And that makes me sad. Knowledge and acknowledgement make me sad. My bad spelling not too much. That's trivial, like homogenous Ax=B=0 answers where detA=/=0.

As a demotivational poster in the school hallways nicely sums up:

If you sincerely believe that you can achieve anything if you just try harder, there's no end to what you can't do.

This sounds really emo. I'll stop now and hopefully finish my interminable, no-longer physical stack of homework.

It is declared that from this day on, the person lamenting and pitifully typing away late at night will be done away with and replaced with a cooler person. It is a little too late and quite difficult, but it shall be done. Said cooler person will be very cool in any way possible. The usurpment of the previous person may be said to be objectionable but only trivially. The new person will be a success. QED.

My town/state isn't exactly well-known for leading the country in anything notable, not even in obesity, which seems to be pretty easy to do nowadays. Of course it probably is a leader in obesity...Not THE leader, but you know what? There's always Mississippi. Around here, we have a saying about anything the state falls short in, like edumacation, health, logic, and other important things: thank God for Mississippi. It's our own little cushion of fail.
Anyway, it's easy to see that my world used to be very, very small and that I'm very, very easily amused. I live in a 116.8 square mile city, so what I'm about to show you is likely to be very unrepresentative of the city as a whole or even in part: a manor!
I haven't ever seen any other parking lot surrounding a building like this before. Yes, I'm about to tour you around a parking lot. But it surrounds a manor, so it's okay.

Well, first off there's this funky rectangular building called Garfield Manor a few blocks from my home that I pass just about whenever I go anywhere. I didn't know that manors still existed since the feudal system is outdated and all, but hey, some people can't get over the past. It looks like private property,


and I somewhat logically assume that people live in it because there's a trashcan overflowing with beer bottles every morning on trash day. The mystery behind the private property must be part of the appeal.
Geeze. That picture took a long time to upload...


Well, anyway, there isn't any farming activity, and the only large parcel of arable land nearby is supplanted by the local middle school's soccer/track fields. I passed the above building twice a day to and from middle school for nearly two years and never figured out exactly what was up with it. Nowadays, I pass it twice a day going to and from work, and actually, I also passed it twice a day the past four years going to and from high school.
It happens to be the only greater-than-one story building in the area. Normal houses here exemplify urban sprawl with one-storiedness. The closest greater-than-one would be the two-story ontological building a few blocks away, or the four story (gasp!) mall a few blocks in the opposite direction.

Knights dueling and/or serfs getting mauled by bulls never shed blood in this area as far as I know, so the "Manor" part of the name probably doesn't mean anything, like the word "fresh" in moldy manager's special fresh-baked bread. Anyway, armed with a cell phone camera, I snooped around a little, still not daring to venture on the manor grounds even after all these years. This would've been a good time to pull a Pandora's box except by walking up to the building, but I guess I wasn't feeling particularly audacious at the time since I had told my mom I was hanging clothes out. Which I was....until I remembered that I needed to collect pictures for a blogging application.



Oh, and there's a drainage ditch. Around here, drainage ditches are unusually important to infrastructure and preventing swampy bodies of water from sitting perpetually and developing into eutrophic mosquito breeding grounds. I'll show you where it flows out later. Privileges like drainage ditches keep people happy in a oh-hey-my-house-isn't-flooded-half-the-year type of way. The bad parts of town don't even have proper drainage. In general however, instead of sidewalks, we have drainage ditches lined with concrete on the sides of the street. Real sidewalks are only in the really really upper class neighborhoods, and even with those, it's easy to see where the sidewalk ends because there still aren't that many.




This is the side of the manor's main building. A lwoman just entered clutching a brown grocery bag. I think she saw me.



Here's another segment of the ditch. That's an entire groove bordering the street in the name of water direction. It doesn't really work during the rainy season (all year) though, especially when it needs to (all year). Most don't, really.


There's a second building behind the main one. I think I'd really enjoy living there, nice as my current quarters are. I have a thing for large parking lots, probably for their lack of bugs. I like being able to stay outside without getting itchy for whatever reason nature dictates. This must account for some of my interest in the manor. But either way, so many gorgeous chalk drawings could be etched onto that asphalt flat.

Anyway, this is one side the ditch can flow to:


There's two pipes that form a little ersatz bridge across a brook-looking thing. I'd totally use it if I actually had a legit reason to, but I really don't and never did, not even to get to school. Using that to get to school would be considered an unnecessary and messy detour. Besides, breaking it might be bad.





The stream keeps going, but it's nasty down there. Spending the summer as a bored middle schooler also taught me where this stream comes from, but it's about a mile away as the crow doesn't fly where it crosses another street, and I didn't feel like trodding around down there the day I took these pictures. There's also fish and lower lifeforms down there, but you probably can't see them. We also have a lot of Mudkips around here sometimes. I never leiked them.



Okay, so if you keep walking down the street towards the intersection, there's a very dedicated ditch for where the ones above flow out.

This place looks like a good movie setting for something crude and dramatic. Possibly even murderous. Maybe a good place for a scary movie at night.
You might think the four or so feet of concrete walls is a bit much, but this place actually floods when it rains for days, making it annoying to walk through as I had to many times in the tedious journey toward education at the second worst middle school in town which incidentally is now the first worst because the previously worst was knocked down. Oh good ole days, with all those weekly bomb threats and quad-daily fights.
The blue smudges are from whoever tried to cover up some graffiti. There wasn't nearly that much grafitti though, so it looks like that person decided the paint the whole wall and ran out of paint.

Another angle. That's a veranda or something. This place reminds me of all those pictures of China my mom has. I guess it's like where she used to live. Either way, this is an odd area of town, mixing modern (technology) and hillbilly (trees) elements into something distinctly indistinct.


And here, from the side. There's another large parking lot! Each side of all the buildings around here could pass of as the back, even the front.


The next picture's a better view of the main intersection nearby. That's my dad unexpectedly driving my car coming back from Home Depot. He then stopped by and asked me what the heck I was doing and why do I gotta be so weird. I will admit that I looked ridiculous at the time, as I was wearing black running shorts and a neon pink tee shirt because I couldn't find a lot of my summer clothes. I still haven't found them, so I have just barely have enough to show up in work with. Also, I was taking pictures of "nothing" with a cell phone camera, which is apparently a sin.

This place has the small-town feel of a deserted strip mall and basically looks like the place the rough crowd would go to smoke and beat people up in those eighties movies. It's sort of like the parking lot at work, where the rough crowd goes to smoke but stops short of beating people up.

Here is the side of the buildings on the right in the previous picture:

This area looks quite shady, and it's where the gas pipe bridge leads out to.

And then, lookit what I found in the parking lot-spoons. They're even metal! I swear I didn't put them there to make this post interesting:




And finally, what else would make this more marginally ghetto-looking area complete more than a dark, creepy alley?

I somewhat spontaneously visited Katherine, who emailed me her address while I was at work even though we were talking the night before. She wouldn't tell me then. She lives near work, and I tried to plan it so that I'd go to work after that to save time & gas, and it almost fell through.

Most likely, we didn't plan anything, because we ended up picking up Lindsey who lives nearby and hung out at Target for an hour. We probably spent half that hour looking at candy, since the Katherine and Lindsey apparently really wanted candy. And when we decided to go to Target, Katherine brought some money with her, except it was sixty dollars. Why. Why. You'd have to buy a lot of stuff at Target to spend forty, unless you get clothes, and she does not wear Target clothes. More like Aeropostale and american eagle.

They really did buy loads of junk food: a bag of Reeses, bag of toffee, two boxes of frozen chocolate cake-looking stuff, a box of brownies, and two sheets of Hello Kitty stickers, the last of which I acknowledge as a generally inedible item. I bought a drink I meant to bring to my seven hour shift, but I ultimately forgot it in Katherine's fridge. Then we hung out at Katherine's house, ate cake, made brownies that we didn't eat, and watched several arguments between Katherine and her mom. They seriously have a bad relationship, but then again her mom is kind of unreasonable. The mom repeatedly implied that Katherine is fat even though she's 5'10" and could really be supermodel material. So basically the mom was pissed to see what we brought back and hid the baking pan so we couldn't make brownies. Then she cooked dumplings, but this part was confusing at first because Katherine said her mom wasn't cooking lunch for her (because she was fat enough already). So it was because the mom was being hospitable... Being there was really awkward. The mom also asked me if my mom was hiring...Well, her department is lacking funds, but I'd ask, I said.

Katherine also collects perfume and makeup, previously unbeknownst to me. She and Lindsey then decided to give me a makeover. Their enthusiasm led be to be exactly on time for work but with uneven black stuff on my eyelids and bright red streaks across my cheeks. I had to change to my work clothes in the parking lot, and I burned my feet on the hot, dark pavement, lol. My coworkers didn't see anything because I'd sprinted with my head down to the bathroom as soon as I punched in, but I ran into a classmate on the way who recognized me and said hi. She'd put on her makeup differently so I barely recognized her, but she was nice about everything and was clinging to a boy who had an odd look on his face. Had I not been so caught up with being late for work, my face would've naturally turned the same shade of red as the crimson blush I had to wash off. Most of it was waterproof too, so I spent about five minutes scrubbing around my eyes with the soap that didn't want to come out of the dispenser.

It wasn't so bad though, and overall it was a good day since I hung out for once, and a certain computer sales associate helped me ring people out at customer services near the front bench so that I could actually do my official job instead of ring people out. He's such a joker but is leaving a little bit before I do. It's a bit lonely on the front bench by myself, which is usually the case. I think he and a few other people are the reason I enjoy my job much more on some days than others.

TCL is a resurrected process recently put back into use.

This stands for "The Complete Solution". Yes, the T stands for The. As a selling model, it involves a sales associate who initially contacts the customer and engages with him or her in order to solve his or her problem, because every customer comes here with a problem and workers are there to help solve it. The SA then uses the TRUST model of contact to learn about the customer's needs and lifestyle, eventually recommending products and services to serve them. Trust stands for Thank, Respect, Understand, Suggest, and Thank, which makes minimal sense at times, since thanking the customer tends to confuse the customer. Anywya, the SA then brings the customer to the precinct, where a member of the Geek Squad on HERO duty rings the customer out. Nobody I've asked is sure what HERO stands for, but it holds by corporate ruling which is all that matters. In the process, additional services are recommended. By whom, I don't know. There's a reason it was a passive sentence. Then, the SA returns to the floor. SAs can be nice about it or be jobsworths. Geek Squaders can be nice about it or get up in yo face about all the work they're expected to do and can't squeeze in.

Today I could not spell, until now, but only because firefox is holding my hand and leading me accross the rush hour highway called spelling. It's still not working.

My room is a mess. I own too many things, namely clothes. I must own like twenty whole shirts, and three not whole shirts. God. There's also paper. Wayyyyy too much writing. Also quite a bit of dust. I should go to bed.

Did you know, cakes should be baked quickly after mixing in the wet ingredients because the baking power inside them will lose its ability to make carbon dioxide, thus leading to flat and tough cake? Did you also know that I knew that, but was unable to follow it because I didn't know the oven was broken, thus making a pitifully unappatizing birthday cake whose only remotely high point was its resemblence to the cakes used in Mario Party?

Mr. Roboto is brandspanking new again!

Just ignore the presence of non-virgin harddrive sectors and generally disheveled physical exterior. Possibly the physical interior as well. But! Yeah. Reinstall, woo. So...adding RAM involved cracking it open. I didn't lose any screws. That was good, but the bigger problem is that the case didn't line up perfectly when I put it back. It's not super super super conspicuous, but it's disaligning the battery a little, and... Dirt and crap'll get inside the computer more easily. Certainly this wasn't worth it... Especially since I'm running XP.
I had to reinstall twice since going up to XP Pro involved the WGA patrol. Oh WGA. Microsoft is very much so anti-piracy, understandable but annoyingly so sometimes. Out of a large collection of years of CDs agglomerated from unknown corners of the world, I found a XP Pro OS. With an original key code! But it was OEM for a desktop. Too bad. I'm kind of surprised it worked at all. But WGA might make everything explode after 30 days, which would really really suck because I'll be caught in the life-draining mire of school and a reinstall would be one of the last things I'd want to deal with. So, back to XP Home, which isn't really so bad because this was before Microsoft turned into a ...jerk about differences between versions. Vista is a wonderful example as I've learned.
But the drivers are making me frustrated. I thought I was safe because Mr. Roboto came with a "Drivers" CD. Two of them, actually! But...They were just lists of drivers you need...Really? This might have been acceptable if there was only one CD. The list wasn't even specifically for the model. More like their whole line. Oh well. I did get all of them... They all worked with my "pirated" version, but when I went back to my reinstall CD, the sound driver wouldn't install. I enjoy sound. I ranted to a friend, and he asked if the driver was for the right model. Well. Yes. I'm not quite that dumb. At least not right now, since I'm getting a decent amount of sleep.

My life must be boring. I'm talking about my computer gosh darn it. But I haven't had work for TWO WHOLE DAYS and lack of mindless work has left me to my own devices. Back to the front bench tomorrow! Erm. My department is usually understaffed, and everything becomes kind of a positive feedback reaction when things get busy. Apparently I'm good at selling things, so that just creates more work for me or whoever else is on the front bench. Floor workers pull out anyone in my department who's visible (aka front bench). We're supposed to attach services to the product. Floor workers are supposed to have primed the customer and gotten the paperwork filled out, but most of them skip that. Because "my manager said so." Anyway. We try to sell them services, then we do the services. The guy pulled me out to the floor when it started too even though my department only had three on duty. I kind of felt like walking around, but then another guy from my department got the staff manager and put me back on the front bench because they seriously needed me. I was in troubleeeee. Woo. And now I'm talking about work even though I did quite a few interesting social things recently.

Today I hung out with this guy I got to know online and have been talking to for a few months now!

We were originally going to drive halfway across the country together up to college in a memorable roadtrip that we would remember forever with lovely sentimentality through the rosy lenses of the lost youth we will probably yearn for as our DNA methylates and our bodies break. Oh to relive the fuzzy summer wind coursing through the open windows down an empty highway. Simon & Garfunkel plays from a mix tape, but we only hear it in dead spaces punctuating a deep conversation between teenagers leaving the backwoods, ready to start a new life in a far-off city.

Let that sink in.

I think that would've been fun, but my mom believes I'd get tired, and my dad believes we'd get attacked by bandits. Bandits? Seriously?

He'll probably be my closest friend there for a while...on campus at least. I have one amazing friend up the river and another across the bridge. There are also a many acquaintances in the area, but still.

I've talked to him once in real life before and actually spent a several weeks last summer within his general area. However, I never fully acknowledged his existance that summer through things like knowing his name or saying hi.He happened to be passing through town and apparently wanted to meet my mom. So...sure? My mom was excited since we rarely get guests and I never bring friends to my place. She approves of him though, probably mostly because he's going to the same school as I am next year. But she does like him. He's very proper, is vaguely interested in her work, and is, according to her, handsome. Everyone's always down with good looks.

It felt awkward seeing him since it'd been several months, and I associate him more as a internet entity that a real life person, which on my part is a terrible thing to say. However, this happens to most people because i rarely go out.
He shook hands with me when we greeted each other. I was actually thinking of doing that, but I decided to hug him after the handshake. He likes hugs. But anyway, he didn't talk much at first. I'd assume he was getting over faulty, corrupt memories of a similiar nature I had of him. Maybe he didn't exactly expect me to look the way I did or talk the way I did, falsely remembering details and misrepresenting features in a good way that only disappointed him. Over IM, it's easier to say decently intelligent things. It's also hard to mumble.
On my part, he was wayyyyy taller than I remembered him, though recently everyone seemed to be taller, including people I see often. By what he says, he's half a foot taller than I am unless i've shrunk since then. I also remember him having a dorky voice, which unsurprisingly offended him slightly. After a while, I did think that again. He talks like Dr. Manhattan and uses odd vocabulary. At some point, his dad called and he said "I will depart shortly." I will. Depart. Shortly. Not even a contraction? lol. I couldn't care less, but I dunno. Argh, this be an exposition.
So...I showed him around and whatnot. I slipped on a hill in front of him right after he called me agile lol. Not cool. He was around for about three hours. That must've been the big thing in my day even though other friends came over randomly later. The end.

Ridic
Haha. I still remembered how to do that in HTML. It's been what, four years? Everythingg's funnier in allcaps.

Common and persistant typos I make:
"liverjournal" for livejournal
"science fail" for science fair. This one's ironic.

Summer's almost over. I'm leaving tons of people again, but I should be used to this, having gone to seven or eight schools. Stupid linearly experienced time. Grr. I'd love to slow down and just enjoy the summer without having to worry about doing anything, like working or studying. Of course, I can, but it makes me feel like such a bad person to be lazy and not do anything productive when there's so much that needs to be done. Then I remember that in a few billion years, the sun will explode and anything that could remotely pass off as relics of humanity will disappear in fire or ice. Probably fire. But anyway, then I just oh well it away and get back down to business or having fun. Or both, which is nicest.

Anyway, a vignette:

I flicked my phone out of my pocket and slid it open. 8:27. So close until Dan could leave work and join us for a movie night. I slid the phone back into my pocket. It had an unnecessarily bright screen-the same orange radiation as the setting sun blinding me from outside the greenhouse panes. As I leaned against the hut railing, I looked at the last family milling around, albeit in the general direction of the exit as the father urged the children toward the mesh door. I turned my spaced-out stare away in a direction that wouldn't make anyone nervous. And then a shaggy brown mass rising above the knee-high vegetation caught my attention. It fell out of view. There was a grunt.
Out of curiosity, I nervously stepped forward like a lonely pencil pusher who's come home to find his front door ajar. It was a person propped up against the giant fake rock like a ragdoll. A small white and two painted ladies in his hair shakily navigated the tangles of his hair. He was...possibly..hopefully asleep? Streaks of all sorts lined his face, and the coat could very barely could have been made of moving fibers.
I somewhat dramatically and unnecessarily walked backward to the shed. Dan looked up up from the daily task list he was marking. Frank hopped off the railing.
"Bored?" Frank asked.
"Dude...There's like a hobo or something over there..." I politically-incorrectly said, then pointed toward the hibiscus bush. "Do you think we should call security or something?"
"Uh...Wait, what?"
We hopped off the steps and trod over.
"Oh my god."
The man stirred restlessly and lifted a mangled hand to take a swig from a bottle-shaped brown lunch bag. A swallowtail dislodged from his coat and drifted away.
Dan stepped back a little and watched. He hesitated, then stepped forward.
"...Excuse me...Sir..."
"...Dan? You sure you want to...?"
The man cracked open his dirt caked eyes. He grunted painfully and tried to use his bloodshot, yellow eyes.
"Wha...What the hell are all these goddamn butterflies doing on me!"
He staggered up and dark liquid splashed out of the bottle-shaped bag away from him, the same fluttering curvy shape like the remaining butterflies exploding off his shoulders.

That wasn't too cool. In the end we got security to deal with this. It was creepy.

So, last Sunday night, probably yesterday, I finished the final touches at work and headed a few blocks down to Applebee's to see if another one of my nine lives would vanish as curiosity kills the cat. You know I have more than nine lives, since I'm still alive. But I just had to see... Quite a few coworkers talk about the Sundays at Applebee's. It's apparently a tradition for workers in the store I work at to go there and sort of all hang out, a tradition largely motivated by two things: two pints of beer is three dollars on Sunday night, and everyone can actually make it in theory because my store closes before Applebee's does only on Sundays. I'd liked to have checked it out at least once before I leave.

It wasn't quite the party I expected of course. It doens't help that I'd never even been inside an Applebee's before and never cared to learn that it had a bar. The party is said to start at nine, so that's around when I arrived, and lots of people from work were actually there. That was pretty cool. I wandered around a little and checked out the whole place and then kind of sat down with some guys I talk to a lot.

So the whole cheap beer deal was serious business apparently, and just like TV taught me, things got pretty loud soon. These two college kids started screaming your mom jokes at one point. They weren't exactly legal yet, but that's not unusual, and they sound like alcoholics anyway from the the drinking stories they share at work. Involving Washington Apples and Tarantula Azuls and such.

I didn't order anything even though I hadn't eaten all day and proceeded to become a party pooper who left around eleven because my mom probably wouldn't like it if I stayed out later. Eleven was bad enough , but oh well. We also had cheesebread at home, which I looked forward to.

Dad: Don't hang out with those people who stay up until two or three in the morning partying when you go off to college. Possibly till one, but definitely not later.
Me: Yeah, I probably won't.
Dad: It shouldn't be too loud inside your dorm.
Me: Erm. No...No. There's a disco floor on the floor I'm staying in my dorm...

P1: Would you say I'm a bad kid if I started hanging out with friends?
P2: You can't do that. If you have time for that kind of thing, you should do more chores instead. Wash the dishes. I have papers for you to read. That will fill up your time.
P1: But if I did that all the time, I wouldn't have time to hang out.
P3: lol
P1: I can't have you sitting on porches and staring at the street and doing drugs all the time.
P2: That's not what hanging out is...
P1: Then what is it? It's just a waste of time.
P2: Yeah, it is. But it's normal human behavior. People like to have fun sometimes.

etc.

I set up bear traps last night. They weren't quite as sharp as I thought, but... If it won't come off no matter how hard you struggle, who cares how sharp or not it is, really? Kept dropping them all over the place. Such a klutz. And the keys don't work very well either. The guy said he'd broke some before trying to close the cage locks, but then again he's been at it for a year or so.

My life has consisted of work, futile attempts at studying, energy-draining side effects of too much caffeine, and never getting around to backing up my data the past week or two. I wouldn't reinstall my computer until I save my worthless yet sentimental data of the past two years, my most explosively packed with misery yet. There was plenty of elation and positive excitement sprinkled in there too, but you can't tell based on those megabytes worth of essays and painstakingly failed lines of java. It would be statistically invalid to try.

My computer is almost two years old, so I figure I may as well bring it with me freshmen year and get a new one after that for the last three. That's how long most warrenties last, so three is decently dependable or something. However, it needs more ram. And cowbell. Rams with cowbell. But yeah. Also a good cleaning, physical and not. I think it's cool though, in its own little approaching obselete type of way. I probably spelled obselete wrong. Eh. Well. Mr. Roboto, or Lappy, as I named it, also has an Apple sticker I stole from work somewhat covering the Dell logo. Geeze. Everything I have sounds so ghetto. Maybe I'll stop doing that some day.

I think I like my job, which is good, but only because I haven't been there too long, which is neutral. It's really tedious, and I cut myself a lot not because I use a carton cutter all the time, but because I'm not careful enough with cardboard boxes. Well, it's not so much cuts but how it pushes back my cuticles too much. Yeah, it's mostly the cardboard boxes that get me. Not screwdrivers or knives, but paper. Boo. I'm a rock, not scissors.

It's not much better than when I work out on the sales floor, but closing on the floor's pretty fun with the right people. We push each other down the aisles on ladders to get upstocked items, which is efficient, but against the rules. There's also massive amounts of horseplay, swearing, and innuendo.

But working benches isn't so bad either apparently. There's lots of stuff that people don't want anymore but can still be perfectly useful. We're not supposed to keep anything even if it's supposed to be thrown away though, and this worker wanted a harddrive that a customer didn't, but the boss wouldn't let him keep it and threw it in the trash compactor. So the worker actually went inside to get it, and then the boss finally said a coin flip was in order, heads for keeps and tails for back in the compactor. Back into the compactor it went.

Awkward awkward turn turn.

Anyway, I was closing last night. Finally left the whole 11:30PM deal that night and headed for the parking lot, which was deserted except for the little beetles hopelessly buzzing around no more than a few inches off the pavement and then dropping back down again. They spun around in little circles on their backs going nowhere just looking miserable. There were also a few cars left.

So I headed towards my car and got a text from this friend I haven't seen all summer asking me where I was. So leaning against the hood of my car, I told her I just got off work and such. Then she called and asked me to meet her in the Walmart parking lot since she wanted to hang out. Erm. Not far...Sure. Even if I'm not trusty, I can be pretty trusting. But she's cool.

I slid my phone closed and lay down for a bit on the car, not caring that I was wearing a white shirt. Then, some guy in a red car drove up to me in a really quiet car and asked, "Do you want a jump?"
I couldn't see his face, which probably contributed to my freaking out, so I just got into my car and drove off. That was really rude, but I thought I heard "Do you want a ride?" which I've heard many times before. I still feel kind of bad about that since the guy probably works where I do because I've seen that car in the lot before. Anyway, the guy drove off too, and for a while, he was behind me, which obviously didn't help my state of mind. But he turned onto the highway while I didn't, so that was that. Then the friend called me while I was driving, which wasn't cool since I was driving a manual in an area with a bunch of street lights. But yeah, she said to meet her in the front.

At Walmart...Let's see. First off, there were still at least fifty cars in the lot when I got there. This surprised me. But...there she was, kind of kicking a cigarette box around. I guess she didn't care about the greeter watching her. Those greeters make me nervous.

We said hi and whatnot and then kind of walked around the store for a bit just looking at stuff and fooling around. Walmart looks surreal at night. The florescent bulbs cast everything in an unnaturally whiter shade of pale, and the gaunt inventory workers clad in navy tee shirts five sizes too big move around slowly and mechanically like zombies. Except they're doing useful things instead of eating brains. She ultimately decided to buy one of those giant tubs of ice cream, the sizes nobody should ever buy for household consumption. Then we ended up walking to her house, which wasn't far, and we hung out on the front porch and...she had ice cream...unsurprisingly... It was crazy. This part was staring me straight in the face from the beginning. But...it's life, and it was fun. Stuff like this can't happen that often. I got home at two hehe.

Starting from the lump between your eyebrows going down: glabella, root, dorsum, apex, septum, philtrum.