I hate my head. When I rush-write, the words jerk on little knots that I have to stop and smooth and soothe. Goodbye, original word choices that would be good in another context, but not this one, so I'm leaving you for another word choice. (Maybe...maybe we could see each other sometime? There's this really nice hotel...It's difficult, because
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I blame my memory. It's a pretty shady place.
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I can't remember how many times you met her...but she was there the night you, me, Mandy, Jenny, and Amanda were painting our mannequins and watching movies on a laptop in my room.
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It was weird.
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I think I was (was I?) there for the breakdown. Or someone's breakdown, if not hers. Hm.
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