8 Hours

I thought living in NYC would mean I'd be closer to home. Turns out, the difference between NYC and France is but a few hours travel time. That's right - it took me 8 hours to get home (and to get back, for that matter).

Holidays are always fun for me. I always have a good time and enjoy seeing my family. However, I find myself unusually exhausted this time around. Sure, part of it is the traveling, but I was also introduced to something I will call the "Oxygen Overload Syndrome."

Apparently when you go from a city (or a place with high pollution) to a small town (a place of lesser pollution) your body gets more oxygen with every breath of fresh air, and therefore becomes very sleepy for the first day or two upon your arrival. This effect on top of the chemicals in turkey (and let us not forget the traveling!) made for a very sleepy weekend. Strangely enough, this sluggish stupor induced by oxygen overload also prompted my grandmother to ask if I was depressed with my life. Oh, family.

This Thanksgiving I had much to be thankful for as far as meals are concerned. My family has an overabundance of food in the house, but it is labor intensive or unappealing. Our cabinets are brimming to overflowing with flour, cherry pie filling and stewed tomatoes, but really what meal can you make with those ingredients? My point is, we always seem to have tons of food but never anything to eat, if you know what I mean.

I was a bit worried about meals all weekend long. I mean, I knew Thanksgiving was covered, but my dietary future after that night was unsure. Well, thank goodness for the Masons! They had not one but TWO meals - a ham dinner and an amazing pancake breakfast. Delicious - and perfect timing!

I am glad to be back in my apartment, though... with my grits. ;-)