My First Thanksgiving

This year I am hosting Thanksgiving dinner for the first time, and I'm having a mild nervous breakdown.  It's such an iconic meal, and there's a lot of pressure to get it right. Then, just to make sure I drive myself crazy, I asked extra people to join us, one of whom is a vegetarian.

But it's a family and friends kind of day, and I can't leave friends to celebrate alone. Besides, I see my family all the time, so the conversations will be more interesting if we add some new people to the mix. Possibly explosive if we let my liberal friend and my brother talk politics. Well, that's one way of making the holiday memorable.

On the plus side, the Thanksgiving menu is not terribly difficult, it's just large and dependent on good time management. (And mom is bringing the cranberries, so that's one less thing I have to make.) Since I'm having a vegetarian this year I've added my apple/leek casserole to the line up and I'm making the stuffing without chicken stock. Everybody should be happy with the food.

I've been thinking about serving dishes, what I have, what I can borrow. Will I bother with a center piece? (No.) Should I get some crystal to go with the china? (Probably, but this year the glasses are from IKEA.) How much food is enough? How much is too much?  I realize that I'm being ridiculous, that I will have eight (eight!) separate dishes (including pie) and that I've managed Christmas with half that. But I still find myself obsessing.


In addition to the meal, I'm looking at my house and wondering if there is some magic spell or something to keep pets from shedding, just for a couple of days. Why do I have such a ridiculously narrow table? (Seriously, I can't find tablecloths to fit it.) Why did I spend money on a vacation instead of window treatments for the living room?


Then there is animal management. My guest are bringing a dog, so the cats will have to be corralled and the house dog proofed. (Not that big a deal, I long ago put fragile things inside cabinets or up very high. Cats can be just as destructive to one's belongings.)  It's going to be chilly, should I put a blanket outside for the dog?


Deep breath. It's all going to be okay.


Do I have to make gravy?

What am I doing here?

Weekend before last I had an invitation to meet a bunch of people at a local tavern.  I only knew two of the group, (slightly) so it would involve meeting a lot of new people. New restaurant, new people, a mildly stressful situation. 

I argued with myself for an hour, about the benefits of leaving the house vs staying home and reading until I finally came up with the ultimate argument: "if I don’t go out and meet people, I am going to turn into a crazy cat lady.” 

And that is how I found myself in a karaoke bar, listening to an incredibly flat (but very enthusiastic) rendition of Bon Jovi’s "It's My Life".

I tried. I really did. I got up and sang. I had a couple beers. I bounced around on the dance floor. I chatted about the benefits of vodka soaked gummi bears over jello shots. (Both are gross, but gummi bears are less messy) But I always felt like I was watching the whole evening from the outside. Everyone else seemed to be having a really good time, and I don't know why, but I just couldn’t get into it. 

I wasn’t miserable, but I really wanted to go somewhere where the music was softer, where I could talk to the person next to me without shouting, and the drinks weren’t bizarre concoctions designed to get you drunk as quickly as possible.

Speaking of which, have you ever heard of a Birthday Cake Shot?  I'd never heard of such a thing before. So I learned something from the evening, which means it wasn't a total loss. 

I also have an invitation to a Halloween party, where they will be serving the aforementioned vodka soaked gummi bears.  Should I go?

On the Dubious Pleasure of Being an Adult

Last Friday I got a raise, and I swear, the first thought that went through my mind was: now's a good weekend to buy a lawnmower.

When did I get so dull?  

I needed a lawnmower. I've been borrowing my parents' mower for a year, and I couldn't reasonably do that forever.  I have my own lawn, I need my own lawnmower. Being responsible and taking care of your things is the right and proper thing to do. And yet...

It's a good lawnmower. It was reasonably priced, it starts easily and it cuts the grass well. I'm glad I have it. I have no complaints about my purchase, except that it's a lawnmower. I spent my raise on a lawnmower.

It bothers me that I didn't think about buying something less practical, like an X-box or a ridiculously overpriced handbag. It never even crossed my mind. I've never been a party girl, but I thought I had some personality. Being responsible and capable is useful and all, but it doesn't have much in the way of excitement or glamour. Next thing you know, I'll only being eating out at lunch (the prices are better) and refusing any caffeine after 2 pm.

The wages of sin may be death, but the wages of practicality appear to be boredom.

What do you want to be?

I have been lucky to have for friends many dynamic women. Women who knew what they wanted to achieve in life. Some are teachers, some ride horses, some are getting their doctorates, some own and run their own businesses.  But me? I'm Luann. (She's the blond on the far right.)

I never really knew what I wanted to do. In school I wanted to get good grades and graduate. That was it. I didn't have a career path in mind. It's not that I didn't think about it. I'm a planner. I like having things mapped out. But I couldn't decide what I wanted to be.

I have never been one of those people with a vocation. I thought back to what I wanted to be when I was a kid, and it changed a lot.  I went from opera singer, to novelist, to photographer, to cartoonist. I even remember a spate of Olympics-inspired gymnastics; that one wore off after belly flopping into the horse a few times too many.

I'm not complaining. I have a job that I'm good at, and it pays me decently. I have a house, health insurance a 401K and a cat. I'm just restless I guess.

Is this it?

Friday angst video