all your dirty minds are belong to boys

some people just absolutely love and crave attention. i don't really care for that much, especially if it's bad attention. it's probably a good thing i'm resilient from being friends with people who've mocked me enough to build up my protective exterior. to be fair, i've mocked them right back.

so anyway, i have this t-shirt, which wendy designed for a campus crusade epic ministries conference. i did not attend this conference, i just got the shirt because it's from american apparel (which means it's super comfortable and sweatshop-free) and because it looked cute and stemmed from a nifty concept. the concept being that 18 inches is the average distance from your head to your heart, meaning bridging the gap in regards to your faith from mind to heart. unfortunately, this is not how people interpret the shirt. case in point, i wore the shirt today, without any thought to wrongful interpretations, and someone, a dude, asked what my shirt meant. so i explain the conference theme, etc. and he's like, "cool." 15 minutes later, another dude asks about the shirt, and i repeat my explanation. but of course, he decides to share what he thought it might have referred to with the group.* and from there it became a complete scene.

by now, i've explained this conference theme way too many times. one guy said, "oh, it's a real conference?" as if i made it up just to justify an alternative explanation of the shirt that wasn't dirty. seriously people. if i had had a sweatshirt or something, i would've put it on, but of course, it was 90 degrees today and no such luck. i left the table several times to get more food - plus, i thought it might let the whole situation die. again, i was not so fortunate. the guys just thought it was really funny, and really felt the need to ask practically every single other person in the room. that's just awesome. (extreme sarcasm)

i tried to wait it out, but i gave up. i can never, ever, ever wear the shirt again. which is so sad because it is supremely comfortable (and sweatshop-free!).

i couldn't let the embarrassment just be embarrassment. to make the endurance of the whole thing worthwhile, it had to at least become a shared story. public humiliation builds character. yea...that's what i'll keep telling myself.

*no, i will not explain what he thought it meant to you.