Turkey Days at school

This Thanksgiving I am at my apartment in Berkeley. My roommate is with me. The other two are gone. J and I are positively ecstatic to have it to ourselves. But that's another story. So why am I not at home? On this 4-5 day weekend? Why am I not waking up in my own bed as the sunlight streams through my dusty curtains and hits my pile of mail that has been accumulating since June? Yes, June. That was the last time I was at home. Why am I not getting a waft of that turkey that I will not eat anyway (but I'm sure my parents will try to get me to eat it). No, that's another story too.
One of the great things about being 2,000 miles out-of-state is that you get real familiar with how much a flight should cost. And I know that $800 (though I'm sure rates did not stop there) is ridiculous for a flight home and I'm not going to take it. As much as I enjoy dead bird, I'm afraid I'll have to pass.