There is something about that combination that makes me feel sophisticated, classy, like a housewife. And perhaps that is what I was tonight. I planned and cooked and delivered that small Thanksgiving. It was awkward when it came to the words I should speak and introductions and entertainment. But that has to be expected with my personality and charm. It went well though. Everyone attended. Everyone remembered their dish. There was laughter and it all went off like a well oiled machine. And I ate. I sat there in my little flirty apron and ate a proper meal, and I felt like it was Canadian Thanksgiving like I used to have in America. It felt normal. Familiar. Something I have down to a science of some sort. A family holiday I have traditionally had on my own these last chunk of years. I suppose traditions have to be started somehow and I have come to do that on my own as I havent had a chance to live in theirs lately. It was nice though. It was a really nice evening. But there is a clear sense of relief as I take the pearls off and think of slipping into a warm shower. It went well but I am glad it's over.
So why do I feel so fulfilled and yet so empty at the same time?
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