Grocery shopping yesterday, I crushed my right ring finger in between my eighteen-pound frozen turkey and the side of the freezer case. It's still a little munged up today, sore and bruised. Train Wreck harassed me about it all day long, but I think that any man who agrees to the nickname "train wreck" should not be the one throwing stones.
During my walk back to my apartment this afternoon, something got trapped underneath one of my contacts, and I ended up going most of the way able to see out of only one eye. This is how I spent my freshman year of high school: with only one contact.
You know, I really like it when a band is so good I find myself grinning like a dork through their whole set. It's the reason I go to so many shows. Just a couple more weeks, and I'll get to see them again.
Tomorrow night Band of Horses is playing, and I'll probably be at the White Horse beforehand. Wednesday, I'll start peeling-and-cutting vegetables for Thanksgiving.
For a lot of years, I ate approximately four Thanksgiving dinners. Festivities would be held separately with each parent's and step parent's family, all usually on the same day. By the last stop I'd be in tears, begging them not to make me eat any more. Eventually the gatherings from my dad and my stepmother's families merged, and my mom and ex-stepfather's families pretty much stopped celebrating. Those were some of the best years, the years when forty or fifty of my closest friends and family would invade someone's house and eat until they couldn't argue anymore.
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