lineuplife111903

Years ago when I was a graduate student living in on-campus student housing, the calendar days would slip around to the well-deserved holidays— no classes, no books, no exams, but I did miss my tribe. My partners who I hung out with, studied with, ate with, partied with—my surrogate family. When classes were over, people were all about getting out of dodge. It seemed everyone grabbed seats on planes, trains and automobiles and claimed their ticket to freedom.

For those of us left behind in the empty dorms, we faced a couple of weeks of “holidaze” filled with overcast skies, misty rain and long cold evenings. One year a group of engineering students I knew got together and hosted the first “Orphans Thanksgiving.” That inspired group of roommates invited all of us who'd been left behind over for turkey day dining. Over the years the dinner morphed into an incredible edible feast – the best potluck on the planet for as many as seventy-five people who stopped by during the day.

My cranberry-orange-persimmon relish and Filipino pancit noodles sat alongside my friend Kelle's steamin' green beans and mac n' cheese casserole. The meal closed with a raid on a dessert table so fine with silky smooth sweet potato pies and my friend Herek's luscious chocolate bread pudding. The point is not only did we have a place to go but also it was truly a day of thanks giving for making new friends and keeping up with the old.

The Orphan's Thanksgiving has gone the way most things do when they've outlived their usefulness. As the orphans have dwindled due to marriage, relocations and new relationship status. Still single when the holidays approach I wonder where my gathering place will be. I haven't chosen to create a family in the traditional sense. And one doesn't always want to go home to the family you're born into.

I miss my holidays with friends but realize as we all grow older and their lives change, I may be left behind. I know I should be developing a holiday tradition of my own—a way to celebrate and give thanks that's meaningful to me, but I have yet to prioritize that task. Maybe I feel that doing so would place me forever in the solo celebration category.

I've read about women who plan the same vacations every year, say a stay at a 19th century cottage in a small village in Tuscany, or a drive to a cozy inn on the California coastline to seek peace and give thanks for the change of seasons and the gifts of the passing year. Growing up in a big family of five kids and parents and a grandparents, I cherished the loud, chaotic, bustling in our small wood frame house in the islands. I looked forward to the wondrous scents of my grandmother's cooking and my mom's famous attempts at new turkey recipes. Our neighbors dropping by with calabashes of island treats like haupia and jello salad. For me the holidays have always been about eating and cooking and talking and laughing and then more of the same.

This year is no exception as I ponder where my seat at the Thanksgiving table will be. I've polled other singles for ideas. My friend Shelley in Los Angeles says she's “trolling among her friends to see who'll take her in.”

I fantasize about doing something exotic for the holidays—like jetting off to safari in Africa or a last-minute trip to the islands—any islands. You know something that will truly exploit as my single status and will turn married friends and relatives green with envy.

Jane, 43, owner of Jane Consignment in San Francisco, a posh boutique featuring “gently worn” clothing and new unique finds, says as a retailer she barely has time to catch her breath during the holidays. Yet a close friend is flying in from Seattle and she's hosting her first Girl's Poker Night and Slumber Party for the long weekend. A couple of her male friends have asked to attend but Jane says “We're not sure we're going to let the boys crash the slumber party because that would change the whole dynamic of the evening.” After hanging out at Martuni's on Market, a gay karaoke piano bar, she plans on a 2 am breakfast of French toast.

How can you make your holidays a singular sensation?

Start planning now. Ask around. Find out the holiday plans of close friends and family. Maybe you can crash the party.

Decide whether you're in the mood for charades or solitaire.

Create your own holiday tradition. I still bring my orange cranberry relish to any holiday gathering I'm invited to. And I have fun shopping for hostess gifts. Each year I select a theme gift- whether it's wine, spa or a clever keepsake.

Keep a record. Take pictures, start a scrapbook, or write in a journal. Document that you take time out for yourself at the holidays- and that you had more fun than you ever thought possible. That way next year it won't seem like such a drag. Your memories will inspire you to celebrate the season.

Take time out to give thanks. You'd be surprised at how much good a little personal reflection can do to keep you focused and content.

Travel- the change of scenery will lift your spirits and fuel your sense of adventure. You'll have great holiday stories to share around the water cooler or with friends online. Try a Southwest Thanksgiving with a Native American twist or watch for Santa to arrive on his surfboard in Hawaii.

I'm heading south to Los Angeles to celebrate my younger sister's holiday birthday and to help prepare a Thanksgiving meal for fifteen. Are you home alone or hanging with the home girls (or boys)?

Email me at JERUSHA@viplineup.com

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