I think my stomach exploded

I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. I, for one, am still feeling kind of sick. I don't think the human body is meant to consume that many mashed potatoes in one sitting, but I do love me some mashed potatoes. With butter. And gravy. Mmm. I think I may be sick, excuse me.

I also doubt the intelligence of drinking a bunch of wine BEFORE dinner when all you've had to eat that day was a bowl of cereal, but hey, that's the way we do things in my family. And really, if you get kind of drunk before dinner you don't have to worry about a hangover because you'll be sober as soon as you eat those ten rolls* that will soak up all that wine.

It seems that pretty much everyone in my family, with the exception of my Grandma (thank you, baby Jesus), has found this blog, even my young, innocent, very impressionable cousins. One of whom found this by Googling my name, which, hmm, maybe I should fix that. But that means going back through all of my old entries, finding my last name and deleting it or changing it to something less conspicuous like "Smith," "Jones," or, well, anything else.

I kept joking that I needed to change my website address so I could start writing about my deep, dark secrets but the more I thought about it, I realized that I don't really have any deep, dark secrets.

Yet. I'm still young.

*I did not really eat ten rolls, but I think one of my cousins did