Family Matters

My Sundays are usually panic-filled on account of my procrastinatory ways. Of course this is a self-fueled problem, but I can solve it some other time. This particular Sunday was following my first full weekend up at school, which turned out to be the biggest letdown since the Segway. After laying in bed til 11:30 because of my lack of motivation to climb down from Mt. Everest, aka my lofted bed, we filled up my car and headed to the elusive land of Wal-Mart.

I always have mixed feelings when I go to that store, because I know it is based on corporate greed and underpaid wages, yet at the same time it's hard for a college student to pass up prices that are at least $2-3 less than other places. Regardless of money, Wal-Mart is always interesting to people watch at because of it's variety of patrons.

After Wal-Mart, we scooted over to the local Hannafords to grocery shop for the week, but it also was to prepare for a new occurrence: Family Dinners.

Coined by our good friend Tom, Family Dinners would be happening every Sunday, bouncing between the girls' and guys' apartments every other week. It seemed harmless enough as we began to pull things together, but as time went on, I knew that it would probably be more fitting to address these gatherings as Dysfunctional Family Dinners.

My house (consisting of Meaghan, Alexsis, Colleen and pseudo-roomie Kayla) had spent most of the day on preparations for that night. We went for the classics by making spaghetti and meatballs, green beans, along with garlic bread. Since the only pre-made thing we bought was the meatballs, the afternoon was overrun with kitchen drama, including a few dancing and singing jam sessions, all the while cutting green beans.

The rule made by Tom, was that the host house cooked dinner and the guest house brought dessert. I was really hoping that the boys house (which last night's guest list included Tom, his friend from Boston, Steve, Mark, Chris, James, and Heather) would be bringing brownies or ice cream after hearing that they were in charge of one item, but as they all walked through the door empty handed, I realized that I might just want to put a few extra beans on my plate.

In all fairness, Chris did bring over some cookies, which would've worked out well if there was actually enough for everyone. Seeing everything we did, they know that we do dinner with intense gamefaces, so next week they better be prepared. (Author's note-- I've since learned that Tom & Mark feel horrendously bad about their contribution, but no worries, I have faith in their promise for a delicious meal in the coming week!)

Regardless of the food situation, it was something new to be cooking and eating together with friends this week. Since coming to school, I have prepared all of my own meals (which has been beneficial to my healthy eating kick,) but it lacks the lustre that a gathering has. Is my independence lacking that homey feeling that we all sometimes need?

The answer is yes. Although I get some sort of mature high from shopping and cooking for all of my meals, the atmosphere in the room last night was something I haven't had in awhile. Even at home, my meals round out to 2-3 people MAX per meal. Seeing every spot on our 2 chairs, 2 couches, and futon being filled, I would say it was an epic success for the first night.

It's at the point where we're slowly admitting we aren't kids anymore. Drinks can be consumed over dinner without the words "CHUG!" slurring through the air. As much as we are college students, we are upper classmen, who don't get bug-eyed at the opportunity to have a drink. Watching the dynamic of last night, it was fun to sit around with friends, shoot the shit, and just enjoy having people to eat with. That's the killer for most kids at college; the subtle times you are alone that never occurred during your 18 years at home. Between cafeterias and at home, there was always a chance that someone would be around, but at college that all changes. I've had countless meals in the dining hall alone.

This isn't to say that I can't function without others, but the conversational presence of another during a meal is a moment that is all too overlooked. The solemn moment of consumption by yourself seems drawn out and pathetic, forced to contemplate your own thoughts or turn to a television. Especially at this day in age, I am bound to be more entertained by the company of my friends, than the programs following the 6 o'clock news.

Regardless of the meal, people, or place, I'm glad that buddy boy Tom voiced the idea to the 2 apartments. While our schedules remain busy, it will be nice to have one common thing a week to concentrate on and look forward to.

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. ~Jane Howard