Why is my self portrait a horse (or, more accurately, the horse's ass)?
Let me tell you a story. Last night Jeremy and I are getting ready for bed (no, it's not that kind of story). He kind of gets in my way, like he wants a hug or something. So I go to give him a hug and he moves back a little and turns his head side to side, and looks up, staring at me the whole time. So I'm all, dude, what are you doing? And he's all, "if I was a chick, I'd be very upset right now." (and I'm thinking, if you were a chick, I'd totally be a lesbian, and how the hell did you impregnate me 4 years ago??). And he's still kinda looking up so I look at the ceiling, and I'm all, what? Is there something on the ceiling? Are there spiders? There had better not be any spiders, and he puts his hands on his face. Then I'm all Oh. My. God. You freaking shaved!! And he's all, "see? You don't even notice these things." Hey - I notice things. Just apparently not the obvious things.
So, we've been together for 10 years. 10 YEARS. And for the whole 10 years he's had a goatee. Duuuuuuuuuude, he shaved off his goatee and I didn't notice!
So I'm an oblivious horse's ass.
But I'm still awesome.