I find myself back home more often than I would've imagined. I've traveled back to my motherland (maybe traveled isn't the operative word - it takes less than a half an hour, and saying "traveled" makes it seem like I swam the Atlantic or something) every other weekend (I was home last week and am back this week so I guess the pattern's been broke given the holiday). I live for mashed potatoes and gravy and turkey, and upon learning I wouldn't be having a traditional dinner with either sides of my extended family this year, I was initially disappointed. Regardless, I had a good weekend.
Saturday night consisted of going out with a collection of some pretty great people, my good friends from home, as we were advance celebrating two birthdays. The birthday girls got a wee bit intoxicated, and when I say "wee bit," I actually mean staggering around and/or sitting on collapsing tables. The sting of moving away and fully being away from my best friends still hasn't hit me, as in some cases, I've seen some every other week or even more frequently. Nevertheless, it was awesome to be together again (for the most part, save for a few who didn't make it).
Sunday, yesterday, has usually been the more traditional day for the entire dinner production for my family; that, this year, was replaced by a family wedding. It was my mom's cousin's son who got married (I think that's right). My mom's side of the family is so massive that I haven't even attempted to map out who everyone was or how they were related for me; I settle for nodding every time I got the "the last time I saw you, you were so small!" because yes, I doubt I was 6'4 when I was three. I've been to my fair share of family weddings throughout my life, and I always find myself having fun, regardless of how long the ceremony carries on for (can't believe I didn't burst into flames upon entering the church; it was also good thinking that I set my phone to silent as my ringtone is the most religiously appropriate song I can think of, Judas) or how sweaty I become with my shirt tucked in and my belt one notch too tight. The ceremony was very nice, but it was in Armenian, so I twiddled my thumbs waiting for it to be over faster than I would want a regular service to conclude. The reception hall was impressive. The dinner courses carried on for a good three hours to my misfortune given that I had stuffed myself on the bread and was full before the first course. Afterward came the dancing, and I tried my hardest to remain clamped to the table in my seat to avoid having to get up, but I ended up weirdly shifting around the dance floor regardless just to say that I did to my pestering family members. There was an open bar, too, but my drinking was so off and on that I wasn't overly drunk; I'm sure the mixture of the different alcohols would've floored anyone else - I had a good amount of wine and rum and a few beers and tequila shots which I was urged to take with my second cousins - but my spreading it over the night kept me from sitting on tables and having them collapse under me like my aforementioned friend. I wish I could've stayed longer as it was near the end that I got to be around the people more closer to my age (second cousins - all involved in the wedding procedure as the emcees or part of the bridal party, meaning responsibility had to be upheld until the schedule for the reception was complete and the "party" could start), but my family, used to going to bed around 10pm on regular nights, was getting tired and insisted on leaving.
What am I thankful for? That is, after all, the point of the holiday (even though to be honest I've been more concerned with the serving sizes of turkey and mashed potatoes on my plate). Well, I'd say, good friends, good education, good looks (HA), good internet connection here at home so I can download torrents, good TV like Parks & Recreation, and the good Kate Winslet. In all seriousness, though, I really do take a lot of things in my life for granted, and I am thankful for all the positives in my life. I'm thankful for my blog!
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