Success.

Thanksgiving was wonderful. So much food and such wonderful friends. And the turkey was great, which was a total relief! Though I needn't have worried. Laurent and I are a pretty stellar team when it comes to kitchen-related endeavors.

Undisputed turkey champions of the world.

After we had eaten, we put some football on (American, of course) and just kind of laid around our living room. At one point, someone suggested games, but that got vetoed because we were all too full to move...which is how you know your Thanksgiving is a success: food-induced lethargy.

It was a lovely evening. I went to bed feeling very blessed.
 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today was Thanksgiving, even though it didn't really feel like it.

I spent the day at work, because apparently England doesn't have anything to be thankful for. I would have much preferred to have spent it surrounded by family members while I ate myself into a food coma, like a true American. But alas.

I settled for this.

Did anyone else spend their Turkey Day at an Irish pub?

Not your traditional Thanksgiving meal, but at least it was tasty and shared with friends. Plus, I still have Saturday to look forward to, when we'll celebrate properly.

Happiest of Thanksgivings to you and yours.

Thanksgiving abroad (round two).

There is a turkey in my refrigerator -- my teeny tiny, shoebox of a refrigerator. I'm not sure how we fit it in there, what with the 5 individuals already sharing the cramped space, but it's there nonetheless.

   

It's there because it's Thanksgiving -- well, almost. Tomorrow is the actual holiday, but as the UK doesn't recognize it and therefore does not give you the day off, we're postponing our celebrations till the weekend. Because as anyone who's ever hosted Thanksgiving dinner can tell you, it's impossible to prepare the kind of feast warranted by this occasion unless you have an entire day to do it.

 

This is my second Thanksgiving abroad. Last year was kind of crazy, because (1) it was my first Thanksgiving away from home, (2) it was the first time I'd ever had to plan a Thanksgiving dinner, and (3) I had never made a turkey before. This year it isn't quite so intimidating, seeing as how it's not all new. Still, I kind of get nervous whenever I open my fridge and see that turkey sitting there, large and imposing, reminding me that I don't really know what I'm doing. But we pulled it off last year, so I'm pretty confident we'll be able to do it again.

 

And, even if nothing else goes right, we'll still have pie. I'm good at pie.

 

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Time travel.

I'm convinced the closest thing we have (and perhaps will ever have) to time travel is music. In seconds, a song can take you back years. There are other things that trigger memories -- sights and smells and such -- but music has this rare ability to transport you back to a particular moment (or even particular people) from your past. 

It might be purely accidental. A song comes on the radio, one you haven't even thought of in ages, and all of the sudden you find yourself back in your hometown, riding in the bed of someone's pickup a couple days after your high school graduation, feeling that this night is somehow incredibly significant -- that soon, people will move and things will change, and that you should try to take it all in because someday in the distant future, you'll want to remember how things were.

And for those three minutes and thirty-four seconds, you do remember. And quite clearly.

Or maybe it's purposeful. You're missing your best friends, so you put on that CD you always used to play in the car when you made your weekly run to Sonic for happy hour, and the memories come flooding back and you can't help but smile as you sing along.

Regardless of how it happens, it happens. And it's a wonderful and incredible thing.

I put this on, for example, and it's suddenly 2006, and I'm getting the longest hug of my life, because we both know that as soon as we let go, one of us will be moving far far away.

  

And this will forever remind me of the summer of 2008 and asking if Penland was open and whether or not we should just go play volleyball at the SLC and order pizza.

 
  

This one (forgive me) makes me laugh, transported back to my graduation from Baylor, and how "the party don't start till I walk in" played as we pulled up to the ceremony.  

 

This makes me think of winter in Illinois -- watching the white slowly pile up against our window while we stayed inside and baked our way through the Snowpocalypse.

 

And this makes me think of dancing spontaneously in the kitchen, but only during the chorus, because once the verse hit we went back to nonchalantly tending to the pots on the stove.

There are so, so many more. And more often than not, they catch me by surprise. Not only that I remember all the words (which, by the way, how is that even possible?) but also how an event that hasn't crossed my mind in years is instantly brought to the forefront, crystal clear, with all the accompanying emotions. It's an incredible thing.

What songs take you back?

 

Wednesday randoms.

Well, I’m back in England, where there is significantly less sunshine. Here are a few Wednesday randoms:

 

The highs here have been around 45 (7ish degrees C), and I’ve been wearing tights and scarves for about two months now. But when I got off the plane in Dallas, there was sunshine galore, and at 85 degrees (30ish degrees C) I instantly realized I was wearing too many clothes for Texas.  

 

The UK changes their clocks back a week earlier than the US. And since I was in the US a week after the time changed, I got to fall back twice this year. Which is fine with me – I can use all the extra time/sleep I can get.

 

With the time change, the sun sets earlier these days. Pretty standard, right? Except here, because we’re so far north, that means that by 4:30pm, the sun is gone. It’s really sad having so little daylight.

I missed out on being in the States for the presidential election by one day. Not that I was particularly heartbroken by this (I’d already voted absentee). Watching even an hour of election coverage at the airport was enough to make me want to run away from all things political.

 

You know how we say “what’s-her-name” when we can’t remember a name? Well here, a lot of people just say “thingy.” As in, “I was just talking to thingy.” It’s not my favorite bit of terminology.

 

Great news! I went to Asda the other day in search of tea, and guess what I found. Cocoa. HERSHEY’S cocoa. I haven’t seen it anywhere else in this country, so that made my day.