The day after Christmas.

It's about curling up on the couch with a fleece blanket, dipping left-over ginger bread in homemade whipped cream. It's about braving the mall traffic for sales and last-minute shopping for friends. It's about anticipating New Year's Eve, the next big party.

Typically, New Year's Eve is lame for me. I suppose it's because I'm not 21. Last year was great, visiting Melissa in Rhode Island and celebrating the new century in the freezing-cold Providence, gazing at a never-ending fireworks display. This year should be even better. I'm really quite psyched. I feel like I should be nervous or a little worried about flight delays and getting along with Candice and Ben for a pretty solid block of time. But I'm just totally grinning like a goofball at the thought of spending the holiday weekend in my favorite place in the country and with two people who are really my newest friend, but to whom I feel the closest.

Rock on.

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