Friday, September 16, 2005



Last night, I was depressed, so I decided to go for a walk until I tired myself into calming down, and ended up being out for two hours. I didn't even quit because I calmed down, but because my feet started to hurt. So, that wasn't an entirely successful venture.
It did lead to one interesting moment. As I was walking up a Fairfax, a homeless guy leaning against a building about 20 feet up ahead yelled, "Hey Clark Kent". A few seconds later, as I got a little closer, he amended it to "Clark Kent's Girlfriend."
For those few seconds, though, did he really think I was a boy? I don't think I look very boyish, though I mean, I wasn't wearing a dress on my walk, obviously, and my hair was up... I haven't been mistaken for a boy since I was 8 years old, when I insisted on having all my hair chopped off (so I wouldn't have to go through the torture of having all my tangly curls brushed through) and then being a skeleton for Halloween. Those old ladies with candy were making a reasonable mistake, though. The homeless guy does not have such a good excuse.
So, apparently, on top of all my other problems, I look like a boy.

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