I’m waiting in line at the “secret” coffee place I mentioned in a post once, on the phone with one of my closest friends.
“How are you? How’s the ankle?”, he asks.
“Blue and mediocre.”
“Wait, WHAT?”
“Well, I’m wearing a blue dress and it still hurts. Actually, I officially sound like an Ammachi/Naniji now, because my hip hurts constantly. Apparently, three months of limping will do that to you!”
“Smartypants, here I was worried you were ‘blue’ as in sad.”
“Tiny bit. Always am around the holidays.”
“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”
“No. Mom’s traveling, no one’s there.”
“What timing for a trip!”
“Well…we never really celebrated the holiday. My parents had that typical snarky comeback, you know, ‘only Americans would need a special day to be thankful for everything. Hmmph! We’re thankful daily!’…like that. So it was just a regular day at our house…with slightly different TV programs.”
“So you have not had this…tofurkey you sent me, on Facebook?”
“No. I don’t eat tofu.”
“You sound sad.”
“I guess I am, a little bit. Everyone’s rushing off with a suitcase and while I don’t really want to travel THIS week, it reminds me that they’re going to be with their family, and that does make me miss home. This is my first Thanksgiving when I’m not going anywhere. It’s a little depressing.”
“Well, now you know what a FOB feels like.”




