Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Last night Dan and I went out for dinner with our lovely friend Moya and her friend Fiona. Dan hardly stopped talking as they were asking her all about university, horses, boys and future plans etc. When Dan wasn't talking...I was. When we left I realised that poor Moya and Fiona had hardly had a chance to speak. My Dad talks all the time and I realised with horror that the very thing about him that I find so infuriating has been inherited by the two of us. I need to work harder on being 'quiet'. I think I need to work quite hard :)
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