It's Like We're Our Own Brat Pack

Last night, I met up with friends at our favorite townie bar. Though I don't typically make a habit of going out during the week, this outing was warranted & much-needed. On the anniversary of Dave's death, we needed a little bit of togetherness. It was a motley crew: me, two of Dave's best friend's (one of whom is also my ex-boyfriend), plus said ex-boyfriend's girlfriend, his other ex-girlfriend (kid's got good taste, don't hate), Dave's brother, & other sundry friends from both before & after his death. [And yes, everyone I know has dated everyone else I know & we are one big happy family (finally) & the world should probably be more like us. Small-town holler.]

It was low-key, nothing major. Just us & some Miller Lites & a jukebox we pumped full of mid-'00s emo music, like Onelinedrawing & The New Amsterdams & Rocket Summer & Brandtson. It was exactly what I needed to celebrate the life of someone I loved so much, as well as to celebrate the life of mine that I love so much. And while I promise to stop being blog-cheesy really soon, after all the support you guys showed me on Tuesday's post (THANK YOU!), I couldn't help but share with you how darn happy I was yesterday, on a day when I've normally been an emotional wreck. A sign of the time, perhaps: We're growin' up, & it's not so bad after all.

And no, these pictures sure don't make it look like we're growin' up, I know. But it looks like we're having fun, right?