Thanksgiving, a first-person account re: the awesomness of being home for the holidays...

long post. i realize there are some boring parts. here's a quickly written summary of what I did last week. here goes:

Last Monday
I get on a plane at 9:30pm PST. Little do I know that I will get no sleep on this plane. The crying babies I understand. Babies cry. As for things I don’t understand: Exhibit A: The girl in the seat in front of me (I can hear the electronica blasting from her headphones), who kept the overhead light on and dancing around in her seat to whatever she was listening to (I mean, maybe it’d be understandable if she was a hipster listening to the Arcade Fire); sweat pouring down her head; Did she get on the wrong plane? We’re not flying to Ibiza, Ms. Sweaty. Is the red eye flight to New York the right time to take drugs and have a personal rave? Seems that way... Exhibit 2: The woman next to me had some sort of gastric distress/digestive malfunction so had to climb over me (I had the aisle seat) repeatedly to get to the bathroom. I offered to switch seats to make it easier but she said she didn’t want to me too much of a pain. Ms. Stomachache, thanks. I really enjoyed that knee to the crotch when you were heading to the toilet for the umpteenth time... But don’t worry. I’m glad I didn’t sleep or else I would have missed the awesomeness of the cheeseball/mizootch/scumbag across the row from me. This guy is in his mid 30’s and he’s trying to impress the teenage girl sitting next to him by telling her about the period in his life when he dated Jenna Jameson.
Him: I dated Jenna Jameson for awhile. Do you know who that is?
Her: No. I don’t.
(Note: I could see this wasn’t going to go well)
Him: Jenna Jameson is the biggest porn star in the world.

I’m sorta tired at this point so don’t recall specifics but Scumbag goes into what a great person Jenna Jameson is, how she really loves her family and is such a good person. 18yearoldgirl doesn’t look to impressed, but Scumbag kept talking. He then says, “Her movies don’t do it for me. I mean, I dated her.” Getting off the plane, Scumbag tells 18yearoldgirl that he can give her a ride into the city so she doesn’t have to “waste” money on a cab. Grossed out by Scumbag, I’m happy to get off the plane...

Tuesday
5:28am - The airplane lands at JFK Airport. I haven’t slept because of all the theatrics. Am I upset? No fuckin’ way! I’m back on the East Coast! I go to baggage claim and get my suitcase. I head to the AirTrain which links to the A Train. The Airtrain is nice and carpeted; filled with lots of sleepy folk. On the A Train, I looked up and saw a Dr. Zizmor ad. Good to see you Dr. Z. I get off the West 4th Street stop and head up Waverly Place to the old apartment.
7am- I buzz up and Martha lets me in. Paul is still sleeping. I kick open his door and wake him up gently by yelling some acapella “Welcome to the Jungle”. He tells me I woke him up. This makes me laugh, as I’m well aware that I woke him up.
8:30am - Paul, Martha, Jake and I all sit down at Balthazar for breakfast. (Steak Frites is not on the breakfast menu) The omelette is good although devoid of the herbs referred to in the menu. It’s great to see all of them.
10:00am - Virgin Megastore. Looking for a good soul compilation with “Soul Finger” on it proves difficult. I buy the Death Cab for Cutie album with the crow and red string on the cover. Listened to it later that day. Opinion: The lyrics are really good in parts, ‘though a little too proud of being insightful... Um, I don’t know what that means... The album’s okay.
11am - Hang with Andrew at his office. Have an amazing time. He definitely inspires me to keep aspiring towards my goals (writing and directing a movie, being picked 1st in the NBA draft, etc.)
Noon - I go back to my old office and have lunch at PJ Clarke’s with Elizabeth and Kevin. It’s great to see everyone I used to work with. Really nice crew. Really enjoyed getting to catch up with Scott, my old supervisor. The chicken pot pie at PJ Clarke’s is enormous and it’s probably one of the best ways in the world to burn the inside of your mouth.
2-5pm- I hang out at Paul’s office with all his friends (Molly, Allison, etc.) They rock. Feel like I’m being a goofball and am stopping people from getting work done. Hang out with PK a little, but the real PK awesomeness comes in on Wednesday. Bored at one point, I wrote MC Nuggets lyrics on post-it notes and hid them around Paul’s workspace.
7pm - Bonnie and I go out for Sangria at Symposium on 113th.
7:30pm - Meet up with my parents on 114th and get a ride home to Connecticut. At this point, I haven't slept since Sunday night. I've been acting silly all day but nobody seems to mind.

Wednesday:
Morning: I sleep in. Head into Westport and have Fortuna’s for lunch. Chicken Parm for President! I’m glad I don’t eat crap like this in L.A. In any case, it’s delicious.
Afternoon: I jump on a train into the city.
5:30pm - See my cousin’s new baby at a baby naming ceremony. Sit down and talk to my dad’s mother for awhile. Try to explain what L.A. is like. I lie and tell her that I have a girlfriend in L.A. just to escape.her asking me if I’m not gay (readers: I’m not gay, just girlfriendless).
7pm - Izzy and I meet up on the Upper West Side. We meet up with PK, Paul, Wicker and C. They’re ahead of us in the drinks department, but Izzy and I do what we can to catch up. We walk over to see the balloons. C tries to take a photo of us with her PalmPilot and drops the stylus/pointer. Looking for the stylus on the ground amongst fallen leaves was very amusing (probably because I had a few drinks in me). PK spun around and said his catchphrase of the night to some kid walking by: “Highfive for Super Grover”. Paul and PK chant for Barney the Dinosaur. Then of course, there was my embarrassing faux pas of the evening. We’re walking east on the south side of the Museum of Natural History, looking at the balloons. I see a balloon coming up with a brown head (it’s a figure lying down and I can’t see the face). Maybe it was the booze; Maybe it was just me trying too early to guess which balloon it was; In any case, I pegged the balloon (out loud) as “Curious George”. As we approached the balloon, Izzy pointed out for me that the brown faced balloon had no tail, and was in fact, Little Bill, an animated african american character from a cartoon on Nickelodeon. In any case, nothing like accidentally being offensive when drunk. We walk up to the Fox News fan and "thank" them for 4 more years of Bush. They seem frightened by us. Which is good. Thanks a lot Fox News. The person who should've won couldn't have lost without your help.
10pm-Balloon Crew and I head to Racoon Lodge, as promised. It’s unfortunately not karaoke night like last year (when Paul and I saw characters out of a David Lynch film sing scary karaoke). The place is packed. There is beer and other drinks. I take a shot with some girl I don’t know. It’s the night before Thanksgiving. Nobody has work the next day. So the bars are packed. The jukebox has Midnite Vultures on it. Do Paul and I belt out “Debra” at the top of our lungs? Do we ever. As expected, every woman in the bar is suddenly in love with me and Paul. Um. Or maybe they’re just happy that Paul and I are no longer attacking their eardrums with our shrill cracked falsetto..
11:30 - Izzy and I sit down for a slice of Pizza at a Ray’s on the upper west side. I jump in a cab and head to Grand Central.
12:20: I’m on the train to Connecticut.
1:45: I take a cab home.

Thanksgiving Thursday:
10am - I wake up and get get ready.
Noon - We meet up with my mom’s siblings and their kids at a diner for lunch.
Afternoon - I hang out with my grandmother (mom’s mother) and my sisters.
5pm - The meal. Everyone wants to hear about California. Makes me realize how much I’m enjoying myself on the west coast. It was really great to see everyone and I just begin to realize how good it is to be home.

Friday
On Friday night, I met up with Adam. He’s been living in Cincinatti since high school, and I don’t get to see him that often. (He put me and Alex up in his giant loft when we were doing our cross-country move). In any case, he had friends all over Connecticut having parties. So we jumped in the car and headed to our first stop, an Irish bar in Stamford. I don’t like Stamford for a number of reasons, the largest being that I went to middle school there and always feel like I’m gonna turn around and the kid who bullied me in sixth grade is going to show up and try to pick a fight. In any case, there are no fights with ex-bullies. There are however two girls talking to me and Adam. The one talking to me says, “What’s your name? Just so one day if you’re famous, I can say I met you?” I’ve heard this a few times in my life, and each time it makes me question whether I’ll ever be successful in the film industry... I dunno... I’m neurotic. The girls were very nice(the one talking to me was really into Lars Von Trier; Luckily I didn’t start talking about Bresson)... It was getting late. Adam tells an embarrassing story about what something I did in high school. The girls are surpisingly amused by the tale of my drunken debauchery circa Winter '96. Adam and I bolt to a bar in Westport called Dunville’s (it’s off Exit 17 on I-95). The only great thing about this place is that there’s an electric train going around the place. That’s it. It’s like a frat party but with people in their 30’s and 40’s. A bunch of Weston high school kids are hanging out there. I’m feeling like the only designated driver in the place. Drunks abound. A girl I went to high school with is helped out the door.
2am - Adam and I go to the Athena Diner. Some girl walks over to the guy seated behind us and goes: “How was your Thanksgiving? Did you have turkey?” Adam doesn’t know these people but answers out loud, “Of course he had turkey. It’s Thanksgiving. Why do people ask questions like that.” Either they don’t hear us or ignore us. The waitress approaches. She has quite a few band-aids on her fingers. Maybe she mistook a cheese grater for bongos... Anyway,I order an omelette. Adam goes for stuffed grape leaves, corned beef hash, and an egg cream. When he complains afterwards about a stomachache, I tell him that it’s his own fault. It was great to see him and hopefully I’ll see him when I’m home right before Christmas.

Saturday
I get sad on Saturday morning ‘cause I know I’m leaving and I already miss my family before I go. I drive to the post office and send some boxes of stuff to my house in L.A. My dad and sisters drive me to the airport, which is really nice of them.

It’s Saturday Night. i’m on the airplane heading back to Los Angeles. Sort of paranoid about people reading this over my shoulder as I write this. It’s not like anything super-confessional. Watching VH1 Classic (I’m on Jet Blue) and George Michael’s Freedom ‘90 is playing. One of my favorite videos. I mean, aside from the models singing a super catchy song, it’s got George Michael’s leather jacket going up in flames just from the awesomeness from the song. I say awesome way too much these days, but really... awesome video. I also saw the Wham “Wake me up before you Go Go” video on the flight to the east coast. That video isn’t as awesome, unless you like George Michael in short shorts and a video that feels like it was shot at Club Med. (I love Club Med. Anyone wanna go sometime this winter? Hands up?) A guitar explodes in the Freedom video, but that’s not too amazing, ‘cause sometimes guitars just explode.
1:00am - I’m back in my house in L.A. What a great Thanksgiving. Thankful, Eric