Thanksgiving in Second Year

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There are many advantages to being in university and not living in university accommodation. For one thing, being solely responsible for your own wellbeing is enormously liberating. Terrifying, but liberating. For example, if I wanted to, I could eat nothing but cotton candy for breakfast for a week and no one would tell me not to. I don’t do that kind of thing, but I like that it’s an option. I could buy whimsical bed sheets. The possibilities are almost endless.



One of the best things though is definitely the fact that I get to cook for myself. And other people also get the privilege to cook for me too. Which leads me to the story of the day.



I know my family isn’t going to like to hear it but I rarely get homesick when I’m in Scotland. In my more flowery moments, I attribute this to the fact that I appear to have made a home within myself. It’s a bit poetic but the sentiment remains. However, there are certain times of year in which I need my family and I need to be home. Thanksgiving is the main one. Pretty much the only one, if I’m being honest.



Anyway last Thanksgiving , as you may recall, was a particularly stressful one for me: I had my first two essays due and it was Avery’s birthday and I didn’t sleep and it was all just a wee bit crap. It was made less crap by the fact that my friends bought me a cake as a consolation.



They had only known me about a month at this point. That is how amazing these people are. They barely knew me and they bought me a freaking cake because they thought I needed cheering up. Ugh, it’s so sweet I might die.



Which is why I really shouldn’t have been surprised when they outdid themselves exponentially now that they have ovens at their disposal.



I say ‘they’, it was mostly my friend Jess, who is possibly and probably an angel sent from heaven.



She made a mountain of food. Like, I heard a bunch of dwarves were headed to it to reclaim their birthright, that kind of mountain.



I was in charge of dessert and poutine, because it’s not Canadian without poutine, which was mildly redundant because most people also brought dessert.



There was around twenty of us at this dinner and it was sort of not about being thankful for Canada and more about that they wanted to hang out with me, which sounds so unbelievably arrogant and I want to stress that I didn’t ask them to do any of it, it was all Jess’ idea. Because she’s a gift to the world and a joy in my life. They made me make a speech. It was unspeakably adorable- the dinner, not the speech. The speech sucked.



I missed my family, but I realised that I have somehow formed a different one in university. It’s not the same, obviously, but I’ve managed to surround myself almost entirely with good people who love me as much as I love them and I’m not entirely sure what’s going on and I might have accidentally sold my soul in exchange for good friends but I don’t really feel like questioning it right now.



It has occurred to me that this kind of thing may not be normal. I’ve asked and most of my other friends don’t have a one-woman army making them a feast when they’re homesick. I don’t know how, but I’ve struck so lucky in the friends department. I’m positive that I have done nothing to deserve such unwavering kindness in my life, but I am unbelievably grateful for it.



So much of this blog is dedicated to how amazing my friends are and I know you probably want to hear something else but I’ll stop saying it when it stops blowing me away.





If I ever get so arrogant to take these people for granted enough to stop saying it, please cuff me upside the head and tell me to get my head out of my ass.

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