January 20

I was planning to update this journal to give my thoughts on Gaara's birthday party yesterday.

The operative word being YESTERDAY.

However, it has taken me until this afternoon, aka the day after, to update this thing, which is running out of pages, might I add.

You wanna know why?

I got WASTED last night.

Absolutely hammered. . . Lights out drunk.

Yeah . . . turns out that not only was the punch bowl spiked with vodka and sake last night, Kankuro managed to convince the baker we hired to bake the birthday cake to switch out the vanilla extract with more vodka.

I didn't know about the switch in ingredients at the time, so I, along with every single person that attended Gaara's party last night, got drunk off cake and punch.

When I woke up, not only did I wake up with the biggest hangover I have ever experienced in my life . . .

. . . I woke up in just my underwear . . .

. . . in Shikamaru's arms, who was also in just his underwear . . .

. . . in Gaara's bed . . .

. . . with a huge hickey on my neck.

Talk about pleasant surprises.

When I walked out the room, I walked into a house filled with our hungover guests, catching z's anywhere and everywhere.

I ended up finding Gaara sharing the top of the kitchen island with Naruto, both sleeping soundly under a tablecloth back-to-back as if they were doing it for years.

It was so cute, you wouldn't believe it.

Anyway, I didn't remember much from the party last night, but I did remember that Kankuro was the one that helped cause this mess, so I went looking for him.

I ended up finding him in the backyard in just his briefs, hugging one of Gaara's cacti to himself.

I think he humped it a few times, but I don't remember it well.

He had a camera right next to him, so I took it, checked the footage, deleted the most embarrassing shots that involved me and Shika, and then took a photo of him before taking shots of everyone else in the building.

Yes, considering that some of the guests are members of the Suna Council, and that others were influential members of the village, of course I'm going to use these shots for blackmail.

What can I say?

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Your hangover-addled author,

Temari