sistawendy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sistawendy) wrote2021-11-26 05:02 pm
sistawendy) wrote2021-11-26 05:02 pm
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We now return you to your regularly scheduled Thanksgiving.
It all started with a change in the guest list: the coven accepted my invitation early on, and La Fashionista told me she'd bring a date, and La F's ex R had other plans. Since six is a crowd here in the Devil Girl pad, I regretfully told a couple of usual guests that I didn't have room, but I invited bork, who's another usual suspect.
But then I found out that R's plans fell through. What I said to La Fashionista was, "Arg! [...] Six is a tight fit. If he's coming alone, it's cool." Everyone involved knows what this place is like with six people inside: a sardine scene. Even five is pretty snug. I assumed that R was showing up regardless. He did not. I was relieved, to tell you the truth.
Oh: my bathroom light switch stopped turning on just hours before the start of dinner. But I'm a Burner chick, and therefore I have LED camping lanterns. Time for the maintenance request mambo.
So! I made stuffing and got the bird in the oven. And then people started showing up. La Fashionista's date J looked fabulous in what I must say is the most revealing outfit I've ever seen at a Thanksgiving dinner. Legs for days, as they'd say in London. Not that I mind, and I find J perfectly charming and nun-approved. La F, J, and of course yours truly gothed it up. Tacoma Girl was true to her punk rock self in a wacky sweater.bork was, well, bork, complete with a tale of witnessing an assault in the ID on the way here. I never thought I'd hear him speak well of the police.
Eats got eated! I really should have asked somebody to bring a veggie, but aside from that, everything was right on. Tacoma Girl's sweet potatoes and intensely garlicky mash were, in my opinion, the stars of the meal. I did not mess up the turkey, but it took me a while to get that confirmed.
I got up around 0300 this morning to barf. Terrified that I'd poisoned all my guests with turkey undercooked despite the use of a thermometer, I texted the coven. They checked in: I'd only managed to poison myself with excessive post-dinner grazing. I don't recall ever barfing from just eating too much before. Moral: don't do that again.
All in all, though, I declare that Goth Friendsgiving, a torch passed fromcupcake_goth to jengalicious to me, is relit, small as it may be now.
Oh, tonight's plan? The Monkey Loft. Funny Lady bailed on me because she has a cold. K has other plans. The Tickler has anxiety. How to find a good home for that second ticket? Time to start pinging raver chums for the next couple of hours.
bork, who's another usual suspect.But then I found out that R's plans fell through. What I said to La Fashionista was, "Arg! [...] Six is a tight fit. If he's coming alone, it's cool." Everyone involved knows what this place is like with six people inside: a sardine scene. Even five is pretty snug. I assumed that R was showing up regardless. He did not. I was relieved, to tell you the truth.
Oh: my bathroom light switch stopped turning on just hours before the start of dinner. But I'm a Burner chick, and therefore I have LED camping lanterns. Time for the maintenance request mambo.
So! I made stuffing and got the bird in the oven. And then people started showing up. La Fashionista's date J looked fabulous in what I must say is the most revealing outfit I've ever seen at a Thanksgiving dinner. Legs for days, as they'd say in London. Not that I mind, and I find J perfectly charming and nun-approved. La F, J, and of course yours truly gothed it up. Tacoma Girl was true to her punk rock self in a wacky sweater.
bork was, well, bork, complete with a tale of witnessing an assault in the ID on the way here. I never thought I'd hear him speak well of the police.Eats got eated! I really should have asked somebody to bring a veggie, but aside from that, everything was right on. Tacoma Girl's sweet potatoes and intensely garlicky mash were, in my opinion, the stars of the meal. I did not mess up the turkey, but it took me a while to get that confirmed.
I got up around 0300 this morning to barf. Terrified that I'd poisoned all my guests with turkey undercooked despite the use of a thermometer, I texted the coven. They checked in: I'd only managed to poison myself with excessive post-dinner grazing. I don't recall ever barfing from just eating too much before. Moral: don't do that again.
All in all, though, I declare that Goth Friendsgiving, a torch passed from
cupcake_goth to jengalicious to me, is relit, small as it may be now.Oh, tonight's plan? The Monkey Loft. Funny Lady bailed on me because she has a cold. K has other plans. The Tickler has anxiety. How to find a good home for that second ticket? Time to start pinging raver chums for the next couple of hours.
no subject
I've lived here (Canada) long enough to feel completely disconnected to US Thanksgiving. Previously, as an American, whenever I was out of the US, Thanksgiving was the Most American Feeling of holidays, even more than July 4th.
Canadian Thanksgiving is early October, but is only "celebrated" as being a day off from work, not otherwise anything special.
no subject
I also did not get sick.
Thank you again for hosting.