Saturday, December 17, 2005



Went out to dinner and to the movies with my roommate tonight. On the way into the theater, I was, as is frequently my habit, obsessing about a comment the boy made to me. This time, it was in regards to the punch I got from him last night. I had told him afterwards that I thought it was going to bruise, and since he was going away, that I would take a picture of it for him. And he, oh so charmingly, replied that he would prefer I not give him pictures of any of my body parts.
So, of course, I was ranting about why he feels the need to make comments like that, to discourage me from things I was never going to do anyway. Me being me, I was expressing this in a somewhat crude manner. Fortunately, I had just finished up my venting, when I looked up and saw one of his bandmates with his girlfriend. Thank goodness I hadn't carried on any longer, or they certainly would have heard me. It was awkward enough to be ignored by them (when I have met them several times), but it would have been worse if they were listening to me while I was discussing the likelihood that I would ever photograph my boobies as a present for the boy.
I know I talk a lot. It's how I process things. Clearly, though, I need to be more careful about the talking I do in public. It is a major recipe for embarrassment.

No one should be hitting you, especially someone whom you might love. Love might break your heart, but it should not leave physical brusies.
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