driving on the expressways on thanksgiving- or even christmas or easter- is like driving in a bizarro, alternative universe that is populated solely by the elderly or other elderly-like people who, for all intents and purposes, only leave their homes on major holidays. the roadways are filled not with the confident, lane-swerving, speed monsters of the normal 9-5 commute but these other timid creatures. they are white haired and nervous in their like-new, garage protected 1989 buicks, and you can spot them and their legions from miles away as they cautiously flick on their blinker and switch lanes a full two minutes later, as they dare to accelerate to a whole 45 mph once they maneuver their way into the left hand lane, and as they come to a near complete stop right before their exit, maps to the grandkid's house unfolded and trembling on the dirt-free dashboard. it really is a sight to behold; thankfully, though, it is a sight that occurs infrequently in nature- only on the aforementioned holidays.

i drove down to my parents house in the morning, stuffed my face with the kind of meal where every dish includes either a heaping portion of meat or cheese, and then loaded my blulging waistline into the car, where i drove back up to my apartment. then, chris got home from work, and we climbed into his car, where we hopped on yet another expressway and made our way to his aunt's veritable mansion out past the new outlet mall that i have yet to visit. (outlet mall, people! that's latin for who-cares-if-they-spelled-calvin-klein-with-two-k's-it's-only-ten-bucks!) there, i had a small side salad, noted how creepy chris' uncle's brother is, and drank two generous glasses of red wine. the wine stained my teeth; i did not smile or talk for the remainder of the evening. then we found our way back to the expressway and ended up taking a ridiculous long-cut that involved strangely named streets and towns. how i miss those aimless car rides of my youth, those gas guzzling, pointless drives out to nowhere during a period of my life when my friends and i were too young to get into bars and too old to feel content just sitting in somebody's living room. if only aimee mann or sarah mclachlin or tori amos had been on the radio- that would have really taken me back.

when we got home, finally, i decided that i was thankful for everything.