No matter how much you love college, sometimes you need a break. Come thanksgiving break, we've finally started to miss the home we swore we never would. We're ready for the ultimate home cooked meal: Thanksgiving dinner! The whole family is in town, football is on, cranberry sauce is ready, everything seems perfect until...
"Any exciting stories from college?"
"So have you decided what to major in?"
"Meet any nice boys at school?"
"Ready for finals?"
They mean well. I know they do. Having a college student come back is exciting. Especially when you live in the middle of a town that's only attraction is that it's "a convenient stop off of I81." They want to hear about all of your exciting stories, but only the PG ones. You can't tell your grandma about the time you blacked out at 3PM on homecoming weekend and walked into sheetz missing one hoop earring and your dignity. Instead you go with the time you went and watch the sunrise with your roommates, not mentioning the fact that you got home 20 minutes before you left.
They want to hear all about how successful you are, not how you started studying for your Spanish test only 20 minutes in advance. Its especially endearing how they think you can just decide on a major instead of spending months in tear-filled anxiety about whether you'll get into comm or batten.
They want to hear about all the wonderful boys you've met, not the boy you hooked up with once and then avoided eye contact with you at the bus stop for the next 6 months. Mom, I appreciate that you think that everybody boy I meet at trin is an eligible father of your grandchildren, but you are sadly, sadly mistaken.
And I don't know why the fuck anyone would ask about finals. No one wants to talk about that. Especially not me.
So to each of my relatives, I love you dearly but to answer your questions.