“Oh god,” she said. “I hate blogging.”
I used to hate blogging too. I used to hate the name of blog.
Her hair was unkempt, in the traditional sense. She probably hated a lot of things not worth hating. In the end I guess her shirts did it. I’m a sucker for cleavage, like a twelve year old.
I was crushing hard, and all she said was that she hated blogging.