Bits of tid about the past 36 hours of my life:
- Given that, including stops for gas and food, I usually make the almost-exactly-500 trip between Los Angeles and my folks’ place in Tucson in 7 1/2 to 8 hours, there must’ve been some serious crap going on on the freeways to justify making my trip into an 11-hour ordeal.  It took me 4 hours just to cover the first 90 miles!  It’s official—there are too many freakin’ cars in Southern California.
- I have never had a Frosty at Wendy’s.  There.  I’ve admitted it.  So imagine my surprise when it turned out to be not a shake, but instead a real honest-to-God dairy dessert like it says on the machine.  That said, having collapsed two straws in my initial attempts to suck it out of the drink cup the Wendy’s people put it in, it’s damn hard to drive with two unfrozen fingers while you rocket down the freeway at 85 mph, attempting to eat a Frosty with a spoon in the dark without spilling any on your clothes.
- At 2am, a great way to kill your progress is to see a Ford Crown Victoria pass you on a deserted road, then suddenly whip into a U-turn and catch up to you.  Yes, the cops were looking for blood, but thankfully, I gave them none.  I yanked the emergency brake so he wouldn’t see my brake lights, took it down to the speed limit and let him follow me for a couple miles before he got bored and left me alone.

Despite all that, I have metric assloads of stuff to be thankful for, including loving parents, good friends and a best friend who kicks ass.  And I’m also stuffed full of turkey and stuffing.  I love stuffing.  It’s my absolute favorite part of Thanksgiving.  I hope you had lots as well.

Oh, and before I forget again—to the person who hit my blog 40 times looking for “how to have a merry disco Christmas,” look elsewhere.  I’m Jewish, there will be none of that here.