So my friend K came to visit this weekend. It really is nice to be able to hang out with someone who knew all your stupid stories, knew about all the bad boyfriends and booty calls, and still hops on a plane to spend a weekend hearing you retell all the same damn stories about the same damn bad boyfriends over pizza and red wine. And if you happen to drink two bottles of prosecco in one evening of aforementioned weekend, well then that's just bonus.


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