Fall is the perfect season to fall out of love. Plants are slowly dying. Midterms make you feel like you’re slowly dying. You might as well use this time to also write out the epitaph for your heart.
Right around the time when the leaves start changing and the weather begins to shift, some of us may be experiencing another surprising and potentially unwelcome change- getting dumped.
With a cold autumn comes a cold heartbreak. And on that weekend when we should be carving into turkey and giving thanks for all the joys in our lives, you may actually be sobbing alone in your room listening to Simon and Garfunkel and binge-eating McDonalds.
The “turkey dump” is a phenomenon sweeping across the nation. Wiping out long distance relationships all over North America, and working to abolish the term “high school sweetheart” forever. Blatantly defined, the turkey dump is when a university or college student comes home after their month and a half of freedom and decides to put an end to their high school relationship. Come Thanksgiving weekend, many a couple will re-unite and quickly thereafter, break ties.
Now regardless of whether you’re the dumper or the dumpee, the turkey dump will take some effort to get over. You’re saying goodbye to the person you naively believed to be your soul mate on a weekend meant for celebration, that’s gotta hurt. So here are some words of encouragement to help you get through this tough time and find something new to be thankful for this holiday season.
The Dumper
So you’re planning on turkey dumping your significant other? Or should I now say insignificant other? Regardless, good on you. Working up the courage to put an end to something that once seemed promising is a difficult task.
If you find that your relationship has been growing weaker, or your wandering eye may potentially become a problem, ending the bond is a good idea.
But remember, let your partner down easy (read: an e-card is not the way to go). Getting dumped over thanksgiving dinner can’t be easily sugar-coated.
The Dumpee
So, you think you might be getting turkey dumped by your significant other? We’ve all experienced the cut and run at one point in time or another, so there’s no need to feel ashamed or embarrassed.
Dissolve your sadness in gravy and stuffing. Bask in the glory of copious amounts of food. This may be the only time in your life when emotional eating will be socially acceptable.
If you are neither the dumper or the dumpee, be thankful that this holiday season you aren’t the one falling out of love. Enjoy your dinner and send hopeful wishes to those experiencing the wrath coming from the tail end of the turkey.
For me, Thanksgiving means more than turkey, family and colonialism. It’s also a built-in societal reminder that my birthday is coming up, sometimes even coinciding exactly with Thanksgiving Day. And as my parents will never cease to remind me with their favourite joke, Oct. 11, 1993 was one of those days: I was their seven-pound turkey. (Yeah, that razor wit is genetic.)
This year my birthday doesn’t fall on Thanksgiving Day, but it is significant for another reason. Those of you counting at home may have noticed that this year marks my twentieth. On October 11, 2013, I will have been alive for 20 years. Yessiree, leaving my teenage years and entering my third decade of life. The big two-oh. Growing up.
A bona fide adult.
Or at least, that’s what people tell me, as I sit here in the office with smears on my glasses, a bracelet knotted on my wrist and no shoes on my feet because I’ve once again forgotten them at home because I rollerblade here.
Is there some expectation for this to change, once I officially outgrow my teenage-hood? Those around me who I’ve witnessed take the jump into their 20’s have all faced it very grimly. It weighed on them for days, sometimes weeks before the big day, as they lamented leaving their youth behind. With my own entrance to adulthood fast approaching, I feel like I’ve missed the anxiety-laden boat.
Am I supposed to be relishing my last days as a teenager? What does that entail, because if it means staying out late, you can count me out - I am super sleepy.
Do I have to do something impulsive and rebellious? I’m not even really sure how to rebel against my parents. Maybe by inefficiently stacking the dish rack, or not carpooling?
I guess I’ve never been very good at being a teenager. Aside of course from the drinking, cursing and terrible music. Unless I’m confusing teenagers with sailors.
But with the apparently momentous end of this hormonal era, I keep trying to find the meaning in this birthday that everyone tells me is there. The last time I got really excited for a birthday was my twelfth, because I was allowed to ride the bigger go-karts at the local track. The last time I got really nervous for a birthday was my sixth, because I didn’t know if my school friend and neighbourhood friend would get along at my party.
My twentieth birthday brings neither the joys of a new motorway nor the stress of hosting two (2) people for a belligerent, cake-fuelled afternoon. Adulthood doesn’t spring itself on a person. It sneaks on, layer by layer. Each layer covers the ones underneath.
But doesn’t get rid of them.
I am just as much composed of my 10-year-old self as I am my 18-year-old self. Sure, they’re buried deeper and don’t show as much, but my 19-year-old self would be hollow without them.
When my twentieth rolls around, soon as it may, it will fit snugly into place. I’m not leaving behind my teenage years, they’re here to greet my 20’s. And 30’s, and 50’s and so on.
And thank goodness, because I’ve still got some hell to raise.
By: Erin Rooney
As an international exchange student at Mac, I didn’t really know what to expect from my first Canadian Thanksgiving. I knew there would be turkey, and I knew pumpkin pie would be involved at some point (a pie I was highly suspicious of, despite normally welcoming all desserts, equally and indiscriminately), but that was the extent of my knowledge.
By Monday night I felt more than a little jealous of all of you who get to have this event every year… and not just because it means you get two Christmas dinners.
At both the Thanksgiving meals I went to (I took full advantage of all turkey offers), I was struck by how welcoming and generous-spirited the people I met were. The ‘more the merrier’ logic really did seem to apply. It seems like Thanksgiving is another great chance, like Christmas, to bring the family together but without all the stress and commercialism that so often overtakes December.
Plus, as a student at this time of the year when supplies are running low and pasta becomes a repeat offender, getting to have a huge home-cooked meal is a serious blessing.
So what did I learn over the long weekend to make me a Thanksgiving pro? Well, number one, going out on the Friday of Thanksgiving probably wasn’t the best idea. ‘A lot of people must to go home for the weekend’ was the first thought that crossed my mind as we entered an empty club. I’m almost certain there was some tumbleweed rolling in front of the DJ booth. But hey, at least our group got discounted entry because the bouncer felt sorry for us dancing in the ghost-town. Lesson number two: fullness is just a state of mind. There is always, always room for more turkey if you are determined enough. And finally number three: despite reservations, I discovered pumpkin pie is delicious. I take back every doubt I once had, and replace them with second and third helpings.
Having now experienced my first weekend of Thanksgiving fun, it’s safe to say that I’ve been converted into a die-hard fan!
