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2003-12-31 | 5:17 a.m.
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Rah rah, blah blah, yawn

i'm dangerously close to spending new years alone with the Justin Timberlake album. Yeah, the boy roomies invited me to a party, but seriously, the last time i spent new years with near strangers, it was the most horrid experience ever culminating on the first morning of 2002 with me taking 2 nodoz and having a 5 hour panick attack in the Port Authority bowels unable to get on a bus or do little more than walk my luggage around a pole trying not to puke or pass out or scream.

I couldn't even go to a party last year, i sat at home, much to the annoyance of all my friends. I climbed out of my bedroom window out on the dark back porch, ice cold, but no snow, smoking a cigarrette when i heard distant, muffled screams and i knew the new year had come.

So, yet again, i'm in a strange new city and my good time is dependent on me, because i'm sure as hell not going to expect anything special out of the guy i like or any of these people i barely know. Especially since they've all known each other since they were like 2. But, fuck it, i'm wearing tropical pants, i guess i should go out.


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