“You don’t say very much.”
“I don’t need to,” you reply.
I nod because you’re right and I bite into my wrap.
“Hey look at this.” You show me your phone and smile as I laugh at the image. You turn back around and focus on your food again.
Quick exchanges.
Laughs and smiles.
Lunch is better when you’re comfortable enough not to talk.
*I wrote this four years ago. It came up as a memory on the Facebook. Since Thanksgiving is upon us I thought I’d share it again
I don’t really cook.
Scratch that.
I don’t cook.
Occasionally I will bake things that look really nice and taste just as good. Sometimes I make beans and I don’t burn them. Other times I manage to make spaghetti.
I know what you’re thinking, “HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU BURN BEANS? YOU ONLY HAVE TO BOIL THEM.” Oh my friends. If you only knew. I once burned the spaghetti. You can’t win them all, my little turtledoves. You can’t win them all.
I digress.
It’s Thanksgiving, a holiday that makes me so happy that I’m ‘Merican. Trust me, rest of the world, you are missing out.
I’m sitting in the kitchen smelling the turkey I just put in the oven (but did not prepare, putting it in the oven is the only thing I could be trusted to do) and watching the parade. There’s cajeta boiling on the stove because I learned the hard way, last night, that I do not know how to make praline topping the way the Pilsbury cookbook told me to. It’s okay though.
And as I watch a bunch of overly excited elementary school students dance to a song about Santa being real or something I realize I’m supposed to be reflecting on what I’m thankful about.
I know there are those people who like to ruin Thanksgiving by moaning, “you’re supposed to be thankful every day.” And all I can think is, “shut up, nobody asked you to talk.”
Because let’s face it. Sometimes life just gets in the way of gratitude.
There’s work, and chores, and responsibility, and those family members and friends that just annoy the heck out of you, and bad hair days, and traffic tickets, and inconsiderate people and too much traffic, and accidents, and paperwork, and burnt food, and sleepless nights, and prolonged hospital stays, and everything else that keeps us too busy to even want to say thank you to anyone.
So I think that it’s wonderful that on every fourth Thursday of November we, as a nation, together, say, “stop, collaborate and listen– er… give thanks.” Or something to that extent. I’m sorry, I use any opportunity to keep Vanilla Ice relevant.
And when I’m feeling low and sad I forget that I have so much to be thankful for. But rather than bore you with a long list of things you probably don’t care about I’ll tell you the two that are always at the forefront of my mind.
I thank God for my family, extended and immediate. For my parents who are supportive of me in everything that I do and for my wonderful sisters, with whom I have a freakishly close bond. I’m thankful that even though they say I followed them home from the monkey zoo, they decided to keep me.
And then there’s my adoptive family. My friends, near and far. They say you can’t choose your family but you can choose your friends. And I’m so happy that they chose me. And even when I’m crochety and moody and mean they still love me for some reason. What would I do without you guys? Probably sing less karaoke…
So on this day full of nummy nums and warm feelings, I hope you are gathering ’round the table with those who mean the most to you, getting ready to stuff yourself till your pants burst at the seams.
And I hope that you remember that no matter what, you are loved and there is nothing I can think of to be more thankful for.
I haven’t been a good friend. But then again, neither have you.
That’s life, you say.
I don’t accept it.
Fill me in on all the things.
Explain to me the past few years of your life.
How do I explain to you mine? What do I say to tell you 900 days of the mundane, the sad, the little joys?
It’s a lot of me to ask.
You’re getting married soon.
I wish you the best.
It’s hard for things to be the same, but you can’t blame me for hoping.
I wrote my maid of honor speech the night of the rehearsal dinner in a drunken fit of emotion. I figured I’d share since I haven’t posted in a while due to wedding stuff.
*the following is a little different from what I said because I was trying not to cry and I added things*
“ I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted to say here tonight.
Not because I find it difficult to speak about my love for Megan or the joy that I have, now that she has her Carls, but because I wanted desperately to make sure I found the right words.
Megan and I have been friends since freshman year of high school. Which at this point is more than half of our lives. She found my peanut in seventh period biology and what can I say, I fell for the girl in the baggy pants and band t-shirts. I could write a book about our friendship, call it the adventures of beans and crackers–I’m beans, she’s crackers. It’s our karaoke stage name. It’s a thing.
But I’ve only been allotted a few minutes so I’ll reign it in.
I’m not one to be stuck in the past or spend my time trying to relive the “glory days” of my high school experience but without those crazy days I wouldn’t have found Megan. God bless the administration that seemed to think Megan and I should have nearly every single class together for four years. But man why did our math teachers ask have to suck?
We’ve been through a lot together, making it through the craziness of our teenage years, the misadventures of trying to figure out how to be grown ups in our 20s, Megan have you figured it out yet? Because I’m still having trouble adulting. Being there for each other for more than just the late night giggle fests. For the hard times too.
And now here you are taking that next step in your life.
I remember when I met Carl, I new immediately that I liked this guy. And I was actually really excited you’d finally found someone who was taller than you in heels.
Carl, the more I’ve gotten to know you the more I come to love you as well. I’m pretty sure I can speak for all of Megan’s friends, as we’ve discussed you a lot over the past few years, you see we had to make sure you were suitable for our girl, and we’ve come to realize that you’re a keeper. and I couldn’t be happier that you are the lucky man who gets to say forever to our Megan.
Take care of our girl, Carl, not enough people realize how special she is. I’m glad you did.
Meg, ni shi wo de ai ren. Wo ai ni. (You are my love person*. I love you.)
To Megan and Carl and a lifetime full of happiness and love.
*ai ren or love person is an antiquated term of endearment in Chinese. We heard that term in our Chinese class and loved it. However Lu Lao shi, our Chinese teacher would get grumpy when we would use it because it was so old fashioned to her. Naturally that made us use it more.)
The Secret Life of Pandas 