Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl.

It really wasn't my fault what happened at Katherine's Christmas party. It was Victoria who spiked the punch with too much Pink Lemonade. I can't help it if I drank 400 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like baking bread.

I thought it was funny when I put Sarah's scarf on my head and danced the conga on the sofa while singing `jailhouse rock'. I didn't mean to break Katherine's PSP and don't know why Katherine would sue me for shoplifting.

I don't remember calling gavin's wife a tearful horse---even though she looked like one with blue eye shadow and peach lipstick!

And when I threw up on joanna's husband's little finger, it was only because I ate too much of that ice cream.

After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my ferrari through my neighbor's living room. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a dainty rat and have me arrested for mugging!

So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all stupid and sad. And I'm really not to blame for any of this funniest stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!

Sincerely and dangerously yours,
Zara (Really a nice girl!) P.S. It's only 13 bucks!