We've all played the game where you imagine who you'd invite to dinner if you could invite anyone (or at the very least, I have made many many people play this game over the years) so it's natural, on a big eating holiday like Thanksgiving, to do more or less the same thing. Which famous folks could you imagine praising your cooking and asking for your recipes? Who of the elite Hollywood in-crowd would you feel comfortable stuffing yourself beyond comfort or reason in front of? There are a lot of considerations to be made when it comes to the invite list for celebrity Thanksgiving, but luckily for you all, I've been thinking about this since probably last Thanksgiving. And I may or may not have a very detailed fantasy situation in mind. Let me just remind Jennifer Lawrence that the turkey needs basting and we'll get started.The doorbell rings as I've got half my arm up a turkey's ass. "Of course the first guest would arrive as I'm stuffing the bird" I think to myself, withdrawing my stuffing-covered arm and wiping it on a kitchen towel. I try and make a mental note to actually wash that dishtowel once Thanksgiving is over, but I'm so excited to see my first guest that any thoughts of dishtowels or fowl's assholes dissipate as I open the door.
"Ooooh damn honey, werk that paisley apron!" RuPaul squeals affectionately, stepping inside and giving me a kiss on the cheek. I self-consciously brush at the apron, aware that it's probably covered with all sorts of Thanksgiving detritus, but RuPaul stops me. "Girl, you might be covered in crumbs but that outfit is far from crumb-y," he says, putting a foil-covered tray on the table. He follows me into the kitchen as I get back to stuffing the turkey, and the jokes he tells about how this turkey-stuffing sitch looks exactly like this thing he did last Thanksgiving to his ex-boyfriend are so nasty I can't even repeat them here. But they're hilarious.
I finish stuffing the turkey and pop it in the oven. RuPaul grabs the sweet potatoes and the peeler, and as I'm about to start prepping the sweet potato mash, the doorbell rings again. RuPaul waves me towards the door and grabs the peeler. "God, it's great to have such helpful friends," I call back to him as I run for the door. Standing outside are Jennifer Lawrence and Ellen DeGeneres. "I BROUGHT SO MUCH WINE" Jennifer says, brandishing a booze bag so full that I'm drunk even thinking about it. She and Ellen walk inside, doing a song and dance that revolves around how much wine we have, and Ellen puts her cans of cranberry sauce on the counter before saying she's sorry, but Portia will be coming along a bit later, since she's doing a charity event.
When J.Law and Ellen see RuPaul, they all rush in for a big hug. "Who'da thunk we'd do two Thanksgivings in a row together, Ru? Oh my god do you remember what happened last year?" Ellen yells, and my heart pretty much explodes with excitement. And this is only the beginning! I make a sign and leave the door unlocked, so my other fabulous celebrity friends can just let themselves in while I cook. This is going well, three hours until the turkey is done and the guests are already arriving. I grab the peeler back from RuPaul and set the three of them to making a salad.
All of a sudden, someone bearhugs me from behind as I'm setting the potatoes to boil. "Did someone say... Thanksgiving?" James Earl Jones says and time stops, because it's James Earl Jones and his voice is as beautiful as God himself saying I make the best stuffing he's ever had. Half an hour later we all come out of our James-Earl-Jones'-voice-induced reverie and get back to cooking. The potatoes are soft and ready to be mashed, and I grab the marshmallows to have them at the ready. Jennifer Lawrence passes me a glass of wine, and I take a second to sit down.
Snoop Dogg and Stephen Fry walk in together, talking about homosexuality in hip hop. Stephen Fry comes over and gives me a kiss, peering at the panoply of half-prepared dishes in front of him and exclaiming in delight, "I know it might be unbecoming for an upright British citizen to be attending a celebration of America's escape from our genteel tyranny, but I have brought an Eton Mess to bring a tinge of aristocracy to this meal," he says. "Although, something tells me you might like Snoop's dessert a bit more."
Snoop Dogg grins, holding up what looks to be a chocolate cake with a very interesting aroma. "Yeyuh, I uh... did bring a cake, but this is a special cake, if ya know what I mean," he says and literally all of us know what he means. I silently thank the powers that be for not inviting my parents this year; not sure how well this special Thanksgiving treat would have gone over with them. "Thanks, Snoop, I'm sure it'll be a very novel end to the Thanksgiving meal," I say, but he frowns a little bit before saying a bit icily, "I know it's yo Thanksgiving and all, but it is Snoopzilla now." I apologize for my mistake and baste the turkey before finishing the sweet potato mash.
Jake Gylenhaal then runs in, and holds up a bag. "Leave it to your token Jewish friend to bring the menorah!" he says, pulling out a gorgeous set of candles and a seriously huge menorah. I had almost forgotten that Hannukah coincides with Thanksgiving this year, so I give him a "thanks for honoring our heritage" make-out sesh, because I must've forgotten to mention that we're dating and he's so great at remembering the little bits that I forget. All the guests are here and the food is almost ready, so we all set the table together and sit down.
The meal itself is a blur of laughter, great food and memories that passes all too quickly. Jennifer Lawrence, RuPaul, Stephen Fry, Ellen DeGeneres, James Earl Jones, Snoop, Jake Gyllenhaal and I promise to do this again next year, but no one stays too long because we're all insanely high from a combination of the turkey's tryptophan and Snoopzilla's cake, so we all part ways to sleep off our holiday meal. It's been a glorious Thanksgiving, and I reflect on how lucky I was to spend it with my favorite celebrity friends as I drift off to sleep.
