Tiny horses. (We used tiltshiftmaker.com to make the horsies miniature and cute. Try it.)
Kurt and I were invited to spend the day at the racetrack. We had a swell time at Churchill Downs, betting on horses, eating hot browns and sipping on fancy drinks. It was all very glamorous and not at all typical. It seems very reckless to throw money at chance, all while making a big to-do about it, peering down on the track with a cocktail in your hand. It's like having a New Orleans funeral for your money, with a parade and a big brass band. But I speak from a long line of compulsive gamblers, most notably my father, who has a tragic penchant for the underdogs. Perhaps I've evaded the family losing streak. We did, after all, return with 25 more dollars. All of which was promptly spent on burritos.
A rare glasses-wearing, long haired version of myself. Dorky smile, as always.