Expat Thanksgiving

It is my first Thanksgiving away from the States and here I am at my computer eating a bowl of Special K. Wait, I think writing that actually made me a little depressed. I have been fine all day, just working and doing the usual and feeling okay knowing that I will be home in California for Christmas. But the truth is, I would give anything to be there now. My brother Aaron just moved home from NYC with his wife Deanna and my two little nieces — so them, my dad and stepmom, my brother Michael, as well as my mom, will all be together this year. That certainly has never happened.

I used to spend Thanksgivings with A and D in New York where they always invited a bunch of randoms who didn't get to go home, to their amazing loft in Williamsburg for a feast made from gourmet recipes, ever-lasting wine and some actual interesting conversation. Because of certain sad events, this time of year has been hard for me in the past, but being at their home always seemed to make things feel right at that moment.

Last year they moved into a smaller place that couldn't quite fit such a motley crew, so I went to my friend Sunny and Scott's for my first Thanksgiving with just friends. It was a night I will always remember: my boyfriend was in New York and had met all my friends for the first time, Sunny cooked up a storm and I felt completely surrounded by people who have made my life what it is. The ones who know me best and who I have so much fun with. I love my friends. I love my family. I am thankful that such love seeps across oceans, through telephone lines and the Internet, and no matter how far away I am, I feel each of them around me on this special day.