Why Your Friendsgiving Is Always Better Than Your Thanksgiving
It's all gravy…
Thanksgiving is a time we relish spending with family and giving thanks.
While we all enjoy the traditional Thursday dinner filled with distant relatives and mom's homemade mashed potatoes, there will come a time when you either can't make the one at home or decide that you want to sit around a big table and give thanks with people who are another type of family.
If Thanksgiving is like yams, your Friendsgiving is like those sweet potatoes your aunt makes with the the marshmallows and sugary syrup. The classic is healthy and warm, but the new dish is one that just tastes so damn good.
It's a celebration with people you consider another type of family to you, maybe even a closer family. It's the best holiday of the year, celebrated with people who you really want to be celebrating with.
While Thanksgiving is a great time to see family and catch up, it can also be a great time to make some homemade memories with your friends.
Because a Friendsgiving is so much more than just expensive dish-ware and 18 pound turkeys… It's boxed wine, instant mashed and one too many stories; it's laughing until you fall out of your chair and fighting over who does a better moon walk.
It's eating on plastic plates and sitting on dirty floors. It's the TV on in the background or the playlist attached to so many memories.
It's spending the night with people who love you, where the food isn't the center of attention, but the people sitting around it. Because at this Thanksgiving, there really are no forks given.
The food is sh*tty, but the company is great.
It may not beat your mom's mashed potatoes, but the conversation far outreaches those with your uncle.
You don't have a real table, but you're happy to sit on the floor.
It's the quality of the people in the chairs, not the other way around.
There are no decorations, but there's definitely tree.
There may be no traditional Christmas tree going up after everyone's finished the turkey, but there's definitely another type of tree to light up.
There may not be one expensive wine, but there's a lot of cheap ones.
One of the few times when quantity over quality really does win out.
There's no drunk uncle, just your drunk friends.
Drinking too much and starting a dance party to Adam Levine just isn't the same when no one knows that Adam Levine isn't a woman…
There are no questions about being single, just stories about why.
Only with your friends can you actually talk about the real reasons you're single and how you're getting through your dry spells.
There are no screaming arguments, just drunk ones.
There are no fights over why you dyed your hair blue or the new nose ring you had to get two weeks earlier, but rather, who has a better Robert De Niro impersonation.
No embarrassing questions, just reminiscing about embarrassing moments.
You don't have to fear the inevitable awkward questions, but definitely be prepared to rehash those drunk moments that will make you shrink in your seat from laughter rather than shame.
Your cutlery might be fake, but your connections aren't.
If only Thanksgiving with your family included people you considered to be the “best in the world.”
Instead, it's awkward dinner conversations with cousins you haven't talked to since last time you cut the turkey.
You might not have leftovers, but you'll have memories.
There may not be those highly anticipated turkey sandwiches tomorrow, but there are memories that won't be flushed down the toilet within the next two days.
There's no small talk, just real talk.
No uncomfortable chats with your aunt, no pleasantries with the grandparents and no sugarcoating stories to make them PG for your boring younger cousins.
It's riveting conversations with people who, for once, have better stories than your own.
There are no fancy desserts, just perfect endings.
There might not be gourmet cakes and pies, but there's definitely sweeter moments throughout the night. You don't need to wait for dessert to get that sugar rush; you've been on a high since the meal started.