Turkey Week

Thanksgiving is a time where loved ones come together to remember the amicable feast hosted by the Pilgrims, shortly before they all but wiped out the native population of Eastern North America. Having the last 5 days off from classes stretched time out into a strange but entertaining collection of experiences with friends and family.
When: Tuesday night.
Where: Syracuse, NY
Two friends call me up in search of some fresh herbal supplements In the early evening. I am of no help to them, but instead ask to join the search in hopes of adventure, and maybe even finding a little shrubbery for myself.
Our Journey begins with a quick safety discussion in the parking lot of a local ski hill. Switchboard then lights up with a frenzy of calls to help us find our way into the forest. Failed phone calls abound, a lucrative whim finds it's mark, and we are on our way to the Bro-levards of Syracuse University. Warm weather and torn overleaves cannot stomp the spirit of the night, and everyone goes their way happy.
When: Wednesday afternoon.
Where: Toggenburg Mountain Ski Center
I meet up with the Mcginnis brothers, Matthew and Michael, for a quick brief on this year's terrain park. We are antsy throughout the meeting, as voluptuous piles of man-made snow lie a mere twenty feet (6.096 meters) from our current location, inside the lodge. The meeting is done! Quick half hour drive to pick up a pair of skis, and we're back. Always the visionary, Matt transforms one snow mound into an undervert quarter pipe, with a steep landing down the reverse. Velocity check after velocity check shows us that speed is what we need. After finally getting that speed dialed, the session is on! the first spins of the season are spun and the first grabs, grabbed. Off axis rotations find their way into the mix, some intentional whilst others not. I am eventually put out of action by a tragic case of whiplash on a failed switch landing, and forced to retreat home in time for dinner...but before I left, I decided to randomly yell "visit matt's site an& buy his clothes at an& Clothing"
When: Wednesday night.
Where: China Road oriental cuisine, Mattydale, NY.
The owner of China Road, Simon Teng is standing next to the table where I am joined by my brother and parents. "Who ordered the Pig Intestines", asks Teng, a former proprietor of several very successful chic NYC Chinese food joints. My family turns their amused stares my way, as I announce with appropriate brevity, "IT WAS I". Most patrons are now craning and straining to see the poor fool who must have clearly misread the menu. I maintain my steely reserve (lame 40oz reference?) and shake Simon's hand while he explains that I am the first to have ordered such a delicacy in months. After many greasy noodles, green tea, and several bouts with an unidentified pepper that was basically hot as SHIT, my (or rather the pig's) intestines arrive.
A small army of oriental chefs deliver the intestines in several components, first a small sterno stove, next a bowl and stack of napkins, and finally a steaming hot saucer of what the menu had led me to believe were pig intestines. Said chefs stand back and join the owner in watching me cash in my pig-intestine v-card. The intestines themselves were small rubbery pink chunks of what I had always imagined intestines to be like (not that I had ever lent much thought to the texture and consistency of intestines before). I finally indulge myself and to my delightful surprise, pig intestines are downright tasty. I eat everything on my plate and also steal from my family's plates while they aren't looking. Stealing is too fun not to do all the time.
When: Thanksgiving; all day
Where: The fiery kitchens of hell
Giving thanks for what? Not getting to spend the day with my family? That was Beat