del.i.cious.

I found this picture of my buddy Ozzie and I from Wednesday's party as I was trying to upload for Penelope who's been hounding me like a dog in heat to email them her way. I'd just like to point out that a) I still don't recognize myself with bangs and am considering growing them back out, b) I am making a duck face and it's not even on purpose because I was housed and c) I spilled tons of gravy on that beautiful leather dress and I didn't even eat at the party. TRAGEDY.

Also, this is what the turkey looked like when I went to go try it the next morning.

I have to be honest... I've written about five posts since Wednesday but haven't been able to bring myself to publish them as I've been incredibly keen on the fact they've sucked. It's 1:00 a.m. here in the furnace that is Miami and I've been working all weekend at the airport serving vodka to strangers. I'm allowed to drink with the customers if I damn well please but ever since Wednesday night the thought of liquor makes me woozy.

Irony... What a bitch.

I might as well come out and warn you that the month of December may be irregular as far as my posting is concerned. You guys know the deal so it really doesn't bear repeating but I'll say it anyway: Famosity is still the number one priority and I love you more than strawberry caipirinhas after a night of acrobatic sex. The thing is, two people I care deeply about have asked me to go on vacation and although I'm still considering it there's a possibility I may spend some time away from this town. This means I'll be torn away from the internet and computers and blogging and you, my precious. I'm also turning twenty-eight in December and it's inevitable I will party until my eyes bleed vodka and my pores seep champagne but don't worry, this is normal.

Then of course we have Christmas and although my parents and I don't really celebrate in the traditional manner, we do eat way too much pork and other Cuban food that leaves me in a coma induced state for days on end. I've been having a recurring dream where I'm slipping on a moving bus and it's raining all around me and there's massive gold coins which I keep trying to pick up but as soon as I stuff them in my pockets my pants fall off and I'm naked. Then a massive snake appears and it starts to swallow me but instead of feeling scared I'm delighted and you'll never believe what happens after... It's too embarrassing to tell.

This drivel is precisely what the other five posts were like only they talked about filet mignon and mom haircuts (why do women over thirty insist on giving themselves these after bearing children?). All I know is if we could get through December in one piece then I assure you we'll come out on top and everyone knows how much fun being on top really is.

You know what's awesome?

I'm going to go eat some now and pretend this post never happened.