Well, it’s Thanksgiving again. Where did the year go? Each year goes faster than the last. I hope it doesn’t keep up this pace. If it does, by the time I’m 80, a year will pass with a blink!
This year, as with the previous years, Mr. Bug and I will be spending Thanksgiving with our friends and their families. We’ve been going to Krisy and Ricky’s for about 6 years now. I can’t believe it’s been that long. Before that, I either made way too much food at the house or we spent Thanksgiving at the Brass Rail, where I used to tend bar. They put on a big spread for the lonely and alone. We weren’t lonely, just alone.
Being a transplant from Texas means that I only spend about one holiday with my family every couple of years or so. That completely sucks, but at least I have good friends that have adopted
my cooking skillz me and let me cook for eat with them. I hope I don’t have to use my passport next time I go home for the holidays. Stupid secession.
This year, for the second year, my best friend from Pennsylvania, Stacey, will be joining all us Maryland rednecks for Thanksgiving. She’s bringing her husband and two sons. She had such a relaxing time last year she decided to come back. Her extended family is hyper and nutso, but in the best possible way. Every now and then, Dan and I venture up to northern Pennsylvania to visit them and we’re exhausted by the time we get in the car to come back to Maryland.
So, on behalf of me, because I don’t speak for anyone else, I’d like to extend my hope that you have a fantastic, wonderful, full-of-food Thanksgiving. I know I’m going to! Last year, I was recovering from surgery, so I got to sit on my ass all day and drink mimosas. I was also constipated because of the pain pills. This was my glass:
I hope it says something different this year. I have a feeling it won’t, though. Because even if I’m not full of literal shit, I’m definitely full of figurative shit. I am from Texas, after all.