One of my coworkers was shocked when I said that I would not be cooking this year for Thanksgiving. So much has changed. My aunt has died. My stepmother has died. My father is spending the holiday weekend in Alabama. The last time my mother and I were in the same place for Thanksgiving was in 1983. I used to spend Thanksgiving weekend sharing my leftovers with family members. But this year? My parents are still alive and I feel like an orphan. I had invitations to be elsewhere but let's be honest. Over the last few weekends, I have barely gotten out of bed. After Friday night, I rarely speak to anyone until Monday morning other than my father. Because he calls. And occasionally I make it over to the Zombie household on Sundays -- late in the day.
In the past, it was always a choice to not spend Thanksgiving with my parents. This year I suddenly did not have the choice. It was a bit devastating. I attribute this, along with moving at work, to my weakened immune system. Because I've worked with kids for years and almost never gotten sick. Then again, while the first day of it all was horrid, I have been recovering from the ick rather quickly as compared to others. So maybe those years with the kids has paid off.
After almost a week straight of dining at Poulet last week, I gave into their charms and ordered Thanksgiving dinner from them. Here's the menu I chose. (And yeah, I love me some gravy as evidenced by the photo.)
- Turkey from Diestal
- Focaccia stuffing with chard and sage
- Giblet madeira gravy
- Roasted root vegetables (yams, parsnips and carrots)
- Green beans with shallots and pecans
- Cranberry orange relish
- Pumpkin sweet potato pie with whipped cream
As I finished off the plate of food -- funny how I can actually eat a whole plate of food if I don't have to cook it -- I came to a realization. Holidays, at best, just mean a day off from work for me at this point. And so when I hear other people going on about how they're excited about spending a day with family, I just don't get it. I mean I do but I don't. And that's what sucks about this time of year. When people don't understand why it's all OK with me. I've had years to get used to it all and have reached some level of acceptance of this is how it just is. This is how it has always been; I just forgot temporarily.
So please excuse me if I say I am tempted to say that I just vomited in my mouth in comments in response to various posts out there over the next few weeks. Because I suppose I'd love to have that Norman Rockwell/Hallmark kind of holiday season but that's just not reality for me -- and I'm sure for plenty of other folks out there as well. And hearing people say, "This is what the holidays are about." Really not fucking feeling it. Best part of this weekend to date? The food from Poulet and the time to catch up on some of my reading while having a cat curled up next to me. Because so far this is the first weekend in some time that I have not felt like curling up in bed. Well, I do but I just can't sleep anymore. I guess I'm too pissed off to sleep.
But you know what I really wonder? What's going to be on the menu at Poulet for Christmas? I know that next year I'll be ordering for Passover as well. Loved what I saw on their menu this year for that holiday but didn't order. (You don't have to be Jewish to order for Passover, do you?) Oh, and can January 2 come quick enough?
Please excuse the photos. They were taken with my phone. I don't have a battery at this time for my camera. I'd love to tell you about how that came to be but I'd end up being the screaming banshee that I was at work on Tuesday once more. In the meantime, I am trying to figure out where I will get the $80 to replace my battery and charger. Especially since I now have the one parking space at my building -- at a cost of $75 a month. But I'm thankful for that space as it means no longer having to circle for half an hour at times looking for parking. And I wish that some beyotch has the audacity to park their shit in my space.
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