By most standards, today could have been a disaster. I woke up already behind on the prep I intended to take care of before hosting a big (16 people!!) xgiving party. Before I could get the oven pre-heated, my upstairs neighbor let me know that someone had smashed in my car windows overnight, just threw a rock straight through the passenger side (which my insurance won’t cover). A particular baked dish turned out to be a spectacular failure, twice, with my furious meltdown live-streamed to anyone who cared to watch online. The hanging rack in my closet suddenly and mysteriously collapsed, dropping all of my clothes on the floor and leaving me trying to fix the damage with kitchen twine. Just when it seemed that I was clear, it started to rain outside, hard enough to soak gorilla tape before I could cut it to tape a garbage bag over my smashed car window. I fell behind schedule.
I actually managed to keep in good spirits, all things considered, but once my friends arrived (they all seemed to arrive at once) to share a huge meal, my good mood was unstoppable. It felt like I didn’t exist in a world that extended past my apartment.
And nothing particularly special even happened (aside from our cooking. good lord, we’re some talented folks). I just felt really nice. I was a little high-strung from Being A Host and spent a whole lot of time just sitting around watching people, and that was all I needed. It’s easy to forget what a privilege it is to have people in your life who you are comfortable to just idly be around, too full and tired to actually talk to them.
Big Star’s “Thank You Friends” is recognized as a classic by every single person that has heard it, so it will never feel like it “belongs” to me despite cutting so deep. That’s precisely why it makes me feel so good. It’s too big. The song is too powerful, you have to think of everyone you like when you hear it, and I’m convinced that it has this effect on the rest of earth’s population like it does on me, including my friends. Maybe they think of me when they hear it, like I think of them.