I Was Kidnapped By Netflix

Oh Hey!
Sorry, but I'm just now able to pull myself away from the wet dream that is Tim Riggins. 

oh gawd.

I've literally been glued to my Netflix and completely blame my sister/cousins for getting me sucked into this damn Friday Night Lights show. What is it about having an entire series at your finger tips that makes you irrational about watching it. I'm like a strung out Lohan. Every time I finish an episode I'm all "just one more. I'll go to sleep/clean my apt/grocery shop/ be a real life human, after just one more episode." Its gross. I need Netflix rehab.
I'm sorry I've been cheating on you all with 30 year old actors playing 17 year old high school football players. My bad. I apologize.
I spent my weekend at very grown-up Christmas parties. Like, there were children in the basement grown-up parties. I drank wine sensibly, mingled about triathalons, traveling, and babies, was home by 11pm each night and not once did I feel hungover. I even tied a bow around a bottle of champagne as a hostess gift and it didn't look like a 7 year old boy did it. I don't even know who I am any more. 
Let me tell you something about grown-up parties. They are the shit. Holy delicious food and endless supply of alcohol batman! And I'm not just talking some pizza rolls on a serving platter and a handle of Burnetts. I'm talking full on buffets of shit that I'm not even sure I knew what it was, but it tasted like a dream and quality booze that didn't feel like I couldn't be within 3 feet of a match while drinking. This coupled by the fact that I did not have to worry about a.) holding my friend's hair back b.) stumbling in my 4-inch platform booties c.)being cornered by an undesirable drunk male while my GFs are too drunk to save me. 

Adult par-tays = refreshing change of pace.