I hadn't even thought of that when I simply agreed with her, and it's a slippery slope when you begin lying to your mother
Hee. See, and lately I've been thinking about the slippery slope of kissing. Which is more along your "but that was friendly drunken affections kissing" lines--I mean, I kissed at least three people the other weekend, but found myself thinking later that "Well, only one of them was, like, *personal*". Which. Dude. Tongue in mouth. How is that not personal? I suddenly start to wonder how much of a slut I could become down this slippery slope...
Um, which is to say, I do not tell my parents about any of it. (For that matter, I didn't really mention it to Michelle, who was then in town *last* weekend....um.)
remembering my mom's non-dad kissing history has BUMMED ME OUT.
Dude. You KNOW your mom's non-dad kissing history? I sure as heck don't. And I try to pretend me and my siblings were born via immaculate conception...
I once again vote for more buffistas to move to Portland, because I want to move there. And I want people I know to already be there when I do.
but I keep stumbling across these personal e-mails to women he met off Match.com and shit, and I can't help reading them.
Dude. Don't use your work email for that stuff. Tacky. (I generally avoid using work email for ANY personal stuff, but for match.com?!?! Goes double)
I survived my first year teaching high school!
Whoot! Go Erin!