My flabber is completely gasted. Forrest came down today and we went to Midwest Mountaineering's spring expo. Naturally, we had to run into Drew. Fecking arsehole bastard. Me? I was civil, if cool, to him. Kelly L. showed up, and a giant group of us stood around talking and I was polite and not murderous. He and his poor fiancee had to leave, so he went around hugging everyone good-bye, including ME. Me? I was not so happy with this.

Why the fecking hell would you hug someone who is actively giving off an aura of "I'm tolerating you because I respect my friends, but you're not counted amongst them"? I'm not a touchy person to begin with, and you'd think that, given that the last time I had contact with the asshole he was actively spreading lies about me, he'd understand that he's not going to be one of the elite few. Forrest? Him I'm huggy with. Ryan? Touchy McToucherton. Big-headed jack-off bastard? Keep your fucking paws off me.

Grrr. This? Really not such a big deal. Except, of course, I don't like to be touched by people I don't like, and it was all I could do to reign in the urge toward physical violence, so now I've got the major adrenaline thingum going on.

Bother.