You know you have bad posture when people start telling you in Spanish to stand up straight.

Also, the people at church this morning kept looking at the welts and scrapes covering my left arm.

I didn't volunteer the fact that I tripped on a rock, fell flat on my face into four lanes of oncoming traffic as my life flashed before my eyes, and broke a bag of milk (yes, that's how they sell it here), which soaked my clothes.

I don't know that much Spanish yet.

But I think if they ask, I'll tell them my boyfriend beats me.

But I still love him.

betholindo at 7:28 p.m.

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