Dear Diary,
Ok. I'm officially in Miami b***h. I flew through the night after eating the dinner my mother in law made. I didn't grab a big plate, but it got me through. Well that plate and and extra helping of peach cobbler. I got into Miami at 3 am PST without any chance to work out. Plus this place has no scale. I'm not gonna have any idea what I weigh until Sunday. Oh well. I didn't really come here to lose weight. That doesn't mean I came here to gain though. Huh? Why am I here? That's a stupid f***ing question. I'll have to think of an answer later. Much later.
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