So while you all were stuffing massive amounts of home-cooked food into your faces, laughing and basking in the glow of family togetherness, I was laid up in a room at the Millennium Hilton for a few days. I wasn't able to see my folks and that sucked, but I could handle it since it was substituted for the plush decorum of the hotel. My lady and I relaxed, order room service and caught up on loads of ridiculous television (I finally got to see 'How to make it in America.')
Sure, I missed my mom's food, especially the pie.
Sure, I missed my aunt Bud telling some ridiculous story of our family from the 60's.
Sure I missed my older cousin yelling something ignorant, making the non-family guests uncomfortable.
Sure I missed my younger cousin whispering for me to "get her out of there."
But we'll do it all again for Christmas, so no biggie. Plus, I really needed the staycation and advise everyone to do it sometimes. Maybe not the Hilton, but somewhere.
So what's the blues? Well, I have a life and a brand and a career to maintain, that spending two days in a nice hotel caused me to forget. As a matter of fact, I'm frowning as I type this, from my tiny ass room, on my futon, in Bed-Stuy.