Read Jeneration X: One Reluctant Adult's Attempt to Unarrest Her Arrested Development; Or, Why It's Never Too Late for Her Dumb Ass to Learn Why Froot Loops Are Not for Dinner for Free Online

Gina. She spots us from her table on the second floor where she’s having lunch when she hears the familiar sound of us squabbling.
    “Gina, settle an argument for me,” I say. “No one would come to my house on Thanksgiving, right?”
    Gina cocks her head. “Why not?”
    “Because they have plans. Like you. Where will you be on Thanksgiving?”
    “Probably in my house, drinking wine, ignoring the day so I don’t have to be with my annoying relatives,” she replies.
    “Aha!” Stacey crows. “
This
is what I’m talking about. If Jen had a Thanksgiving Day dinner, would you come?”
    Without hesitation, Gina replies, “Absolutely! I’d much rather drink wine at your house.”
    Stacey turns to me. “Told you so.”
    I admit it, I like the idea of flipping the script, but the actuality of it may be too much for me to handle. “I panic when I have to cook for more than three people. Remember my dinner party this summer where half the guests never even got fed before they had to leave and I accidentally got hammered?”
    Gina helpfully adds, “If I recall, the problem was more that you got hammered and forgot to start dinner. Those cocktails were delicious, though.” I mixed equal parts of passion fruit juice, elderflower liqueur, Prosecco, and Stoli Razberi and all the girlsslammed them like Gatorade on a hot day. [
Primarily because I forgot to tell everyone I included a bottle of vodka.
] Eventually Fletch had to step in to work the grill because he thought we were all so soaked in alcohol that we’d ignite if we got too close.
    You see, I’ve become a bit of a mixologist—or, according to Fletch, I’m the Queen of the Girl Drunk Drinks. When we started dating, I drank Johnnie Walker Black and soda. Now when we go out, I’m all, “What do you have with lychee nuts in it?” To me? This is not a bad thing. I mean, I don’t do shots anymore because I hate how they make me feel in the morning. Coincidentally, this is also why I no longer eat Lucky Charms for dinner. Much as I enjoyed both acts, I haven’t the liver or the stomach of a college kid anymore.
    Stacey waves away my protests. “When we get home, I’ll send you my Thanksgiving time and action plan. My plan contains everything you need to do from start to finish, so the whole thing is foolproof. No worries.”
    “Does this mean we’re having Thanksgiving at your house, Jen?” Gina asks.
    “Um…” I stammer.
    “Yes,” Stacey replies. “This year Jen learns to flip the script. Now, I think we have some shopping to do.”

    Within a few hours, my Thanksgiving Day goes from nonexistent to hosting a dinner for twelve.
    Holy crap.

    Later in the evening, I receive Stacey’s time and action plan. I sit here at my desk blinking at it, overwhelmed by its precision. Not only does this multiple-paged tome contain an entire menu complete with recipes, but there’s a whole shopping list divided by department and the time action plan breaks out my week in fifteen-minute increments, beginning on Monday.
    This is a masterpiece of planning and precision.
    To the extent that it’s freaking me out.
    I e-mail Stacey the following:
“Somewhere in Connecticut, a chill just raced down Martha Stewart’s back.”
    She responds:
“Poor Martha. Sadly, she is not chilled at all. 1) No Jew could ever out-Thanksgiving a WASP like her and 2) I don’t forge my own silverware or weave my own tablecloth, which just makes me lazy. Go over with Fletch, and make your own menu. You can then delete items off the shopping list for the stuff you aren’t making, and add anything new that you need. (Check your herbs and spices, since I have a good stock of those and they aren’t on my shopping list.) Once you have the menu set, we can make an equipment list.”
    Equipment list?
    I am so over my head right now.

    Things begin to go off the rails before I can even get to step one on Monday. Between finishing edits for
My Fair Lazy
and driving downtown for an interview for