Haylee Carlyle

Home For The Holidays It is Thursday evening. An evening I would typically spend on bed (Not in! On!) like, watching the entirety of Riverdale for the third time on my laptop, no TV, or flipping between app notifications or talking on the phone like a fake millennial to a guy I like across the country, like a real millennial. But this Thursday is Thanksgiving, a beloved American tradition of celebrating colonialism and genocide. And to be real, since undergrad, where I like most of us became a real lucid person, I don’t care about Thanksgiving! I don’t care! Do I get sad about the carbs I’m missing out on? Do I miss drinking Shiner out of a bottle, not a can, in a backyard in Texas because you can do that there in November? Yeah! I do. I do. But as a broke-ass person who cannot afford the $400 plane ticket home, I am staying in Boston. Last night, I had the thought that I should scoop up an Italian Express pizza so I could gorge on the leftovers for the holiday because I am absolutely not going to cook. But I didn’t. My bad. Browsing Uber Eats and Postmates, literally nothing but the Wendy’s in Back Bay is accepting orders, which I’m not terribly mad at. Because all I really want right now is a touch of comfort and familiarity, and a fast-food chain restaurant is one of the most Texas things I can think of. And I really want to dip roughly 100 fries into a chocolate frosty. So did I order Wendy’s on Thanksgiving? Yes. Did Postmates wait 45 minutes after I placed my order to cancel it? Did I immediately make the same order again for it to be canceled? Again? Yes, yes, yes. But I resign. The app gives me $15 in credit and I already decide to use it tomorrow to order Chili’s, another southern suburban staple. *Frasier voice​* What ​is ​a bitch to do? Why, make a quesadilla of course. If I don’t have tortillas and cheese in my kitchen at any point, there is something wrong and someone should do a wellness check. But I can’t simply eat a quesadilla. Not on Thanksgiving or whatever! And while I am not much of a cook, I love baking. Throw everything in a bowl and put it in the oven? Very my style. And as unprepared as I am for this “”holiday”” I did have the foresight to know I would want chocolate. And from-scratch brownies are an extremely easy thing to make, so I have the ingredients for these​ ​red velvet cheesecake brownies​ I’ve been making for years. That’s what I said, you guys: quesadillas and brownies. And you know, I am actually going to have to do this all over again on Christmas. Thankfully, Sam will be here and she is extremely a Christmas person so we’ll likely do a better job of being full entire people on that day. And yeah, I’m kinda bummed about that one. I miss my friends back home so badly I wonder if I’ll ever spend another New Years or birthday with them again. I get into a k hole of daydreams imagining that I will. But if I have to be anywhere else on these days that to me mean being good to yourself and people who love you and politically correct strangers and dogs, I’m thanking the universe for letting it be Boston. This city has cradled me in its arms since I got here. It has absolutely infuriated me and knocked me on my ass but I’ve made forever friends in minutes and those loud obnoxious fights that happen in downtown crosswalks are actually really hilarious to witness in person. So cheers, you armpit city. May your snow sparkle before it grays.