I have retreated the party to blog for some reason. Maybe it's because it's a lot of the same people from last week's party, and I was greeted at the door with an offer of scotch from the man who picked me up off that kitchen floor last week. I'm in the apartment where I got sick. I've had two cups of pink lemonade, and, even though it's a friend's birthday, I feel like going home and watching MY FAIR LADY. I feel fine tonight. I look cute. I just am unsure over whether I want to be "on" and chat up new people. I want to go home and listen to music. I want to go home and write.
Some people I badmouthed on New Year's while issuing my declarations from the kitchen floor are looking at me funny tonight. I don't blame them.
I look good tonight, but I feel like crawling into a hole. Or I feel like only talking to the people I already know.
I forgot that this party was even going on until a couple hours ago.
I want to go home.
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