I spoke to my (drunk) boyfriend (and his drunk friends) and drank tea from a cute white plastic mug with dine-ee-saurs on it and stood in the dirt in my sox looking up at the stars and drowned in the serenading of Donavon Frankenreiter. And I'm happy again.

I described 'Our Love' (by Donavon) to a friend as "a night on the beach with a bonfire and watching shooting stars and playing stupid games in the dark running around until you fall over and then running into the water and screaming because it's so cold, and then taking off clothes and trying to throw them to shore and then they float away and are lost forever but you're too hysterical to care..." and then you wrap yourself up in towels and sit by the fire until it gets too cold and then it's time for slipping into sleeping bags with lovers or friends and feeling newly warmed skin against yours.

Emotional rollercoaster. It's what being 17 and not entirely sane is all about. And I'd like to think I do it with class.