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Tarts Galore

I been baking today. Please hold back the gasps of shock and amazement. And no, I didn't start any fires.

Right now, I'm continuing baking what I was baking before tonight's festivities. I have lemon tarts, cream cheese and blueberry tarts, and cream cheese and lemon tarts.

Tonight, I went to a "party". Much like candle parties where you go and look at all the candles and candle holders, gasp at the exorbitant prices, and hand them your credit card. Except, this was noooooo candle party. Myself, being the frightfully boring person that I am at times, bought a little contraption that has knobs on it and it is used to give back massages. And a novelty card game. That's it; no battery operated toys for me.

At any rate, this is not why I'm in a sombre mood. I went back to a friend's place after this gathering, and the two girls I was chatting with have already dipped into the wine and the green herbs. Then stories started.

Of course the topic was about sex. (As a side note, I really do think girls talk about it more than guys do.) Eventually, the conversation turned to "the first time". One girl there was a good friend, and another girl I have seen around in my years of residence. I didn't even know her name. She spoke so openly and frankly, it astounded me. The two girls were so wasted, they laughed at it all. The girl told, in vivid detail, how she was drunk when she was 15 and was raped by two older men.

Then I started thinking (being the only sober one there). I knew this girl before as a "3rd floor whore" back in my first year in University. She was always drunk, and swinging around the wrong guys. Loud, obnoxious, and generally pissed me off. Then I didn't see her for a few years. In those days, I had never stopped to consider why she behaved the way she did.

It made me comtemplate of people surviving traumatic incidents. Of how much I have changed in the past few years. Of how everyone has a story. Of how "those stories" no one usually talks about really exist. Of the cruelty and savagry of people. Of how some people choose wrong methods to deal with their past. Of how I don't have the right to judge those people.

Lots of deep thoughts for a evening that started with vibrating gadgetry.