Instead of spending the holiday celebrating a country that doesn't give two shits about me, but expects me to care about it drinking with other pissed of queers like I should be, I am, instead, spending it at the annual family BBQ.
Now, ladies, you know I love my family. I really do. But they are the types of people who I can only take in OMFG SUPER DUPER SMALL DOSES. Especially when it comes to my extended family.
We are talking about an entire day and evening with bunches of OMFG SUPER DUPER RELIGIOUS SOUTHERN BAPTISTS....and me.
And lots of it. Hell, by the time this day is done, all you lucky 'mos who got to spend the holiday partying like normal young, single queers ought to pitch in and get me one of these.
Oughta be enough to keep me in a drunken stupor until I leave this place...or at least preserve my sanity through whatever family time I am forced to endure until then.
Oh well, at least the food will be good!
As will the entertainment, should Dad get drunk and try to use the grill and almost set himself on fire like he did last year.
And hey, let's face it, despite our differences, they are still my family, and this is, quite possibly, the last time I will be in the same state that they are in for a major holiday, ever. As happy as I am about that, it is all so bittersweet, because it really should be different, right? Yup, I know I am right. So, I'll get drunk like good queers do on holidays, eat too much, and, most of all, control my temper and remember how lucky I am to have three living grandparents at the age of 30. Hope you guys have fun doing whatever it is you do. And, oh yeah, to those of you having better holidays than I am...Don't forget my booze,mmmk? Something tells me I'm gonna need it.