Thanksgiving Giblets

I know. Giblets are disgusting. But it sounds cuter than “disjointed moments from yesterday.”

Roll out of bed. Slowly.

Nordic Boy goes to the hippy dippy granola cafe down the street to get us some bagels. The place is notorious for the slowest service around (the staff are all hanging loose, dude) but the baked goods are tasty. Nordic Boy comes back after an entire hour of waiting in the slowest line known to man.
Nordic Boy: The service is so bad in there. No one seems to know what they’re doing. But, it’s Thanksgiving, so I just kept saying to myself, over and over: I’m thankful to the hippies for teaching me patience, I’m thankful for the hippies for teaching me patience.
Me: I’m am so digging that, dude.
Nordic Boy: Yeah, it was far out.
Me: Live in The Now, you know?
Nordic Boy: Totally.

Me: I’m going to take a shower and then figure out what to wear.
Nordic Boy: Wear something comfortable. For all the eating.
Me: You mean, it’s not going to be Spanx-giving for me today?

Hardy har. I makee the jokee.

We set the table and then I decide to make placecards from a Martha Stewart article I found online. Then I notice that the directions say the process will take me three hours. Who the hell is making three-hour placecards? I ditched Martha and made my own design. Piss off, Martha.

Neighbor J, B, and H arrive as does Delium and Jennifer. Wine is uncorked and ceremoniously poured into water glasses. I have no interest whatsoever in owning wine glasses, so our guests have to swill from tumblers. Classy.

Jennifer (to Nordic Boy as he whips up the gravy): So, are you the cook in this house?
Nordic Boy: Oh no. It’s 50-50, pretty much. Evenly split. Yeah, LG helps out all the time.

Total. Bald-faced. Lie.

Little Hannah makes her cute, happy, creaky door noises and thoroughly entertains us all.

Topics of conversation cover everyone’s interests. Neighbor J tells us about fonts and how everyone has a font that is “so them.” She reveals that Nordic Boy and I are “so Futura.” Of course, then everyone wants their font-fortune told. Neighbor B tells us about voice command software developing and we all do our best impressions of voice command robot voices, while saying totally inappropriate things that voice command robots would never say. Delium tells us about zombie movies and the best way to avoid getting one’s brain eaten, which will totally come in handy for some of us some day. Nordic Boy tells us about U-values, and as usual, psyches everyone up to do home improving. I swear if there was such a career as “home improvement motivational speaker,” Nordic Boy would make a hundred jillion dollars at it. When he preaches the gospel of energy efficiency, people start to say amen and get out of their seats to start home improving.

This story is revisited and everyone’s gut is busted all over again.

Pie and ice cream is consumed, games are played, stories are told, love is felt.

Back to bed as frost sparkles on the windows, my throat aching from the belly laughs. The full, full belly laughs.

I’m out,
Librarian Girl


  1. We don’t have the Thanksgiving thang over here, but I reckon I could get into a whole day of eating! Sounds like a most excellent holiday weekend was had by all :o)

  2. Aww, your thanksgiving sounded lovely (and what fantastic party guests!) Also, I had to google Futura and according to wikipedia, “Futura has an appearance of efficiency and forwardness” which is probably why you didn’t go with Martha’s pokey methods! (good for you I say)

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