Well...At Least I Have The Turkey Trot

This is me in Ely, Nevada.

Population: My relatives and the biker gangs who frequent Hotel Nevada.

Party party partaay.

This is our Thanksgiving getaway.

I come for the 10 pies, homemade rolls, and to keep the good times rolling.

My belly rolls start rolling...what?

Except that this year, my dad has invited his lady-friend...cringe.

No, Cringe is not her name, but I wish it was. I'd feel better about myself.

I haven't met her yet. But now I not only will get to meet her; I'll basically be living with her for two days. My aunt is making her her very own pilgrim table name card.

What's the big whoopty poopty?

This is weird. It's like she's already part of the family. They've been dating for 3 months.

I keep telling myself that I'll just run my feelings away at the little 5k Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving day.

So fast. Running. Fists punching the air. Lungs crippling. Face in pure agony. I'm lightning.

I'll collapse on the finish line, first place of course, collect my winnings, spray gatorade on the crowd of bikers that came to support. I disappear into the wilderness, punch grizzlies and eat berries like I learned from Survivorman. Happy Thanksgiving to me.

But more importantly, Happy Thanksgiving to you!