They forgot to mention that I was buying “wake up early the next morning unable to go back to sleep” beer, and not “sleep until it’s dark out again” beer. I should not be awake yet, and I most certainly should not have been awake three hours ago, after finally stumbling home at around 3:30 in the morning*.
I suppose I did promise to tell you all what Thanksgiving is about nowadays anyway, since I am of course the single unquestionable authority on such matters. But I’m going to cheat you with a quick and dirty answer, because I need to go shopping (ugh). Thanksgiving is about what Christmas is about, minus all the commercialism and the winter imagery, and the mostly irrelevant story about a baby religious nutcase has been replaced by a mostly irrelevant story about a starving group of grownup religious nutcases.
And that leaves us with buying inordinate quantities of food. Cheerio.
*I left the party shortly after 2. Natbusser are great, and all, but they seriously crap out after about 2:30, so I opted to walk halfway home rather than stand shivering in front of the Scottish Pub for forty-five minutes. I’ve taken quite a dislike to the Scottish Pub, actually.