Where IS the Advil?

You know how you see a movie when you're very young, and you kind of remember key parts but not much else, so when you see it as an adult it's like you've never seen it before? Yeah. One of the Encore channels has been having a Dirty Dancing marathon today. ( I carried a watermelon? )

(By the way: the writing of this entry just now was interrupted by my mother dragging me downstairs: "Look! THE STARS ARE MOVING!" "What? God, the moon is bright--" "They were MOVING! Back and forth! Like this, and then back like this, and then--" "I see stars. Twinkling. That's all." "They were MOVING!" "Well, look, if the aliens come tomorrow, you can tell me you told me so till the cows come home. Where's the Advil? I'm going back inside.")

So, until I came down with a splitting headache roughly around the time I was marched outside to stargaze, I've spent the last couple of days feeling weirdly giddy. I mean, really happy. Which is great; I just can't explain why. I mean, not that I need a reason to be happy--that sounds terrible--but you know how you'd normally describe a pleasant default state as "content"? This is actually happy. I feel like I have some kind of wonderful secret I'm keeping, or like I'm in love (and it's neither, trust me). It's just so giddy and persistent, I can't explain it. Maybe it's all the vitamin D I'm getting from being out in the sun swimming. I don't know.

On the downside: I'm still having weird spells of fatigue (am I coming down with happy cancer or something?), and my little Zen mp3 player has gone missing, although I keep it religiously in a white tote bag with all my current writing. If you have any search-and-discover gnomes, send them my way.

( Eh, the linkspam )