Thanksgiving’s come and gone again.

It seems to come around earlier each year, as if Winter is the playground bully and Thanksgiving just has to comply for fear of being hurt.

This year my family decided to skip the long cooking process and eat at a restaurant. And I realize that while most people would be a little shocked at the lack of tradition there, I was actually relieved.

I’ll be truthful: the restaurant meal wasn’t that great, but it sure as hell beat my family’s cooking, and that is just sad.

So obviously I’m a big ol’ Scrooge when it comes to this holiday. To be honest, I’m not particularly spirited during any holiday— call me un-American.

I suppose it’s mainly because I don’t even like Thanksgiving food. Turkey? Dry. Mashed potatoes? Too buttery. Stuffing? Promising, but not with the boxed mix my mom’s been using.

Who knows— maybe when I have a family of my own, I’ll turn into this “holiday person.” But for now, I’ll stick with my Thanksgiving meal of cranberry sauce and lasagna, please.