My family doesn't have a well-defined set of Thanksgiving traditions. Growing up with divorced parents, I often divided my time between two Thanksgiving dinners, having the main meal at one house and dessert at another. Things always felt briefly desolate as I was shuttled between the two under the cover of early nightfall, but a slice of pie (or three) put an end to that pretty fast. And I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on spending time with either of my families.
My mom and I usually had dinner at a friends' house, and didn't have to do much of the cooking. (I don't think either of us has ever roasted a whole turkey, unless she did a bunch of turkey-roasting before I was born and neglected to tell me about it.)