Alone at Thanksgiving and Winning at Life

I may be a party of one but it’s a hell of a party.

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My family cancelled Thanksgiving. That’s right. You heard me. Cancelled. Well, for good reason. My dad has pneumonia. Thanksgiving would be not good at this point, especially since my dad keeps declaring he’s dying in the same way Sally declared she was turning 30. “Someday.” If you have no idea what I’m talking about, shame on you.

So, it’s going to be me and the 14-year-old antisocial girl child at home. This is the first time ever that it has just been the two of us. I’m so god damn happy I can’t stand myself.

As a single person, the holidays can be horrific. You get invited to parties out of pity. People at said parties inquire about the status of your singleness. Set ups are implied.

The only good thing to come out of being single on Thanksgiving is that everyone wants to give you all the leftovers. Winner, winner, turkey dinner.

Now, I love my parents. They are a goofy duo that have no idea exactly how hilarious they are. But I am beyond excited about the idea of not having to impress a single person, act appropriately, get dressed or make small talk. Essentially, we are winning at life!

  • Every single dish will involve bacon. Seriously. I am going to wrap my turkey in a coat of bacon. Mashed potatoes? Adding bacon. Biscuits? I don’t play, fool.
  • Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. It’s corny but it involves Al Roker. We’re in. It’s not Thanksgiving until there are jazz hands and a fan kick finish.
  • Mom’s getting lit. It’s gonna happen. Not intentionally, really. It’s just 8:24am and I’m about to make a mimosa. With about 3 drops of orange juice. I will try to pace myself.
  • Related to the above: I’m breaking out the good wine. Awwwww yeah. I don’t have to share. My kid is underage. She can’t have any. I know the rules. (Pace yourself, Vanessa.)
  • Also, related to the above: There will be a dance party at some point. Can’t stop. Won’t stop. It’s all fun and games until you invite Nicki Minaj.
  • Dessert will be the leftover Halloween candy.
  • The eating of brussel sprouts. Ah, hell no! The only thing in my house that is going to smell like feet is my teenager.
  • Cloth napkins. We’re classing it up with paper towels as napkins.
  • Going around the table saying what we’re thankful for. We’re thankful for not having to do that.
  • Arguing over who is washing and who is drying. To ensure this is not an issue, I may break out the fancy paper plates. Oooooo. Ahhhhh.
  • Waistbands that involve buttons. That’s a hard pass. I have carefully curated my holiday outfit to consist of yoga pants and a Top Gun “Talk to Me, Goose” t-shirt. Fancy!

There is no feeling bad for this single person today. As a matter of fact, you may be hating me right now. I’m cool with that. I’ll have left over stuffing and can send you some as a conciliatory gift. My stuffing is legit.

Written by

Flaming pinball, nerd, music lover, wine snob, horrible violin player. No, I won’t stop taking pictures of my drinks. vanessaltorre@gmail.com IG: vanessaltorre

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