Dim the Lights, She's Overheating

I spent the last hour detailing what it feels like to truly be hit by someone who actually wanted to hurt you. To be fair, I don't seem to have had as many experiences of this kind as many have, but I also think that because of that the few times I have had--shall we say physical encounters--have stuck in my memory all the better. Because of the way my mind prioritizes information, shucking the useless or the mundane, perhaps I wouldn't remember the exact patterns behind fetal-red light if I had been beaten more than I have.

I was really struck today by how often people lie about their physical prowess. Especially their ability to "kick ass." I went out for crab legs, and after that found myself in a car with several hormonal twenty year old girls and two guys (one of whom had a fairly impressive death-hawk, actually...though I didn't like the color, and his face wasn't really shaped for it). The guys, being in a mode to impress (I've met these guys several times before--they seem intent on proving to me that they could take down anything I could point at. It's an ego boost), regailed me with stories of fights they'd been in.

Everyone was nodding along, and I just sat there asking the most ridiculous questions (Yeah? And when you punched him in the nose, did you hear his brain crunching?) because it was just...obvious to me that these people had never had to defend themselves in their lives. Had never been in a situation where they truly were in danger. Their "fights" were spanking sessions; the kind of half-assed brawling where the worst someone will ever get hurt is maybe a broken jaw.

Usually I'd find it hilarious that they were lying to impress me, but today--it pissed me off.

It was nice to see Stephanie though. And Amy. I like her. And Stephanie's matured a lot. We talked about you. We talked about school. About cosplay, of course. She might have gotten me a job at the Music Cafe for the next month...that would be pretty cool. I kind of wish I was going to be in Damascus longer, a coffee shop would be a really good place to work.

Back to my original subject.

No, perhaps not. Perhaps I don't have anything else to say.

Except, I guess, that I'm well past being the sort of person who lives vicariously through her lies. I should probably be more forgiving of the trait in others, considering it was me.

But it's difficult.

I saw a movie today, with this group of people. Romantic comedy. The Ugly Truth. Pretty terrible. We saw the commercials together. Storybook ending. I don't mind chick flicks, really. I suppose for the same reason that you like shonen-ai. It's nice to think that there could be situations where someone would rescue me from something, would treat me like a woman, someone worth fighting for and winning.

I like the other side too--the striving, the protecting, the dominating when appropriate, the winning--but you know my rant on the subject. And it's good to pretend.