Sofa king glad that’s over. It’s not easy looking at facebook pictures of a certain someone celebrating Christmas with his family, while I sit with mine and watch back-to-back episodes of Mad Men and contemplate how long is too long to wait for my next shower. I decided this was a perfect opportunity to get completely inebriated and have therefore been more or less drunk since Christmas Eve (I thought it would be in my best interest to wait until after church services to get the celebration underway). Bless his heart, but it didn’t help that my father greeted me with, “hey did you hear so-and-so (a childhood friend of mine) is getting engaged??” Yup—not necessary to be lucid today. In my drunken stupor, I even managed to force down some mussels at the dinner table despite the fact that 1) I’m a vegetarian and try to limit my fish consumption, and 2) I hate the consistency of the slimy flesh found in most shellfish (shudder).
I love my family to pieces and would most certainly be in a great deal of hurt if I didn’t have them to help me through. It’s impossible not to laugh in this house. Between my mother and her German accent telling me she didn’t enjoy the movie “Bill Kill” and the mounds of dust bunnies that reside in my now-abandoned childhood bedroom to my brother defying all rules of fashion at church, I was pleasantly surprised by how little I ventured to that dark and sad place. But it came to find me in quiet lulls throughout the day anyway. The nagging feeling that somewhere in New Jersey, a house was filled with laughter, the smells of home cooking, and the person I wanted to travel the world with. I wondered if anyone asked him how I was doing or if they simply gave him sympathetic looks at the dinner table and filled up his plate (the cure for anything in an Italian household is always more food, I’ve learned over the years).