Thanksgiving is here and I find myself stuck.

Who invented thanksgiving anyways? I mean, obviously I know all about it. The Indians and colonists got together and had turkey and corn and pie and just were happy (but we kinda backstabbed them later...) but who had to make it a national holiday? 

Okay. Honestly I love Thanksgiving, I really do. I get to see my cousins and eat good food and watch what I want on T.V finally. But this year I'm dreading the holiday, and I think I have a very good reason: My Oma (grandmother). 

But old ladies are sweet! You say. How can you hate your grandmother? You persist. Yeah, not this one. She may be your typical old lady in your eyes, but she's very judgemental to me and my family. She says that I can't come over if I wear black eyeshadow and leather jackets and stuff like that when I look FAB-U-LOUS in it. She calls my cousin fat because she eats bread. In reality she's underweight and I'm worried she'll form an eating disorder. 

So this year my wonderful (I give them to much credit) parents decided that because my uncle from Australia and my aunt and her kids from Chicago are coming that we have to have thanksgiving at my Oma's. BUT I CAN'T STAND ANYBODY! It's like putting me into a room with dumb people and populars. It dosen't end very well... 

Whats more is my grandmother wants us (16 people) to sit at the same table (seats 9) and have one person talk at a time. Which would be my aunt. Furthermore, she wants us to talk about politics and intelligent people and nothing stupid. But with me in the room, c'mon, I'm gonna make innuendos and giggle at everything because I am immature. 

I hate my cousins. I hate my aunts. I hate my uncles. I hate my father right now for making me do this. And I hate my Oma. This year, unlike so many others, I am not looking forward to this American holiday we call Thanksgiving.