What Not To Wear

I was talking to my best friend today. She told me she'd been reading my blog (one of the few ways we keep up with what's going on with each other). When we started talking about the Norwegian, I mentioned that it was pretty devastating that he didn't call to see how I was doing after this natural disaster. She said she was pretty upset about that too. I said that it was tough having my heart broken (yet again) but after talking to my father on Friday, I was okay. In the end, there was a huge positive that came out of meeting him: Espen cured me of jack@$$ for life! She was happy about that. I told her that Marcelle (my friend from Brazil) told me yesterday that she'd burned a cd of the pictures I took in Norway. I said, "You know Marcelle, in light of what's happened, I'm not even sure I want to see those pictures." My friend in TX (Char) said I should want those pictures and the memories so I don't make the same mistakes again. I thought that was poignant. I told Marcelle that I'm not sure I'll ever tell another man, "I love you" because of the way Espen took it. My best friend said he may have a limited understanding of the English language, misunderstood what I said, and cautioned that I should be more careful about "guarding my heart" in the future. I reminded my best friend that marriage & kids was the furthest thing from my mind when I'd said it, with my focus being on the friendship, the intimacy between us. She said she understood but said my broken heart was "what happens when you wear your heart on you sleeve." Now I know what not to wear: my heart on my sleeve, because my sleeves could end up green from the snot I smear on them from whiping my nose on them after crying from a broken heart [and I know my sisters are getting a kick out of that right now when thinking about MAD MAD MOVIES that used to come on WJXT late on Saturday nights while we were growing up].