It’s The Little Things…
For the first time in my life, I cracked someone’s password to log into an account. It’s not quite as bad-ass as it sounds, because A.) It’s an account I’m expressly allowed to use, B.) I had been logged in for DAYS and then accidentally closed all my browsing tabs, which forced the re-log, and C.) They told the password to me ONCE so it’s not like I was picking up the closest dictionary and starting at the letter A, here, but all the same— when I got that “Welcome!” screen, it was like James Bond had PERSONALLY dialed me up and invited me over for tea and hand grenades with him and M and Q.
Not even half an hour later, I was reading down my dash on Facebook when I came across the status of a friend of mine from Italy, a native Roman girl, that read “I love my boyfriend, and he loves me, very much, which is magnificent.” It was only AFTER I finished reading it that I realized that it was IN ITALIAN and that I haven’t lost my knack with the language just as much as I thought I had. Sigh. Bravaissimi!
I can do ANYTHING. Because I am SUPER GIRL.