Thanks.

Thanksgiving!
I know I'm like four days late. But I've been sick. Give me a break.

You have to understand something about my family. We're weird.
A couple of years ago our Thanksgiving dinner consisted of everyone's favorite food.
What are a few things we had? Pudding. Egg rolls. Chips and salsa. Oranges. Horchata (my contribution). Dr. Pepper. Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches. Swedish fish. Ribs. And much more.
Exciting huh?
Another year we had Thai food. SO good.
So this year, we took it back to 1621 and had a good ole' pilgrim and native american feast.
We went over to my Aunt and Uncle's house and ate our heart's out.
My favorite foods?

My mother's yams. Holy. They are from heaven.

And, my G-Ma's Rolls.
Actually, it was my grandpa that made them. But my grandma likes to take the credit. Strangely enough I approve of her selfish actions. Probably because I know that's how it's going to go down when I'm old and married. (If I do get married and I'm not a nun.)
Also. My dad's side of the family has this small obsession with bums. So I thought this photograph was very appropriate. Not only am I showcasing the rolls. I am also showing off bums. You're welcome.

I love my family.
And I like to express that in a way of cuddling.
Christen, my cousin is like an older sister to me. Unfortunately for me, she does not like to cuddle.

You don't understand how long it took me to get here.
I'm a lover. She's a fighter. Slowly I am changing that though.

Enough about Thanksgiving.

As you know. I was very sick yesterday.
It was gross how sick I was.
Miraculously I feel a ton better today. Did I tell you that both my parents were sick yesterday too? Crazy.
So I wasn't able to go to church today, because I'm kind enough to think of other people, and their healthy bodies. I'm like a saint or something.

I absolutely hate being sick. Is there anybody that actually enjoys it?
I feel like I'm always sick though. There is something wrong with me, all the stinking time.

Being sick stops me from leaving the house. And I'm a pretty social person. I hate being cooped up at the house. Thank goodness for friends. They are what kept me sane yesterday. One of my favorite kids in the entire world, Bryce, texted me, I swear all day. His constant nagging about me going to bed and getting sleep so I could be healthy, made me giggle and kept me entertained. Obviously, I needed sleep, and I got some! I just liked talking to him better than trying to sleep while feeling nauseous. 

Texting a boy that you are completely infatuated with VS. lying in bed staring at your ceiling thinking about vomiting. Which one would you pick? 

Ya. I thought so. 

Another dear friend Nathan. Brought me cookies. Ohhh Nathan. Regrettably I ate one. They were pumpkin chocolate chip cookies! Hello? My favorite kind. He now calls himself the cookie monster. Am I surprised? No, no I am not.

Shoot. I feel kind of sick all of the sudden.
Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Hopefully it's nothing.
But knowing me, I'll go down stairs, and complain to my mother. And exaggerate about how I'm going to die... But I'm not going to die. Don't worry.

Death is NOT knocking on my door.
-Drama queen.

EW.

I'm about to barf so I'm going to type very very fast.

You should see my fingers they are moving at about a million miles an hour.

Actually you can't even see them they are moving so fast.

So here's the situation.

I woke up around nineish. Felt sick. Ran into my bathroom and vomited.

This has happened seven times!

SEVEN TIMES!

I am repulsed by myself.

Oh. I just heard my little brother take a hard hit down the stairs. BUT I can't do anything because any fast movement could result in gross things that are unspeakable.

Right now my body feels jut like it was hit by a truck.

Seriously, typing this is hurting my forearms. Is that normal?

No. It isn't.

And I'm shaking. This is not fun.

Not only do I feel like poo. I look like it too.

My hair is in a bun on top of my head.

I have no make up on.

And let's just say my clothing is not choice.

I love it!

I wish I could dress like this everyday and not care! But I do care. But not that much. Because if I did care more than I normally do I wouldn't be wearing jeans and a sweatshirt everyday. But hey! Jeans and sweatshirts are the most comfortable way to go.

I like my body and my face.

And I am not one of those girls that need compliments to make themselves feel better. I know I am not perfect. Heck. I have three zits the size of my dad's head on my face. I sometimes feel too fat. And I have man hands. But, I have embraced all of these odd things. They make me who I am. And I would never trade that for anything.

I know this is a small post. And I apologize for that. But I don't want vomit all over my keyboard. Do you?

Wish me luck!

-Sickey.