pretty mess

hi, everyone - welcome to 2011. i'm avoiding exclamations in an attempt to keep my "voice" down; if the rest of y'all are as bleached-feeling as we are tonight, you'll appreciate it.

oh, what a party. i find that there's no better way to send out a year like 2010 than to flash back to how i behaved as an 18-year-old undergraduate. read: wine. champagne. more wine. more champagne. dancing in a giant pack with a bunch of random girls i'd never met before. dancing with my "i do NOT dance" boyfriend, drunkenly belting out lyrics to songs i didn't even know he knew. taking scandalous pictures in which i at least look good.

and then, as all these things eventually do, things took a turn. indulgence becomes excess, and excess brings consequence. as a result, it's a saturday night in a major city, with fun events everywhere, and i am mainlining red gatorade like it's the water of life. we're in bed. i have his scrub pants on, for god's sake. we tried an outing to go see a basketball game; after a quick dinner out, it was apparent that this adventure could not continue. it was damned from the start.

but you know what? it was FABULOUS. all of it - my lack of sleep, making sure the man was still breathing; the joy that is blue-cheese dip that's been left out all night; realizing that the trash was full before the party started, etc., etc., etc. - was so worth it. we had fun. we enjoyed each other's company. we threw our hands up in the air sometimes, sang hey-o, let go, celebrated and lived our lives. and really, that's what it's all about.

now if you'll excuse me, i'm a little woozy, and the man needs more ginger ale. time to go back to bed. and would you hit that light? it's giving me a headache again. thanks.