epiphanies are good.

It's funny how after Thanksgiving, feeling "hungry" is synonymous with not being uncomfortably stuffed. Like right now I'm thinking, yeah, I could eat dinner. Really, it's just the first time in 36 hours I haven't been in ruthless pain, on the verge of dying from blissful gluttony.

To put everything into perspective, it's about how I feel after a forty-dollar meal of hummus platters, lettuce wraps and a French Kiss martini at Mie N Yu. I like to call it fake full.