Wasted and complacent, and you about the same...

That's not exactly how I feel right now, but I'm very sure that it was just playing (Never as Tired as When I'm Waking Up - LCD Soundsystem) in Caribou Coffee at the Mall of America. They just changed to Feist. That's all right.

Thanksgiving didn't "feel" like Thanksgiving usually does. My brothers stayed in Michigan, we didn't spend a few days putting stuffing and potatoes together, brining a turkey, arguing about cranberry sauce... a lot of very "traditional" (read: white people) things to do around that time, but I love that stuff. It's fine that it didn't feel like Thanksgiving, because it still was. We shouldn't feel anxious or upset because we're growing up and our lives are changing. I fought a throat infection and divided up time between stationary friends, fleeting friends and family. The Koreans, my apartment, my house and the Klumpeens shared Korean-American Thanksgiving together. Carl (more on him later) opened the meal with a brief, episodic and erratic description of the origins of this meal. It was somewhat on-the-spot, though he did hold pages of internet research, and objections, clarifications and otherwise colorful commentary was thrown out.

I wonder how I would feel if they played Christmas music.

The "educating" of the young Korean, Canadian and American students on what a "traditional" Thanksgiving meal "should" consist of evoked some... defensive thoughts in me? I don't think that's the best way to describe it, but there seemed to be a large concession made - maybe even an excuse - to the fact that we were merging Korean food with traditional Thanksgiving food on the same plates.

The girl at the table next to mine (very cute) was patiently sitting Indian-style and humming to herself. I thought that she enjoyed existing anonymously and being surrounded by people too. Her friend just came in, a guy with his unda-pants showing. "That's really funny." He's not funny.

If I were younger, and I think I remember my brothers and I complaining about this at some point, I might have protested the fact that there was rice and kimchi next to my turkey. I was really dumb, and I was born in Michigan. Turkey and kimchi is very tasty, and that's not because turkey is largely flavorless.

Wow. Sometimes you can really/easily tell when people like each other?

I don't know that I should have thought the wordless, uncomfortable thoughts I did but I think I was mildly protesting because, well, who cares?

"I need a new phone. I swear, I'm turning Dutch. I swear. Dutch people never buy ANYthing unless there's a sale." Ha!

Who cares that our table doesn't look like a Norman Rockwell? This is America, Jack. And it's 2009. If you want (or if we wanted) a specific and traditional Thanksgiving dinner, well that's fine, but we didn't. Also, we're Americans. And Canadians. And Koreans. Feasting together because we're alive and thankful and celebrating.

"...this mall is huge." "THIS mall?" It's the Mall of America, dude. Come on.

I partially digress - a large part of Thanksgiving food... of all food events perhaps... is reliving the comforting combination of flavors and textures. Stuffing with lots of sage and caramelized onions, mashed potatoes that taste like potatoes and butter and salt, and so forth.*

"... ... ... ...yeah. This mall is big."

My favorite food-specific part of Thanksgiving is making sandwiches with the remaining turkey carcass the next day. Turkey, even with a great gravy, is largely useless in a sandwich. And I get bored a lot. So I usually add a sauce or glaze or additional preparation to that bland, dry meat before stuffing it in a sandwich of sorts. I'm getting hungry again, though we just toured the food court and, as I've come to find lately, any amount of food we eat completely fills us up. It's unhealthy and odd.

"I don't really have a life... I don't really see my friends anymore because they're busy. Doing college things. Being college-y." She really likes this guy.

I don't think anybody protested the... fusion of cuisine? I think everybody enjoyed both and hopefully noticed some new flavor combinations. "Wow, you really do eat kimchi with everything, huh?" "You bet your tasty freckled ass! Chomp, chomp, chomp." We had a great time. Last year's Thanksgiving involved mom doing Korean food and my cooking American food, which was fun and ambitious and an enormous exercise of bonding. We both put our aprons on and sharpened our knives and shared burners, chopped vegetables etc. Oh I wish we had taken more pictures. And it was delicious, but I know if I weren't there, if nobody specifically asked for a turkey or mashed potatoes or stuffing, that they (the parents) would have invited the Korean students over for Thanksgiving and prepared only Korean food. I would be OK with that. And it's not because my mom doesn't like turkey, potatoes etc. She loves white people food. I'm calling it white people food now, not American food. Which could mean anything. You should see her attack a pot roast. The thing is that she's, mom, is constantly perfecting Korean food and she doesn't bother trying to make white people food all that much (though she is pretty good) because she doesn't really have a frame of reference and, I'd argue, that some white people don't either. Having corn and green beans from a can because you think you're supposed to eat corn and green beans on this day. Gross. Unless, of course, your family grew up eating convenient and canned vegetables and that's what you expect/are comforted by. Go for it. Go crazy. I have some friends who grew up on boxed mashed potatoes and they really love them. We didn't, so it'd be a lie, a useless one, to consume it because some fleeting image of a sprawling national holiday demands it.

I have to pee, which means I have to pack up. And find the bathroom.

Much to continue being thankful for. What did you eat? What did you think of over Thanksgiving?

One more!

"So, what's your major?"

"Exercise science."

Nods. "What's that?"

"It's like... the science of exercise."

*Oxford comma. Did you see that? Yech.