Indian Food

I'm an asshole. Leah wanted Indian food for dinner and I was "hell no." She seems to really like it, but frankly...it gives me the shits. Indian food isn't all that great to begin with (my opinion) and the fact that it makes me physically ill doesn't help matters. We were going to a movie later (PAN'S LABYRINTH which, despite the moderate gore was actually really good) and I didn't want to be sick halfway through the movie. I never get up to go to the bathroom on airplanes and at the movies. That's right, during the LORD OF THE RINGS and the eight hour flight to Hawaii I HELD IT!!!!!!

Anyway, she has this habit (that runs in the family I've found) that whenever I say I will never do something ("I'm never eating Indian food again") she sees it as some kind of challenge ("I'm going to get him to do something he said he won't ever do"). It pisses me off because it reminds me of her sister...ugh. Anyway, I'm an asshole because I let it color the rest of the night. I feel like Jack Nicholson in AS GOOD AS IT GETS sometimes. I mean well, but I'll be damned if every other thing that comes out of my mouth is horrible.

Anyway, I'm not going to ever eat that poison known as "Indian food" ever again--but I need to figure out how to not be such a prick. I shouldn't air my dirty laundry like this, because it makes me look bad...but sometimes I think if I make my faults more known I'll try harder...that makes no sense I know. Anyway, I dissapoint myself because I sit around all day missing her and thinking about her, and the few hours I spend with her I'm an ass. Go figure.