Thanks for all the fish

Despite mocking its premise incessantly (so you thanked the natives for saving your sorry arses by killing them all the next year? (that said, it isn't as bad as Rape-And-Pillage (Colombus) Day)) Thanksgiving was a bit hit with me. Probably my favourite part of Xmas, other than the awful TV movies and being able to play as many board games as I want is the food, so getting to have a big spread a month in advance seems like a pretty good deal to me. Jen came down for the festivities and after accidentally gatecrashing a party on Wednesday night, we wandered bleary-eyed down to the Macy's parade on Thursday morning, and had a reasonable lunch out of the cold and rain. However, our big dinner plans somewhat fell apart, and at 5:30 (half an hour before the shops closed) seven of us rushed out to cobble together what turned out to be a yummy dinner of sweet potatoes, cheese sauce, broccolli and veg, with lashings of pumkin pie. Jen was a star and cooked despite receiving no warning (and Ed spent over an hour boiling broccolli in my little kettle thing) and we had a great time - dinner nicely complimented by a specially edition Grey's Anatomy. The only problem was the "cranberry sauce" - seriously, the biggest disappointment EVER. It comes in tins, and is one solid, gelutinous mass of yuk. Tastes pretty damn funky too, yuck.

Ah, those famous New York landmarks: The Empire State...

The Statue of Liberty...

That Bloke...


Garfield...

A snowman...

Yarrg! Monster! Just as I was about to start whining about the evils of
McD's (and that's a scary looking mascot if ever I saw one) I realise that
I was at the Macy's parade, which is one big corporate sponsored event. Joy.

Then these guys pitched up, and Jen was quick to point out that
had we been in Alaska, they'd be real reindeer. Show off.

Father Christmas, tempted out a whole month early by capitalism. Woo.

In true holiday tradition, it rained. Lots.

Some hours later, everyone looks on in fear at the idea of my cooking.

Ed proudly displaying his neatly sliced cranberry mush.

I tried to point out that cranberry sauce is not meant to be sliced. It is
not meant to exist in any form where slicing is a possibility. Nor is it
meant to feel like a cold, fleshy, rubbery mass. I can't even describe how
much it is not supposed to taste like it did.

Dishing up...

The thanksgiving crew - Kirsten, Roshni, Ahmed, James, Ed, Jen and Moi

So, in traditional thanksgiving style, I am thankful for the following (in no particular order):

- All the amazing friend's I have made out here, who make New York what it is.
- Not being American, but still getting to have Thanksgiving.
- Jen's cooking
- Trader Joe's
- 24 hour diners
- Fridays off
- Dad and Billie and all my friends and family at home who got me this far
- Chocolate
- Central Park
- Roshni's accent
- Chinese take away
- The fact that I am not a laughing crab
- The fact that where I'm from we have PROPER cranberry sauce.

The list goes on. I would also like to say that I'm really thankful that Jen and I made it home on Friday night after what was perhaps a rather excessive amount of booze. All's well that end's well (sort of) and this didn't do too much damage to a very enjoyable Thanksgiving experience. Havine - yet again - to stay awake all Sunday night to study was more of a problem - why on earth did I schedule every single class for Mondays?