October 5

Post-birthday party

Number of aspirin swallowed: 6

Number of aspirin promptly regurgitated: 6 (though in pieces, along with coffee)

I seem to have lost my glasses, one of my shoes, and my pink underwear. Chances are good that they are a) on dance floor of Club Compression, b) in backseat of Xu's car, c) on dance floor of Club...something or other, or d) on someone else entirely.

Am going to murder Xu in most horrendous fashion.

I'm firmly convinced that homicide should not be illegal if the victim in said homicide has clearly asked to be gutted.

When she asked me last week how I would like to celebrate my birthday, I distinctly remember telling her that I wanted to have a quiet dinner with my friends, maybe some cards or a movie.

Apparently I am not fluent in Xulish because quiet dinner translates to body shots and cards or a movie translates to being tied to pole in strip club with my own whip.

How she even got that weapon past security is a mystery, and she is not talking about it this morning. At least she is suffering just as much as I am, though she is still wearing all of her clothes.

Oh...wait. Strike that.

She is wearing all of Selphie's clothes, which is rather entertaining, since Selphie insisted on wearing that top with the strategically sliced openings to the bar last night.

Well, to the first bar, anyway.

Will wake rest of girls when head stops swimming. Must wake Rinoa now, though. At least drag her to bed so I can run to toilet without falling on her again. Also must apologize for bruise on her arm when sober. Didn't mean to step on her, but it really is her fault for passing out on bathroom tiles.

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Note: Please note that there will likely be no plot at all with this fic. It's just going to be a series of fictional diary entries written in the style of Bridget Jones' Diary. Meh. *shrugs* I was bored.