A few years ago, I was fairly anti-Thanksgiving. I know that seems weird, I mean who besides Chandler Bing hates Thanksgiving, what with all the gravy and turkey and cranberries, etc? But yes, I hated it. Hated eating turkey (even though I love turkey), hated going to see family (even though I love my family)... I was pretty thankless.
All in all, my Thanksgivings have always been pretty good, in spite of my poor attitude. My favorite part of the holidays is seeing friends, especially out of town friends, and getting together and drinking. Nothing has changed about that.
This year, I was totally looking forward to the Thanksgiving holiday. I was making dinner, lasagne, and I was excited to have friends and family over to have some drinks in our new and totally awesome basement bar.
My dad was the only person other than Ryan and I to drink in our bar all weekend.
I feel like lately I've been doing a lot of anticipating, only to be let down. I'm not sure why that is. Maybe my expectations are too high (yeah), or maybe I take things too personally (definitely), or maybe I'm just bored too easily these days. It's tough for me to go out to bars, because I have a baby who needs to sleep at a certain time, and people aren't typically fond of babysitting until 2 AM, and I'm not fond of coming home trashed to a baby who needs me. It's a double edged sword sometimes, trying to be a mom and be social. Or anti-social, which is more me.
Last night we were invited to a birthday party for a distant relative of Ryan's. Instead, we thought we'd invite some friends over to drink in our bar. That way, we wouldn't have to worry about leaving our baby anywhere, and we wouldn't have to drive or spend money. All the reasons we built the bar.
Everyone had plans. So Ryan, Lyric and I went out and bought a washer and dryer. On a Saturday night. The last night of my vacation. The vacation that I spent every single night on the couch, with a beer in my hand, watching television.
Could I BE any less interesting?