Everyone has a hickey but me.

Sometimes, your checkout girl at Blockbuster has a hickey and you think it’s gross and stupid. 
Sometimes, your older sister’s friend has a hickey and you think it’s gross and stupid. 
Sometimes, you overhear the bag boys at Ralph’s talking about how they gave their girlfriends hickies and you think it’s gross and stupid. 
Sometimes, your friends all get hickies from boys on this one certain week and you think it’s gross and stupid. 
But you’re also kind of jealous. 
And then you wonder if you should blog more about the subject as to explain your thinking so you don’t come off as a total weirdo. 
But then you’re like, no, I don’t need to explain myself. 
I want a hickey. And you’re just going to have to understand that that’s all I’m willing to say about it right now. 
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This has been posted purely as a benchmark for the historical timeline of my life, to be later catalogued and sold as a memoir. 
Working titles include but are not limited to: 
“The World Goes on Dates as Julia Plays Ping Pong”
“Dinner Plans with Grandparents: The Julia Patton Story”
“Self Pity: A Lifestyle Choice” 

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