My Thanksgiving is Perpetual - Thoreau

Dear People Who Love Christmas:

Look. I get it. 

It's the most wonderful time of the year and you get to blast the official Christmas anthem of the civilized world - Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas (Is You).

(Sidebar: Although if you grew up in South Florida, I think we can all agree that the official Christmas anthem is Mi Burrito Sabanero).

The world is awash in buffalo plaid and glitter. The air smells like peppermint and pine and let's not forget that the red cups are coming, the red cups are coming!

You're excited. 

But if you could please pump the brakes just the tiniest bit this year until Friday, November 23 - it would be greatly appreciated. 

For Thanksgiving is my Christmas and I look forward to it more than any other day of the year.

Don't get me wrong. I like Christmas. As much as someone who didn't grow up in a Christian home could. So much so, we went to Germany one year to see the Christkindlmarkts.

Christmas Eve in Nuremberg.
2016

But the season stresses me out a little because there's so much to do - end of the year giving campaigns, gifts to buy, events to attend, cards to make...

Valentine's Day is excellent in theory but always dodgy in execution. It's more about performative romance, over-priced prix fixe menus and chocolate  - always fucking chocolate - desserts than anything else. 

I love July 4th but that holiday is definitely John's domain since dude buys his fireworks wholesale.

(Sidebar: Hi NSA! We're on a list now, aren't we? Yeah. We're on a list) 

But Thanksgiving?

Thanksgiving is the day when you break bread with the people you love and take a moment to express gratitude for everything in your life. 

(Sidebar: Black Friday is trash. Unless they're giving out the cure to RA, I don't need to stand in line at Target at 4:00am)

I grew up in England and didn't discover Thanksgiving until I was 11 years old. I didn't have stuffing until I was like, 19 years old and we didn't have a tradition of hosting a Thanksgiving Dinner until, I don't know...I moved back home when I was 30?

So, Christmas People.

I ask, with a direct plea and an open heart - let me have this.

Let me revel in the scent of apple cider burnished with the warmth of clove and cinnamon. 

Let me watch football and Planes, Trains and Automobiles and that clip of The West Wing where President Bartlet calls the Butterball Hotline.  

From Season 3, Episode 8 of "The West Wing."

Let me send a flurry of emails to my sister, planning the menu for Thanksgiving at the Joshi house isn't turkey and cranberry sauce but rather an Indian feast with palak paneer, samosas, gobi manchurian and that thing that Mom makes with the chickpea-flour battered kale and pomegranate seeds. 

Let me wake up on Thanksgiving morning and take a breath. Marveling in the moment and how lucky I am to be waking up on my favorite holiday, curled up with my boyfriend and my dogs. 

Let me and the rest of the Thanksgiving People have their time and we'll give you the rest of the year.

Hell, I'll even make popcorn and hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps while we watch Die Hard.

Because it is a Christmas movie and Jake Tapper agrees with me and her name is HOLLY fucking Gennaro. I mean, what more do you guys want?

What was I saying?

Oh yeah. Thanksgiving - let's focus on that. 

Sincerely:

Jaime xx