It’s odd how you can feel “holiday” in the air the night before. After I finished cooking, Dean and I went for a walk up Woodstock and the air was chilly but thick with festive anticipation. Despite my grievance with the idea of holidays, I couldn’t help but soak it up. There was an unspoken obligation to be nice to strangers and greet them with a friendly hello. Because we were in the area, I took Dean to the liquor store for the first time. I’ve never seen the line so long. I spent my first thanksgiving in Portland by myself. Well, I had Dean and a bottle of bourbon for company but that was it. It was okay because it was a day off work but I found myself hoping tonight that the people here in line weren’t going to be spending the holidays with their bottles. If that’s what floats their boats, then more power to them but I hope they aren’t drowning their holiday sorrows.
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