Thanksgiving in Sweden... Twice (part 2)

With one Thanksgiving celebration under my belt now I had confidence.  I knew I could make the food (besides the cornbread) and the friends would be awesome as always.  The (affordable) turkey had been thawing all day Saturday.  It was ready.  I didn't know if I'd be ready though.  My visiting friend would be leaving on Sunday morning.  This meant he wouldn't be at the dinner.  It also meant that I'd have to show him a good time on Saturday night.  I mean, who wants to take a flight NOT tired and hungover?

We went out Saturday and met some friends of mine.  Half the night was spent deciding if we'd go to this other party that was kind of far from city.  With my friends, leaving the comforts of "the city" had better be worth it.  Plus that other party had port-a-potties!  How dare they?!  I wanted to go check out the party (that I had RSVP'd to), but as the night crept on, the comforts of the city felt like the place to be.  My friends would be going to another place that they (not I) had RSVP'd to.  They were sure I'd get in.  I wasn't so certain considering my skin is brown and I have a penis.  In the back of my head the entire time was that damn turkey.  It was after midnight and my bird needed some loving.  I left my old friend in the care of my new friends and caught a taxi.

I had consumed a 5hr Energy earlier, so I was ready to go.  I prepped my turkey and put it in the oven.  I made the other preparations and planning I could while the turkey was going so tomorrow would go smoother than Thursday.  Chef Rollins had some experience now.  I went to bed with a smile on my face.  Tomorrow would be nice.

Sunday morning began with the wild child known as Bash jumping around and screaming like a crazy maniac.  So basically this was a normal day.  The difference between today and Thursday was that there was no daycare to take him to for some peace and quiet.  This struggle was real.  Add in the fact that I was living off of only a few hours of sleep over the past few days and I was in the beginning stages of a painful sadness.  A hopeless frown was on my face as I smelled the delicious greens cooking in the juices of smoked turkey sausages.  I needed a nap.  We all did.  We checked Bash's battery every half hour.  He finally ran out of juice at about noon.  I got some good, deep sleep.

I woke up fresh and ready for Thanksgiving! I smiled as I took in the next whiff of my greens.  Chef Rollins was back in good form!  I powered through the rest of the recipes.  One friend had offered to make a sweet potato pie, so that was one less thing I had to worry about.  Thanks Asabea!  The dinner was at 5pm.  I was glad for that extra preparation time.

Most of the friends that were coming over are not white.  All of them are "too cool" to worry about being at a place when they agree to be there.  I thought this would be different.  This wasn't a club event or a birthday party.  Who's "fashionably late" to dinner?  My friends, that's who.  The earliest guest (he's white) got here fifteen minutes late.  Two of the guests would be coming from Malmö and had already said their train was late, so they had an excuse.  But the other guests?  No text of an excuse or anything.  They just showed up late as hell.  Everyone was finally here at 6pm.

I felt like that partner that gets cheated on, but takes them back every time.  I know they love me and I love them.  I wasn't even annoyed about their tardiness once I saw their beautiful faces.  It didn't bother me one bit that none of them said "Sorry I'm late" or anything of the such.  They just walked in like I gave the time of 5pm but I really meant 6pm.  And they were right!  I did.  I guess that's why we're all so close.  We know each other.  I love my crew.

The dinner was a success.  The vibe was Thanksgiving.  I felt (kinda) bad for the vegetarians because almost every recipe has some type of meat in it.  I mean, what's sweet tea without some good old pork fat?  Poor Cassandra "feasted" on macaroni and cheese and cranberry sauce.  She liked it, though.  At least there was dessert for them.

We all said what we are thankful for and filled the apartment with love.  That's what Thanksgiving is about.  I love my friends and I'm glad we got to share Thanksgiving together.  So take that Uncle Sam.  We took those tax lemons and made the best fucking lemon sweet tea ever!  Until next time...

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