Disclaimer: While parts of these are realistic, most of this is in no way based in reality.
Thanksgiving
Expectation: The turkey sizzles submissively in the oven. Everyone is chatting happily. There are no discussions of politics, religion, money, current relationships or past relationships. The stuffed mushrooms are generously filled with breadcrumbs and butter. There are several chess games going on. Perhaps there will be a social deduction game later like werewolf?
Reality: Mom wrangles the turkey out of the oven with significant force. “Is it done yet?” she whispered urgently to Dad through gritted teeth. Dad checks for the third time. My aunt is grilling my cousin about his future plans (Harvard or Yale. Harvard is a bit pretentious, is it) while my other cousin vapes marijuana in the corner. The baby pulls the cat’s tail. “C-a-t” glows her mother as the cat winces in pain.
Christmas
Expectation: We all pass our presents around the room. Mine are shabbily wrapped but all my aunts and cousins adore the hard work I put into my homemade gifts. I start unwrapping my presents. A songbook, a Winnie the Pooh onesie, a Sign Language workbook. Everything I had asked for. My cousin sits at the piano and soon we are all immersed in Christmas carols, the sound of the season.
Reality: My dad sniffles and my mom passes the tissue box. My brother coughs feebly. For Christmas we caught Co-vid, the gift that keeps on giving.
Vacation
Expectation: I lie on a beach chair tanning my legs in a bikini I totally fit in to. My dad and mom have gone for a romantic canoe trip around the leg, admiring the other cabins and comparing them to ours. My brother is playing around with the tackle box. Tonight he and my dad will actually catch a fish longer than six inches. I had plans on reading a book but for now I just want to close my eyes and enjoy the sun (plus I remembered sunscreen).
Reality: We are lost. We are trying to find our cabin and we are so lost. It is dark. It is raining. We have been parked in a random parking lot for fifteen minutes arguing over what the address was and when we can get food (okay that might have been me). Then there was a rapping on the car window. It was a man. And he had a gun. “Roll down all the windows please” he said politely. Okay this is how I got murdered on summer vacation.
Your 21st birthday party
Expectations: “Shots! Shots! Shots!” chorus your three closest friends as you gulp back shots of chocolate vodka. Everyone is clearly enjoying themselves and you have a nice buzz but you’re no way close to doing anything embarrassing like throwing up or kissing someone who isn’t your boyfriend. You’re in a killer dress showing off your “giant rack” (which your best friend described in the birthday poem she wrote for you). In the living room of your college apartment there is Twister and in the kitchen there is King’s Cup. You go back and forth between both. It ends with fabulous drunk sex between you and boyfriend and alcohol sticking to every inch of the apartment. It is gone by morning.
Reality: “Guys could we keep the music down? It’s a little loud” You are stone cold sober (two years sober actually) but you wanted a rocking 21st birthday and this is what you got. About thirty people crammed in your college apartment. You could get busted for social hosting any minute because this music is So. Damn. Loud. But every time you lower it someone turns it back up. Just then there is a collective gasp. Someone has thrown up on the couch.
Tinder date
Expectations: I would have gone on Tinder sooner if I knew I’d find my soul mate. Is there anything we don’t have in common? (well, of course there are some things. You know. To keep things interesting). He’s tall, dark and handsome. He paid for my meal. He didn’t flirt with the waitress. After dinner we didn’t want to let go of each other so we walked around town with pumpkin spiced lattes holding hands.
Reality: I am never dating someone off Tinder again. He was late, he blatantly checked out the waitress’s ass and he stuck me with the majority of the bill. He lied about his height and his pictures had to have been altered. When I asked for the dessert menu he looked put off and said as though I had just admitted to eating hamsters “Girls aren’t supposed to eat dessert” Then he caught a ride with his “homies” and left me to grab an Uber.
Pool Party
Expectations: “Canonball” you call as you plunge over the diving board. You feel perfectly comfortable in a swimsuit, comfortable enough to get up in front of everyone and get on the diving board. All the other girls at the party squealed as a wave washed over them. You didn’t even know them before the party and now you’re like, best friends. Your boyfriend swims right over and kisses you on the mouth. “Awww” everyone coos. The sunlight hits the water perfectly making it the right temperature. You can see your toes wiggling under the water, skimming the edge of the pool. Beautiful summers day.
Reality: The water is freezing and the storm clouds are gathering. Everyone is bobbing awkwardly, not really talking to each other. My suti doesn’t fit, it’s too tight, why the fuck did I wear this thing? My boyfriend looks bored until a girl walks by and he does a double take. “Whoa!” he says. I storm out of the pool just as I hear the first peal of thunder.
These were actually really really fun to do. What should I do next? Let me know in the comments. Oh and happy happy holidays!
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