Into Every Thanksgiving Some Turkey Will Creep

     Today I saw a sign for a national food chain advertising a special for Thanksgiving day dinner.  This reminded me of my first "failed "Thanksgiving.  

     It was my first year of college, when I was a student at a Canadian university.  Naturally, the last Thursday in November was of no consequence to my "northern" comrades and the university did not allow me that Thursday off.  As the holiday approached I became increasingly depressed. 

     My female roommate at the time was "dating" an openly gay man.  When I pressed her about this fact she replied," Yes, I am aware he is gay, however I think it is the ultimate challenge and reflection of my beauty if I can "turn" him."

     At the time I didn't know which was more offensive, her disregard for another persons' stated sexual preference, or her "ego gone wild".  (Later on I would find out that this type of sexual conquest was not atypical and that there was an equally offensive term for it.) 

     Perhaps what made all of this worse was that the man my roommate was "courting" was a nice guy.  Empathetic to my Thanksgiving pain, he launched into a campaign to host a Thanksgiving dinner at his apartment complete with all the fixins.  This cheered me up and I quickly abadoned my integrity (up to this point, I had maintained a subtle protest for my roommate's behavior) and encouraged her to ensue her pursuit.  

    For weeks, whenever I saw this man, he excitedly filled me in on the recipes he had collected, pantry he had stocked and decorations he had amassed.  This, I thought , was actually going to be more fun than a relative-laden, family affair back home. 

     Naturally, the day before Thanksgiving my roomate "made her move" and by proxy my relationship with the nice Thanksgiving-planning man ended abruptly.  While I silently cheered his emancipation, I was devestated about my turkeyless, non-Thanksgiving.  The next day, I walked to Burger King, bought two Whoppers, a large fry and found a corner in the basement of my dorm, where I wept with self pity and righteous indignation as I shoved all that flame-broiled goodness in my mouth.

     And.......if you looked really closely.....you would have found some small feathers sprouting from my head. 

      For this Thanksgiving I have created two patterns in honor of our friend the turkey.  The wearer will be reminded of all of those thanksgiving turkeys, both edible and otherwise.