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Happy Halloween, everybody!
Alright, so maybe you celebrated your Halloween in late October and now you are preparing for your Thanksgiving feast, but for me, I always celebrate these two holidays in reverse. I mean, isn't it obvious as to why?
You see, for me, I find myself most appreciative and thankful on the holiday everyone calls Halloween when I get to dress up in lavish costumes, get drunk and make out with everyone in sight. Now that is the kind of holiday feast that a boy loves. And let's not forget the candy... Snickers, Peanut M&M's and Almond Joy as far as the eye can see (love the nuts).
But as for the traditional Thanksgiving, everything is thrown out of whack. That is when I am forced to wear mask and hide who I really am: a borderline man-o-rexic vegetarian who doesn't like (or really understand) football.
We Americans have made this annual celebration of the white man's conquest over Native Americans all about filling yourself up with turkey and gravy and mashed potatos and lime-glazed broccoli stems to the point of bursting, then watching men beat each other up trying to score with a piece of pig leather in their hands? Oh boys, if only you knew that there are much easier ways to score, you'd feel so much more liberated... And while I used to love my aunt's famous stuffing recipe growing up, I'm used to get stuffed every other day of the year now anyway.
Really, all I need to make me happy these days is a pumpkin-cranberry muffin and a Caramel Macciato with Soy Milk from the Starbucks on the corner of 15th and Ninth Avenue. Now that is something to be thankful for.
But no, for the past 26 years, I have been living a lie... pretending to enjoy the under-cooked bird while really feeding it to the family dog underneath the table and cheering for the wrong teams all while cooped up around an over-crowded table with nowhere to go as various cousins and uncles and random relatives you last saw at a wedding when you were eight pepper you with questions about what girls you are dating and why you are not married.
Everytime one of them says they have the perfect girl for me, I want to stab them with a javelin.
Hello, Aunt Zelda... I'm GAAAAAAAA-AAAAY!
Some of them actually think I'm dating my straight friend Kiki because, well, that's what I told them last year. I showed them a picture of a girl and some of them heard me talking to her on my cell last year making plans to go out and they just assumed I was straight... My mom calls ans asks about her at least once a week. Actually, shouldn't I be ring shopping at this point? Good thing I know a lot about jewelry that they can't call my bluff... Gotta love the dumb relatives.
I guess you can't ever go homo for the holidays. Though it's not like I really go home for the holiday anyway... You see, growing up in Manhattan and leaving only for a spell in college to attend Oberlin, I have always been close geographically to my parents Upper East Side home. But my West Chelsea life could not be further away on the emotional map.
And what is the deal with everyone making such a big deal about this parade? Want to see a parade? Come down to Christopher Street in late June and see some real excitement. Though unlike the pre-Macy's Parade eve spectacle of blowing up the floats, much of the blowing in our parade in June goes on during the event.
But do I complain? Of course not. For one day a year, I can trick everyone as the good soldier wearing the smile and treating everyone to a show, all so my mother can go on living in her fairy tale fantasy world where all of her children are straight, everyone loves each other and we're all so blessed to be able to be together.
Flip to Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade
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