A Good Year

New Year's is the only time of year this dress ever comes out of the closet. The last time I wore it was two years ago.


Actually, the last time I wore this winning combination, I woke up with a broken toe. I left the house vowing not to make the night a repetition of two years prior.

As soon as I got to Brie & Mark's place, Brie took one look at my outfit and told me, "Jess, you're not going to fall down any stairs, are you? I think those shoes are cursed." Then she handed me a glass, making me promise not to break it. It's always good to be pegged at the klutzy one at the house party.

Happy New Year!

I feel like ever since the 2006 Year of the Rash resolution (also known as Year of the Beard) there's a lot of pressure on me to come up with original resolutions.

So I've decided that that 2008 will be year of the recreational drug use.

Haha. Just joking. Don't get your panties in a knot. I've actually decided it's going to be a year of achievable resolutions, and recreational drug use is counter-productive to many of my actual resolutions.

I hereby resolve to start highland dancing again, to graduate from university and to get a somewhat meaningful or enjoyable, decent-paying job in the next year.

This was a patented Tristan dance. This photo was taken right around 1 a.m., which is when the dance party broke out.

Brie exchanged footwear for ultimate dancing comfort--something you can't get any with at a club.

And Court started spilling her drinks everywhere.

She claimed it wasn't her. But we saw her do it.



Do I really look like this when I dance? I'm a little scared.

Last picture of the night: Court spilling more stuff.

It's going to be a good year.