2004-12-19 || 1:30 p.m.

|| o the season of the holiday parties. and. not to kiss and tell or anything: ||

actually. i am terribly congested thanks to the cold that has re-emerged in a most vindictive fashion from staying up late and running around without a coat and smoking a few cigarettes on the balcony and i didn't get much sleep at all and i hope you don't mind my saying that i am hungover (present-shopping plans for today look kind of shot) and my lips hurt awful bad, actually, from surprise serious make-out sesh that took place sometime early this morning. there's some kind of bruise-y action that in all my kissing years i have never quite experienced before. brian looked at it last night and exclaimed, 'it's a conTUSion!' all excited-like and i sat at the kitchen table at 3:30 in the morning with an ice pack on my lip while brian and becky ate english toffee all late-night-golden-girl-cheesecake-bonding style.
it's just that i got very, very drunk last night. in name of holiday parties everywhere. and there was something about whisky shots and homemade holiday cards and i don't know what i spent my time doing. standing in line for the bathroom and watching hot boy-on-boy mistletoe action and trying not to click high heels on hardwood floor too loudly and then something about being in a tiny room with voices in the kitchen and pressing onto heavy coats and trying not to damage the guitar to my right on the bed.
oh snap.

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