As is now becoming tradition, this last weekend I went to visit my friend for Seder. It was just as pleasant as last year, with just as many bad jokes and glasses of wine.
The Geek, our friend The Historian, one of their mutual friends and I stayed up late playing Cards Against Humanity because we are awful, awful people.
There was one combo that had us laughing so hard that The Historian had me take a picture and promise to blog it. I was fully intending to renege on that promise, but if you’re a bad person and not easily offended, you can find it after the jump.
Beyond wondering why I am such a horrible person, I had another thought about Seder: I miss this. I don’t miss the actual religious faith part of religion, but I miss the feelings and routines it brought: the calendar that brings certain ideas to mind at the same time every year, or even just the almost familial level of friendship that comes from being around the same people so often. I’m slowly finding things to fill those voids, but it takes time and effort after several decades of having it all in one place at church.
In the family-role-filling genre of news (I’m really bad at segues), The Geek and I visited his family while we were in the Bay Area.
His mom, previously portrayed as this:
and whom I’ve only ever seen give two hugs in the two years I’ve known her – one when The Geek graduated, and one when he moved out – came right up to me and gave me a hug. And then invited me to The Geek’s brother’s graduation because she considers me part of the family.
On the outside I did my best projection of
But on the inside I was doing this
I then promptly pretended that I wasn’t on a Whole30 because, considered family or no, I still didn’t want to deal with this