This morning I had a dream that we were babysitting Jessica's oldest boy. We watched him all day, and then when the time came for him to be picked up, they drove into the yard in a Giant Truck, and I panicked. What was I going to say to her? "She's so awesome", and "why the heck did she let me watch her kid in the first place and I hope she's not expecting me to talk about interesting things or, you know, be coherent", and I freaked out a little bit. Plus, for some reason I was not wearing a bra, and I was extremely self-conscious. But! Instead of putting on a bra, I really wanted to talk to her, so I decided to go outside and talk anyway.
(Side note: One time when I was just barely "blossoming", I'd say around twelve years old, my brother and I went to see Beauty and the Beast in the movie theater. We were getting our snacks when I noticed I was feeling weird. Something wasn't right. It took me a few minutes, but right when we were picking out our candy I realized that I wasn't wearing a bra. I was sure that everyone could tell and was thinking to themselves, "What a sloppy little girl, she's probably a slut, she should know better!" and generally gave myself a meltdown about it all. Really, what sort of asshole would think that about a little girl going to see a Disney movie? Really? And what kind of perv is looking at my twelve-year-old nubbins to begin with? That's just sick. But it's been a sort of background terror for me ever since. I'm not exactly built to go braless.)
So, I went outside to talk to Jessica and meet the rest of the family, and right then my mom and dad pull up and Bruce comes outside and they all start talking and I'm too terrified of being boring or someone noticing that I'm not wearing a bra that I don't say anything so as not to draw attention to myself and - how silly is this whole thing? - that's what I do.
Then I woke up.
In a fit of list-checking-off, I go to Google Reader to get through over 50 posts that I haven't read yet. I get to Kerflop and merrily read my way through a few posts and have to blink a few crazy times and do various tests to make sure I'm not dreaming and there you go. She linked to my blog in her sidebar. How crazy is that?
I love you, internet.