote in a janky internet cafe about everything I was thankful for…but I’ll link that in the next post as to not giveaway which random little enclave of the world we were in.
A part of me is ridiculously nostalgic for that place though- partially because it was 100 degrees unlike my dear Portland where it is raining and dark by 3:30 PM.
Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to call The Nines Hotel to see if I can valet my car so that I don’t mess up my hair and my new Vera Wang flats tonight.
Where and how are you spending Thanksgiving this year?
Ever spent Thanksgiving abroad?