What I'm not missing
So this might be premature, but I've been thinking about Thanksgiving. This will be the first time in my life that I will not be home for Turkey Day. With the brother and I both residing on the East Coast, our rents made the generous suggestion that we all break bread with our family in New Jersey rather than coming home. We both gratefully agreed so we could avoid the expensive flight, the screaming children, and the generally messiness that is O'Hare airport around the holidays.
The other thing that I'm avoiding (purposely?) is seeing people I know from high school. Not my friends from high school, mind you, because they're either not coming home or I just recently saw them. No, I'm talking about the official bar night at Prairie Moon where you arm yourself with interesting stories and a cocktail in order to prove that you have made a life for yourself outside of Evanston and that you've matured accordingly.
Descending upon the bar the night before Thanksgiving you see people that you either haven't thought about, forgotten existed, or have been morbidly curious since high school. During college, this was a time honored ritual because we were still mostly tethered to Evanston, for better or for worse. My friends and I were still excited to see these random folks and get caught up on their lives, but since my senior year, this has becoming an increasingly cringeworthy exercise. Are we really going to rehash that thing I did sophomore year? Or that guy that you dated? Really? That's what we're going to talk about?
Occasionally I see that person that I have lost touch with who I actually want to see, and we separate from the group and talk about real things that have been going on in each other's lives. Unfortunately I usually spend the night engaged in pathetic small talk or eyeing the cast of characters with a smug sense of superiority over those that I once deemed as "cool."
The best example of this was when I ran into my high school crush two years ago. We have known each other since fifth grade and I had "dated" for a month in seventh grade. (He dumped me because I was flat--was the joke ever on him!) I lusted after him all through high school: went to any play he was in, convinced myself that when he flirted with my friends he was just trying to make me jealous, and even hooked up with him a couple of times. I literally bumped into him and was pretty stoked to catch up.
"Hey!! How are you??" I hugged him hello.
Twenty minutes later and not a word in edgewise, I interjected.
"Oh, yeah you're going to move back here? That's great!! Well, you know I'm good too. I'm moving to DC, I've been dating someone and school is great, thanks for asking."
At that point I made a mad dash to the bathroom. Were you always this self-centered? How had I thought you were crushworthy for so long?
Want to know the ironic part? My friend told me later that she overheard him talking to someone else and he said that I was, "obviously trying too hard to prove I had moved on."
Well, that's just fine. Because you were always a horrible actor.
Happy Thanksgiving!
The other thing that I'm avoiding (purposely?) is seeing people I know from high school. Not my friends from high school, mind you, because they're either not coming home or I just recently saw them. No, I'm talking about the official bar night at Prairie Moon where you arm yourself with interesting stories and a cocktail in order to prove that you have made a life for yourself outside of Evanston and that you've matured accordingly.
Descending upon the bar the night before Thanksgiving you see people that you either haven't thought about, forgotten existed, or have been morbidly curious since high school. During college, this was a time honored ritual because we were still mostly tethered to Evanston, for better or for worse. My friends and I were still excited to see these random folks and get caught up on their lives, but since my senior year, this has becoming an increasingly cringeworthy exercise. Are we really going to rehash that thing I did sophomore year? Or that guy that you dated? Really? That's what we're going to talk about?
Occasionally I see that person that I have lost touch with who I actually want to see, and we separate from the group and talk about real things that have been going on in each other's lives. Unfortunately I usually spend the night engaged in pathetic small talk or eyeing the cast of characters with a smug sense of superiority over those that I once deemed as "cool."
The best example of this was when I ran into my high school crush two years ago. We have known each other since fifth grade and I had "dated" for a month in seventh grade. (He dumped me because I was flat--was the joke ever on him!) I lusted after him all through high school: went to any play he was in, convinced myself that when he flirted with my friends he was just trying to make me jealous, and even hooked up with him a couple of times. I literally bumped into him and was pretty stoked to catch up.
"Hey!! How are you??" I hugged him hello.
Twenty minutes later and not a word in edgewise, I interjected.
"Oh, yeah you're going to move back here? That's great!! Well, you know I'm good too. I'm moving to DC, I've been dating someone and school is great, thanks for asking."
At that point I made a mad dash to the bathroom. Were you always this self-centered? How had I thought you were crushworthy for so long?
Want to know the ironic part? My friend told me later that she overheard him talking to someone else and he said that I was, "obviously trying too hard to prove I had moved on."
Well, that's just fine. Because you were always a horrible actor.
Happy Thanksgiving!
posted by Libberash at 10:34 PM
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