{I have my reasons on why I've been silent the past two weeks. One of it is the fact that the topics of the last days disarmed me. Few required no more than one descriptive paragraph, others overlapped each other. Well, I've rearranged and compiled the topics. So here's the first of the anecdote series. Be forewarned that this may get awkward.}

Does your nose ever itch? When that happens to me, I either rub my nose or scratch the whole bridge down. Yes, this is an odd anecdote. Anyway, it was a cold day in Melbourne, and I was with family on a trip to Phillip Island. Most likely it was the cold, but my nose began to itch terribly just as we were parking the car. So there I was, happily scratching my nose as I turned to open the door, only to look right in the face of a teenage boy grimacing just as he was exiting the car next to us. It was the grimace of disgust. At first, I was confused. What did I do to earn such an unfavorable opinion? Then it dawned on me.

He thought I was picking my nose.

At least that's what I think he thought. Nothing else happened then that could be considered gross, and he was certainly looking directly at me.

As both our groups walked toward the visitor's center, I actually thought of running to him and saying, "It's not what you think! I was just scratching my nose!"

I don't know if that would have sounded any better. And I wasn't a hundred percent sure of my assumption of his assumption. So in the end, I had to live with the torment of knowing that I perhaps could have given one of the awkwardest first impressions ever. I felt so unjustified. Still do.

Because I most certainly did not pick my nose!