One of the curiousities of the young adult years is the lack of consistency of support network. We are transient finicky creatures that change our likes, dislikes, and locations as much as we skip songs on our ipod.
On of the curiousities of my life is that despite this innate quality of transition, my friendfam has an addiction to tradition. Enough of us have lived in close proximity to one another for enough time that we have developed traditions that make life more bearable, more exciting, and filled with photo albums.
We have the standard holiday parties with the standard fanfare, but we've created a few of our own side traditions, too. One of these traditions is something explicitly named: The Godfather Marathon. A few years ago, Nate and I realized our mutual affection for the movies and need to proselytize our friends with its goodness. So he found a spaghetti sauce based on a scene in Part One, we found a large screen tv, and hunkered down for a full afternoon and evening of mobstah lovin' and italian meals that will sustain you into the next millenium.
Nate has since moved on to new places but the marathon continues. Every year Godfather virgins fall into our traps. We teach them about the intricacies of the plot and talk throughout the movie, but only when it is appropriate. It is one of my favorite traditions with friends.
Now on to the store to buy meatball materials!!