Christmas was uneventful. My dad made me white russians that tasted like gasoline in a good way and my mom cooked until we were stuffed to the gills. My brother and I stayed up late punching each other and watching adult swim. Chad came over and played Risk with my Dad and endured hours of trash talk. It was all in a house that wasn't really mine anymore. Boo on growing up.

Went out with all the girls, went home early because Downers Grove turned into an M. Night Shyamalan movie. Crazy fucking fog. I felt like I was driving through a glass of milk.

Im'd with Alex for like 2 hours. It felt like we were 16 again. I might actually succumb and hang out with him. It's been like two years. And I have this very distinct feeling there was a good reason we stopped hanging out, just like every other time we've stopped hanging out in the last 10 years, but oh well, off to my doom.