I told you I'd try to show all sides of myself, even the bad ones.

Not one of my finer moments last night. A moment of discomfort and irrational humiliation led me to hurt Sara and act like a jackass. It took me a while to let it go and forgive myself.

We were sitting around the table after a wonderful dinner of some sort of cut of pork that Deb got from the carniceria. From exchanging sign language with the Hispanic butcher, it was a cut from the leg of a pig. It was soooo good. Deb cooked it in a port dip with cumin and a bit of red pepper I believe. Anyway, we were sitting around with me and Deb and Jake eating cr�me br�l�e and Sara (who doesn't like cb) reading a magazine or something. Two of the cbs were in big ramekins. Jake and I had those. We finished and Jake and I both started licking around the sides of the ramekins and sort of bonding over our butch need to lick the dessert plate.

Jake: Bad, can you reach the bottom with your tongue?
Bad: No.
Jake: HA! (and thus shows me that she can)
Sara: HA HAAAA!

And then it becomes a sexual innuendo that since Jake can stick her tongue out farther, then ... well ... I'm sure you get the implication.

Bad: But I wasn't trying to reach. I could probably reach ... [inside voice: shut up, don't respond, don't respond, don't respond, it's the worst thing you could do] ... I just don't want to shove my chin in the ramekin [inside voice: shut up!]

I tried to just sit there and let it drop. I swear I did.

Sara his pretty good at teasing. Hell, we'd all just had a good laugh about how Sara totally has the ruthless Philly Fan gene bred into her. They were just joking around, but I was getting more uncomfortable by the second. The joking was really punching one of my deep buttons (see Badlock for issue that will probably be discussed in the appropriate family meeting).

I handed my ramekin to Jake and told her to knock herself out. I thought that my discomfort had to be obvious. (Deb told me later, when I asked, that she thought I looked uncomfortable, but that she wasn't sure and that I needed to say something next time and not just put out discomfort vibes and expect the girls to pick up on it.) As Jake continued to demonstrate her prowess at cleaning the bottom of a ramekin, Sara kept teasing me, so I stood up grabbed her face as if to force her mouth open, which I would've done if she hadn't been clamping it shut, and told her I could show her how far I could stick my tongue out if she really wanted.

Sara: No, that's okay.

I hurt her lip in the process. She went to the bathroom and came back letting me know that she'd taken abuse photos that didn't look that bad and that it was swelling. She said it really hurt. I apologized. I started to cry. I apologized. I wanted to crawl in a hole. Jake said she hadn't intended the joke to be a joke at my sexual ability. I told her that was bullshit. There really wasn't any other interpretation. No, she said, she really didn't mean it that way, it just kind of turned into that. She came up and put her arms around me. I told her I really needed her not to be touching me. It was rubbing me completely the wrong way. She didn't take her arms away. I told her again that I really didn't want her touching me.

Jake said she would go home then. I told her not to go home, but that I just didn't want her arms around me.

Sara asked if she could put her arms around me and I said okay. She said she'd only been going on for the last little while about her lip because she was going to lead into trying to guilt me (not seriously, understand) into buying her some stamping stuff. I know I really did hurt her lip, though.

I felt like such a shit. The rest of the evening was kind of ruined. I hugged Jake for a long time before she left to let her know (in an unspoken butch way) that we are okay, and I know she didn't really mean it like that.

And that was my evening. Me being an irrational ass and my family forgiving me for it, and me trying to forgive myself later. I think I've mostly done it.

I have embarrassing moments that I will hang on to for the rest of my life and just torture myself with. I think everyone does. When I was a little girl, some boys called me "turkey legs" (I know, it doesn't even make much sense as an insult). I was probably 5 or 6, and even then I considered myself "the fat kid" even though now when I look at pictures of myself at that age, I wasn't even heavy, I just had more meat on me than my skinny best friend. I couldn't run fast enough to catch the boys to pound the crap out of them like I wanted to (in my eyes, because I was fat), and I let them make me cry. I don't know why I can't let go of that memory when it's so easy to forget 95% of the stuff I learned in college.

I'm not going to let last night do that to me. It was nothing. It was a moment of me having a stupid testosterone moment, and I accidentally hurt Sara. It's no big deal to her. I won't let it be a big deal to me.

Now I plan to go on our trip and have a really good fucking time, dammit. I'm not usually chomping at the bit to get out of town as much as Deb is, but this time I am.