“Friendsgiving” is Stupid. We’ve Been Calling it Second Thanksgiving For Almost a Decade. And We Were There First. #StreamTeam

Thanksgiving is for giving thanks. Not giving friends.

Sheesh.

So I’ve mentioned Second Thanksgiving in the past when I told you about the hematoma on my butt. But I’ve been hearing the term, “friendsgiving,” a lot lately in regards to people throwing these “festive affairs” with cheap wine and instant mashed potatoes. Even the Netflix Stream Team is celebrating a discussion of “friendsgiving.” And people have started calling our 9-year tradition “friendsgiving.”

And I hate that.

friendsgiving is stupid

I hate it because that’s not what it is. It isn’t some hipster tradition that we just started doing in 2012 because we saw our favorite characters on TV celebrate Thanksgiving together as friends for years, but decided it needed a new name because Thanksgiving wasn’t good enough. The only place you can even find a definition of “friendsgiving” is on Urban Dictionary, which basically describes it as a subpar event where friends gather together the day before or the day after Thanksgiving to enjoy either leftovers or boxed wine and cheap dishes.

Did Jess and Schmidt re-name their Thanksgivings “friendsgiving?” No. (Okay, Schmidt may have decided on “bangsgiving” this year, but he’s dirty and ridiculous and it’s not REALLY a thing.)

Did Rory and Loralei head to “friendsgiving” with their people? No.

Did Ted and Marshall call it “friendsgiving?” Nope. (Fine, they had “slapsgiving.” Which was wicked and funny and not trying to MAKE A THING happen).

Go ahead! Celebrate the big Turkey Day with friends. Enjoy it. Watch a few Thanksgiving episodes of your favorite shows. Watch football.

I’ve heard people hosting and attending these “friendsgiving” dinners as early as the beginning of November. I’m sorry, what? That’s called a dinner party. If you’re going to host a Thanksgiving to celebrate with the family that you chose, instead of the family that you’re born into (or stuck with), do it the week of Thanksgiving. Or ON Thanksgiving. Last year, I attended 5 Thankgiving feasts. Five. And not one of them was called, “friendsgiving.” Because it’s stupid. We had work Thanksgiving, Pre-Thanksgiving, two family Thanksgivings and Second Thanksgiving. At all of these events, there was turkey. Ham. Homemade potatoes. Real vegetable dishes. Pie. Nothing was re-purposed leftovers. We made fresh, delicious food for each other. And celebrated a thankful day.

Second Thanksgiving may be a way to enjoy a turkey dinner with the family that you choose, but it’s not a cheap substitute for the real deal. It’s an equal. It’s powerful. No one’s fighting over what time to bring the turkey out. Dirty Uncle Jack isn’t flirting with your girlfriend. Crazy Cousin Maria isn’t drunk and picking fights. Grandma isn’t yelling at the little ones to sit down. It’s just friends. Drinking good wine, expensive beer, liquor-filled jello shots, and eating the best food that each attendee can prepare. We typically host it on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, so we can even watch football as per Thanksgiving tradition.

My college friends and I started Second Thanksgiving after a discussion of our crazy (albeit lovable) families on the holidays. Nine years ago at my best friend’s apartment (the same best friend who’s car I stole a few years ago), back when I used to throw parties at other people’s homes. The first year was a potluck of epic proportions, but the second year became a full turkey dinner because I wasn’t going to have a real Thanksgiving with my family (one day, I’ll tell you about that). And I wanted a real Thanksgiving.

This is a picture of everyone who attended the second annual Second Thanksgiving in my best friend's one-bedroom apartment. While he was in Australia.

This is a picture of everyone who attended the second annual Second Thanksgiving in my best friend’s one-bedroom apartment. While he was in Australia.

For nine years, I’ve hoped to one day host out of my kitchen. This year is the first year that I can host Second Thanksgiving in my own home. All my Clark Griswold dreams are coming true.

So tell me, Blog Friends, do you have a Thanksgiving with your friends? Do you call it “friendsgiving?” If you don’t, what do you call it? Would you have a Thanksgiving with friends?

This post is brought to you by the fine people at Netflix. As a member of the Netflix Stream Team, I was given a free year of Netflix along with some other sweet perks. Prior to joining the Stream Team, I had a Netflix subscription of my own accord. Because Netflix is awesome. And no one paid me to say that. 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

I Accepted the Ice Bucket Challenge. Will You?

While the ice bucket challenge seems like all fun and games with adorable videos from Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner and hilarious videos from Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters, this is a very real cause.

When it first started trickling around my corner of the internet, I wasn’t really sure what was going on, because I saw more negativity than anything else. People bashing it for not being a good campaign.

Except…

Well…it’s a great campaign. You donate money to ALSA. Whether or not you dump a bucket of ice water over your head. You donate money. To a noble cause. This is raising awareness AND money. In my video, I challenged a few bloggers, but here, I am challenging you. Whether you choose to dump a bucket of ice water (or a bucket of water with about 8 ice cubes) over your head or not. I challenge you to go read about ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease). And donate if you have the means. By the way, I have fancy analytics in the back end of this here website, so I know if you’re clicking that link above. So click the link.

ALS Challenge

As I prepared for the challenge, I put ice into the bucket and started filling it with water. And it started getting soapy. So I had to dump it all out and try again.

And again.

And again. Until there was no soap that would go in my eyes…And only a few pieces of ice. But I did it. As far as the sirens going off in the background…I didn’t do it. I swear.

Crazy things I’ve done as mentioned in the video:

Sat in the snow in below zero windchill

Ran into Lake Michigan in the middle of March

Had a cooler of ice water dumped on me

Have you accepted the ice bucket challenge yet? If you haven’t been challenged, consider this your challenge. Will you support ALS research?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Always Read the Fine Print: AKA Wet T-Shirt Contest on the 4th of July

So last year, I told you all about my klutziest sassy-pants 4th of July. As this is a humor blog, and really we need to offer you a few laughs on this fun summer holiday…this year, I thought I’d tell you about my craziest 4th of July.

A few years ago, I was president of my local Jaycees chapter. The Jaycees are a leadership organization that I was really hardcore into for a few years. I even received national recognition (but that’s a story for another day). When I was president, I had a lot of responsibilities.

My chapter ran two huge projects over the course of the year. A haunted house and a summer festival. I didn’t run for president. I fell into the position (more on that another day). But I was a force to reckon with. We had a lot of problems getting the summer festival off the ground, but with a LOT of patience, and news coverage, we  were able to get the show on the road.

One of my jobs, as president, was to sign every. single. contract.

When you’ve got a huge festival with 20 food vendors, 30+ businesses in a business tent, 30+ crafters in an arts & crafts tent, bands, performers and other entertainers…that’s a lot of John Hancocks. Each facet of the fest was controlled by a committee, who would hand me stacks of contracts once a week to sign. As the contracts were all basically the same for each facet, I would read through one of each contract in it’s entirety, then browse every page of every contract for handwritten changes before signing.

One of my committee’s chairmen, though, thought it would be fun to change some of the fine print in ONE of the many contracts. They were responsible for mainstage entertainment, and they added a little extra clause. Of course, they didn’t tell me about said clause until the week of the festival. And showed me where I signed.

Basically, I signed a contract that said I would wear a bikini throughout the course of the fest, serve beer and drinks to the entertainment chairmen in said bikini, and in the event of rain, participate in a wet t-shirt contest.

And so I went to Walmart, bought a stars and stripes bikini, and wore it for 4 days. (I know I’m totally gross.) I bought two beers, walked them over to the chairmen in my bikini, said “here’s your beer,” and walked away.

And yes, friends…it rained for all of 15 minutes. So, after they poured a cooler of ice on me, I also let them do this:

4th of July Contract 4th of July Contract2 4th of July Contract3

I’m working on acquiring the video of the cooler dump, so perhaps I’ll be back with that for you.
Updated: Here’s the video!

Brian and I are headed to a family picnic today. What are you guys doing for the 4th of July?

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!