...I'm thankful that crazy people didn't break into my house in the middle of the night and saw off my legs. I'm thankful I didn't mimic the Oregon Trail and die of dysentery. I'm thankful I wasn't whisked off to an alternate universe where there is so much gravity that everyone moves around like inch worms. If that happened, I wouldn't have gone for a run yesterday morning.
I actually had zero plans for running. It was fucking Thanksgiving. I needed to eat, not run. But, the dog needed a walk and my legs were tight from the previous day's track sprints. I wanted to run.
It was foggy and rainy. And the crotch on my pants were weird. They're always weird. The pants in general are weird. The front is some rain proof fabric, and the back is fleece. They work very well, keeping my legs dry and my butt warm. But, the crotch looks funny. I don't like the way it looks. It's a good thing it doesn't rain often in L.A.
Yes, I'm wearing the exact same workout outfit as the day before. So? I tried to pack light. And no one wanted to run with me, so I'm the only one who had to smell myself.
I have no idea.
Still no idea.
I still have nothing. I may have a problem taking pictures of myself, but you folks are the ones who keep coming here to look at them. So, yeah. Enjoy my stupid face.
This was my Thanksgiving dinner, aka the food that sat in my stomach causing me pain and making me want to throw up. The upside was, people across the country unknowingly felt what I feel after every meal.
At least I enjoyed eating. I love turkey.
Imagine buffalo wings made from turkey instead of chicken. Hot damn.
Today I'm visiting my dad at a spa, then taking a wine train dinner tour thing? I don't drink wine, so I'll be playing sober driver, and passing my wine off to my husband, so I can get him drunk and make fun of him.