So how about not traveling?

Not traveling?  WTF, that’s what this blog is all about, right? 

Yes, yes, it is.  But sometimes an argument can be made for not traveling and staying right where you are.

I’m 33 years old, and except for only two occasions, I’ve always, always spent Thanksgiving with my extended family (and immediate family when I had one).  And those two occasions were pretty darn awesome, themselves - I spent one Thanksgiving in New York because I got to march in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in a fat, ruffly antebellum dress, and the other I was having a gut-busting blast studying abroad in Scotland. 

But Thanksgiving season is one of the busiest travel periods of the entire year.  Everyone and their mother hits the road, the train, or the skies to be able to stuff their faces full of turkey and dressing (or stuffing if you’re a Yankee) alongside their loved ones, then try not to pass out from food coma while watching football.  It’s a great tradition, but it can be a pain in the ass to get to that point. 

Most of my family lives within just a couple of hours of each other.  I live 1,000 miles away.  So I can spend about 14 hours on the road if I choose to drive.  I’m nuts, but I’m not that crazy.

Or I can fly.  The most convenient airport to most of my family is serviced by only one airline that shall remain nameless* (ahem, DELTA), and that airline charges an arm, a leg, a pint of blood, and a first-born child to fly down there for Thanksgiving.  That doesn’t exactly go on my list of things to be thankful for.

This year, Chris and I were planning on driving down to Alabama for the whole week - see some family (especially my grandmother), see some friends, and yell at the TV as Auburn University gets the holy hell beaten out of them by Alabama in football.  But after looking carefully at our schedules, we realized that a week away simply wasn’t going to work.  So driving a total of 30 hours?  Not the best idea.  Perhaps fly?  Hahahaha! Yeah.  Look at the paragraph above.

Ok, so driving by myself isn’t going to happen.  Last-minute flight availability is crappy and costly.  And my family is going to be rather spread out this year, anyway.  

So last night, I made the decision to forgo the travel down south.  I’ve never been in this situation before, and it feels incredibly strange knowing that for the first time in my life, I’ve essentially chosen not to spend it with family.  But by making this choice, I don’t have to deal with Amateur Day at the airport, overbooked flights, and being forced to babysit a stranger’s children on the plane.  

I also won’t get to see my grandmother strutting her stuff with a walker and a shotgun.  But that’s ok - I think I’ll fly down after Thanksgiving and visit with her then.  I don’t need a major holiday as an excuse to go visit family.  They are reason enough to go visit - at any time.

*just kidding.  I’m totally calling them out.