It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

That glorious all-you-can-eat turkey-fest is just… It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

That glorious all-you-can-eat turkey-fest is just a week away. Visions of stuffing, mashed potatoes, candied yams, pumpkin pie and, of course, sweet, sweet turkey are dancing in our heads.

But in our rush to reach this priceless week of R ‘n’ R, we tend to forget certain inalienable truths. Let us ask ourselves – is Thanksgiving ever truly relaxing?

The most relaxed I was during my Thanksgiving vacation last year was when one of my roommates surprised us with turkey TV dinners on our last day of class. We warmed them up, turned on some old school N*SYNC, and settled around the coffee table for some stress-free, non-school related conversation.

And I was eagerly anticipating my break. Perhaps for some of you, Thanksgiving break is truly a break from the stressors of the world. But, as we know, I don’t lead what most would consider a normal life.

I should have known last year’s break wasn’t going to be so hot. In fact, I was very clearly warned.

One of my roommates offered to drive me to meet my sister and I eagerly accepted. Bus rides are not my favorite. So, she goes to get her car and I’m waiting. And waiting. She calls me about 45 minutes later because she was tapped by an SUV while crossing Fifth Avenue.

That is, if you consider being “tapped” knocked down in the middle of the street. In her shock, she stood up and semi-waved to the driver. Then, the person drove away.

“Sorry, I just hit you with my SUV.”

But, we proceeded onward to meet my sister, who was about three and a half months pregnant at the time and extremely sensitive to certain aromas. So, when I get into the car with her, she grabs a plastic bag and pukes because I smell like Lovespell.

Nothing like vomiting at the sight of a loved one to really say “welcome home.”

Thus, for the next week I was forced to fix her odd lactose-intolerant-milk-drinking pregnancy craving. Every day I was at Giant Eagle, lugging three or four cartons to the checkout. I’m pretty sure I overheard the cashiers referring to me as Lactaid Girl.

When Thanksgiving dinner finally rolled around, I was given the task of pretending to start a Thanksgiving tradition. We were to go around the table and each say something that we were thankful for, finishing up with my brother in-law, who was going to announce that he was thankful for the “bun in the oven” that no one knew about yet.

So, I stand up as everyone’s poised to dig in and I start this speech about how we should start this tradition and everyone’s looking at me like, “Great, Jessie has gone off to college and become one of those beatniks who believe in free love and whatnot and she probably has illegal drugs on her right now.”

But, surprisingly, everyone really takes to the idea, and 20 minutes later the food is cold and we’ve finally come full circle to my brother in-law, who makes his proud announcement. Exciting.

Until I realize that I’ve officially been demoted to least favorite child, because I am the only one who has yet to produce offspring and continue the line of craziness.

And a quick piece of advice: Don’t bring a guest to dinner whom you wouldn’t consider throwing to a pack of wolves. I’ll never forget when I was about 8 years old and in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner my grandmother said to my sister’s teenage boyfriend:

“Drop your pants. I want to see if you’re good enough for my granddaughter.”

But, then again, maybe this is just my family.

Don’t get me wrong. There are certainly perks to this holiday break. Sleeping into the early afternoon hours in your own big bed in your old room, no homework, tons to eat and no Petersen gym taunting you from atop its lofty perch.

I just have to be the voice of reason. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows at home and you know it. In fact, this coming break I have the joy of working at Primanti Brothers to make the money I need to pay back my parents for my spring break plane ticket.

So while you all are enjoying your nice relaxing week, I’ll be working to pay for another “stress-free” break. Ironic, isn’t it?

Jessica will be hawking fries and coleslaw for great prices when she returns from Thanksgiving break. To contribute to her spending money in Florida, e-mail her at [email protected].