Back from doing stuff with Becky

Lots went on, much of it amusing. At the moment, however, I will only mention the ice cream truck I saw shortly after we started our futile two-hour search for a good place to eat (we're picky). It had 'Aryan Ice Cream' printed on the side. For some reason that just amuses me too, too much. I'm still having visions of a little ice-cream hooded KKK member on a stick, with gumball eyes...

Feh.

Earlier today I was so happy and whee and everything was shiny. I threw myself at a wall-o-pins and made an amusing imprint! I laid (lied? Jaqk? Help?) on a bed of nails! I pulled myself into the air with my own two hands and a fancy rope-and-pulley system! I had a foam arch collapse on me, for crying out loud! It was FUN!

But now I'm all depressed and stuff. And I don't know why. Well, I kinda do, but not entirely. And I don't know why it started, only why it's being maintained. All the reasons you SHOULD be feeling icky are a lot more prominent when you already ARE feeling icky. I swear it's a conspiracy.

(no subject)

XidusToo (10:44:52 PM): o/* My eyebrow has a first name... it's e-y-e-b-r... my eyebrow has a last name... it's o-w-uhh-o-w-o... o/*
The Jennybork (10:45:18 PM): What are you on, dear?