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thanksgiving dinner

despite my known addiction to movies, i have managed to somehow outgrow the need to watch the same movie for the nth time. gone are the days that i watch a movie in the silver screen, then again on disc, and  again and again on cable. it’s a crazy habit – and i know only a few people will understand it. anyway, as i’ve said, i’ve matured – somehow.

however, there is a genre where maturity does not have any effect on: family movies. you see, growing up with my family could be a material for those afternoon telanovelas – and i guess this addiction of watching movies was the childhood onset of my well-developed escapist way of life. i don’t have a favorite really, as long as a funny and dysfunctional family with catastrophes up to their nose would end up making me feel all warmed-up inside – i’m hooked for life.

as part of a VCU program, we spent Thankgiving with an american family. and to our luck, it was with the Gainers: Tom, the well-read financial analyst; Susan, the cunning civil engr; MaryJane, eldest art student who could only dream of thinking “scientific” ; MaryRachel, high school junior who woke up one day and realized sneezes were funny; Jack, 10yr old with serious intentions to be a football coach, delivering his minute predictions on the Dallas Cowboy thankgiving game on tv; Jack & Mary, grandparents, writers who were white water rafters in their youth; and long-time family friends bikers Holly & Jack with telephatic daughters Megan & Keily (they just look at each other from across the table and laugh) – who provided most of the amusing stories to the table. i felt like i was part of a movie script, the foreign student who brought banana wrapped in egg roll but suprisingly could speak english very well (maybe i should have pretended i can’t, i wonder what the reactions would be).

i was laughing at their jokes , getting to know their stories:  i was conversing with my characters. it was fun, warm and fuzzy inside, just like in my favorite movies, but different in a way that i will always remember.

on the drive back home, i can’t help but feel that empty space again. the space that has been carved up in the past and will remain hollow for a lifetime; a self-proclaimed spectator with familial contentment.

who wants to watch TNT weekend marathon with me?

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