New Jersey

Thanksgiving Oh Nine was a great many things. It feels as if the world has sped up, and I don’t know how I am going to write today or where to start.

On the way to New Jersey we took the train, it was a long and lumbering affair. I generally like the act of traveling, despite the exhaustion that it entails, as it allows me to think and people-watch. We passed the grim junkyards, unsightly swamps and small cities that seemed to be crumbling before my eyes. I like the feeling of being on a train, staring at the blur of the world going by you, feeling a certain detachment. I began to glance at the people surrounding me on the train, developing fanciful stories of their lives or terrible tragedies based on the creases of their forehead or a sudden smile.

At Penn Station, public transportation was horrendous, as is often the case, and I found myself waiting for our connecting train in the midst of hundreds, if not thousands, of people. For some reason I felt overwhelmed. Everyone was talking on their phones, eating their fast food, and I couldn’t take it. It all seemed so fake, like they were all robots. Not really living. I wanted to crawl into a ball.

Thanksgiving was the best. After building up an appetite playing basketball, we headed in to gorge our stomachs. I should probably mention who this ‘we’ is. My family always stays with the Amato's. I have known their son Max the longest of any friend, and I remember Simon before he was three feet tall. We stay at their grandparents, Sol and Sylvia’s house, and it has the best feeling of warmth and comfort. During the dinner one of the funniest conversation’s of my life arose. We had been talking about teenage slang, but the discourse had shifted towards old 1930’s movies. Upon describing one of her favorite films Sylvia asked the table if we “knew what a geek is?” Naturally we all did, but it turns out our meanings of the word were completely different.

In his slow and deliberate voice Sol read out the definition of a geek.

“A person who swallows live animals, bugs, etc., as a form of entertainment at fairs etc. This often included biting the heads off of chickens.” We all laughed for what seemed like hours. The mood was so infectiously filled with joy and lightness.

Our annual trip into the city was as they say “short but sweet”. We went into stores like Topman and UO that I honestly could have spent every last penny of my money. I restrained myself and bought a purple pair of jeans. The feeling of being in the city never ceases to get to me. Little details fascinate me. Then there are the people themselves. I started writing this post with unrealistic expectations that it would successfully describe my thanksgiving week, but it has come up short. What can you do?

Yesterday my mum left for England to care for my grandfather, and my sister and I braved the train home ourselves. I am sitting in my room right now, responsible for her, my house and just about everything. This is difficult. I am not worried or anything, but its a strange feeling when your house doesn't really feel like home. It is all very lonely.

It will all be fine tomorrow, exciting even. It is just depressing to get home to an empty house when it is dark out.

This evening I was feeling a little frustrated, but then I put on some Frank Sinatra. This week will be fine.