One of the most commonly asked questions I get around the holidays is “do Americans really eat those big turkeys like you see in the American films?”. Of course I answer with an enthusiastic “yes!” because to me there is nothing like the holidays in America.

Doesn't It Smell Delish

For me it all starts with the first sighting of cranberry sauce and pumpkin puree on the end caps of the nearest grocery store. The sight alone heightens my senses to all of the sights and sounds around me…suddenly I’m that little girl from Atlantic City again. Oh how I love the holidays!

When I moved to Italy in 2007 it was my first and only time outside of America for the holidays. Although I did spend a nice Christmas with my parents and some relatives, it didn’t feel like the holiday’s. It was Thanksgiving that was missing, that definitive start of the holiday season.

My yen to experience the holiday’s that I am accustomed to took me to America in 2008, just days before Thanksgiving. The days leading up to my departure my friends became more and more curious about this American tradition, and I decided the best thing to do was have a Thanksgiving in Italy.

Now for those of you who have never experienced Italy I need to tell you that finding the staples of a traditional American anything is nearly impossible. Aware of the obstacles, I began planning this event mid summer, 2009. I had supplies of cranberry sauce brought in from Rome, pumpkin puree sent to me from America, and turkey and sausage on order. Some of my friends, the ones really in love with the idea of America, went so far as to order “Stars and Stripes” theme plates, napkins, table clothes, and other decorations. They were so enthusiastic that I didn’t have the heart to tell them that they had actually ordered Fourth of July decorations.

Thanksgiving Meets 4rth of July

After much planning and preparation the day came to share this American tradition with friends. More than 15 of us sat around a huge table, and after each of us shared what we were grateful for, we ate. Everything was perfect and everyone really seemed to enjoy themselves.  For me, having celebrated Thanksgiving forty times before, I didn’t expect this to anything special…but I was wrong.  This actually turned out to be a Thanksgiving I will never forget because it gave me the opportunity to experience an American tradition through the eyes of an Italian, and to remember what this celebration is really about.  Thanks to this very special Thanksgiving I realized that without the opportunity to make the choices I’ve made, or without the possibility to change my life so drastically, I might have never really understood how blessed I truly am.  For that, I am grateful!

Remember when you were a kid and you had to write those stupid essays on your real life. You know…”What I Did Over Christmas Vacation” or “Why I Love My Mom”. I never liked having to do those ridiculous things as a kid. I just always thought it was such a chore to have to actually think. However, now that I’m older I find myself at the other end of the spectrum with nothing but thoughts. That’s me…all thoughts, all the time. Now I’m not talking about normal brain activity here. I’m talking lots of random, stupid thoughts that have nothing to do with normal functioning.

I know your thinking “we all have thoughts”…that right there was a thought and I know that…it’s not like I’m retarded. But I’m talking about other types of thoughts. Like the “they have nothing to do with me or my life so why am I even thinking about this shit” type of thoughts.

Let me give you an example…about two weeks ago I drove to the beach at around 6 a.m.. It was cloudy, gray, and cold, but I wanted to enjoy my morning cup of coffee in a different environment…so the beach it was. I stood there for a good 2 hours and really enjoyed it all. The ocean was rough, the air was brisk, and there were some really hot surfers around. When I was done I went home and started my morning routine. No big deal right? WRONG!!!

3 days later I’m driving to work and what pops into my head? Those surfers on the beach. I suddenly started to think about every move they made. First, they stood at the sea wall and studied the waves for a good 25 minutes. After that, they suited up, grabbed their boards and walked down to the sand. Then they walked at least a 1/4 mile down along the shore before even getting into the water. Finally, they got on their boards and paddled…and paddled, and paddled, and paddled. By the time they were out far enough they all sat up and waited…and waited, and waited, and waited.

You know, none of it really phased me at the time but on this particular ride to work it hit me. My thoughts started racing and it sounded something like this. >”What are they CRAZY? Can 18 seconds of standing on a piece of fiberglass cruising at a speed of maybe 2 m.p.h. be worth all of that time and energy?!?!

Those are the types of thoughts I’m talking about. Shear pandemonium. So now that you understand these random, stupid thoughts I can get to the reason I wrote this post. It’s for my peeps because every morning that I drive to work and I start to think about silly surfers I know I can pick up my cell phone and try to get in touch with one of my peeps. Now, my calls always go in the same order. First I call Karen, then John, then my sister. If I get Karen I just ramble off whatever nutty thought I’m having at the moment and then go about my day. If she isn’t available I try John, and so on. Usually by the third try I have gotten someone, but if not I phone my dad in Italy and just say “hi”.

Well, anyway, this has pretty much become a part of my daily ritual. I know Karen, John, and Angela think I am completely nuts but they always humor me and let me rattle off my topic du jour. That’s why they’re my peeps. They get me, and I’ll be the first to say, that is no easy task. That is why I love them.