Two people this week were perplexed when I divulged that my all-time favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. I don’t know why I received such puzzled expressions, but nevertheless it remains true. I count down the days until the holiday where jeans are acceptable, second helpings are encouraged, and buzzed relatives make for suitable entertainment in place of a typical Thursday night outing. The one thing that irks me when I first come home from school is the eerie silence and the creaky stairs. Living in an apartment with three other girls, there is always noise. When I’m home, I find myself tiptoeing into the house if it’s past midnight. When I come home for Thanksgiving, I know to expect a house filled with animated people, a house where silence is impossible to come by. For those of you who are still unsure of why I think Thanksgiving trumps your personal favorite, just ask yourself how you cannot love lounging around, watching football and sipping on a steep vodka tonic (splash of cranberry) as the meal is being heated up in the oven, the scents wafting through the air and awakening your senses.