Dallas

So after much hemming and hawing, I’ve finally resigned myself to go to Dallas and be with Dad and Sally for Thanksgiving for the following reasons:

1. None of their other children are going as they will be with in-laws or are pregnant, or are working


2. Sally's not had the easiest year and she's looking forward to hanging out


3. DK's* working - so our annual turkey-fest doesn't exactly fit into his schedule

Let me take a minute to introduce Sally - have you seen the 80s soap opera, 'Dallas'? Well the woman is Sue-Ellen reborn, only strawberry-blonde and perhpas slightly more maternal.


Now really, it’s not that I don’t love these people or want to see them and have lots of turkey with a hefty helping of parental bonding…I just do much better with them one on one rather than as a singular unit.

I predict the bondage…I mean, bond'ing’ will go something like this:

• Sally (Sue Ellen) will pick me up from the airport, tell me I’ve lost weight and then say something along the lines of “only 20 pounds more to go, right?”

• We will arrive at the condo to a barking dog (I will have already begun to miss my cat…) and be greeted with a warm hug by my father, who will be happy to see me. It will be late, dad will open a bottle of wine and Sue Ellen will stay up for a little while and chat before going to bed around midnight but not before she reminds me that I should do the same to prevent dark circles under my eyes



• Dad and I will catch up and chat about everything from music, to history, to the latest political issues of the day. And we will drink until around 3 or 4 a.m. (as is our reunion ritual) until we touch on the subject of family matters such as Princess or pregnancy or the family feud I've created in the past week



• The next morning, we will watch the Macy’s Day parade and I will long to be in New York (not AT the parade but waking up in DK’s* Harlem Loft) where it’s cold outside, where it is urban, where I do not need to borrow a car.



• Thanksgiving is the one time of year when I cook something other than lean cuisine, and my culinary efforts are welcomed and appreciated by DK and his friends. Instead I will be sequestered in condo-hell and forced into culinary slavery in Sue Ellen's kitchen where she will comment on what I choose to eat at dinner and how much.



• Knowing Sue Ellen, ever the social maven, the next day or evening we will inevitably be scheduled to attend some club event, horse race or black tie affair (none of which are entirely unplesant - in theory). However, Sue Ellen will criticize my outfit, ask me to change, disapprove of that, and then whisk me off to the stores the to get me something ‘appropriate’. We will chat in the car and while shopping and she’ll casually mention the benefits of Botox and that maybe I should consider it as “Ya know, darlin," (in a hushed tone) "26 is the age that fine lines start to appear”. But "don't you worry your pretty 'lil head because I know the cutest lil' boutique we could stop at on the way home! And do you know you don't even need an appointment?"

Sorry, don’t feel like injecting my face with toxins, but thanks for thinking of me!

I do not believe there are enough Margaritas in the state of Texas to get me through the pending weekend.




*DK (Drama King) is my little bro, the struggling artist