thanksgiving

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you know when your foot gets stuck in the holes of your ripped jeans when you're putting them on? that just happened to me. i hate it. i'm just trying to get ready to go get fat and my foot decides to slow me down. it doesn't help that my mom and i are 12 minutes late already. i'm wearing this super cute white top with a brown jacket, and obviously ripped jeans.
"BREE COME ON LETS GO" my mom yells. like really loudly. i swear, i think new zealand heard that.
i run downstairs, almost falling must i add, due to my super cute brown boots. they were daniels favorite. he always loved when i wore them. i haven't talked to him since yesterday. it's weird. we usually text / call everyday. i just miss him.
i helped my mom carry the pies into the car and we went on our merry way. fashionably late.

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so i might have eaten ALOT of food. my stomach feels like it's gonna explode. but that's not the worst part. throughout the night, i kept getting asked where daniel was, and why he couldn't make it. it was hard because i just didn't know. so, i decided to text him.

Bree: hey d, how are you? i feel like i haven't talked to you in forever.

Read  11:04pm.

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