And I do think there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.
(nod to Counting Crows)
Anyway, my last post still stands, but I just got a million phone calls from my amazing friends, and man, I am so lucky to have these people in my life.
(This is the part of the blog where the drunk gets all slobbery and maudlin and lovey about her friends and the world and pants and glitter and all, but seeing that I am sober, we'll just blame it on Trazodone, okay? Good.)
Happy new year, everyone. I love the spit out of all y'all, whether I know you well enough for you to catch me when I inevitably fall over my feet (or a curb, or air, or whatever) or if I just know you on the internet.
2009 will bring more silliness, more cat stories, probably more serious stuff, but we never dwell too long on that, do we? No, we have too much ridiculous to document! So on we blindly stagger (okay, that's just me, I left my glasses in the bathroom) and here's to a better year. (And if you had an effing FANTASTIC 2008? Good for you.)
Love you. Mean it. On we go.