I live!

Sort of. I've been out in Nascar country for a few days, helping renovate my uncle's house. Well, paint, mostly. Lots of ceiling paint. I am still high on the fumes. I am also sleep-deprived, because...well, most of you know of my small addiction to that sport called Ultimate Frisbee. There's a tournament tomorrow on the beach (well, if you can call it a beach. It's the substitute beach for Texans who don't have real beaches.), and I really wanted to play, but wasn't supposed to get back until tomorrow. So...the only flight option was a 5:20 red-eye out of Chattanooga. I woke up at 3:30 this morning. I have never woken up that early. Stayed up that late? Yes, to my great shame. So I am rather sleep-deprived and yawning now, but tomorrow should be a fantastic day.

I can't get My First Kiss by 3OH!3 or that other Keith Urban song (I Want To Kiss A Girl?) out of my head. I don't know what my subconscious is trying to tell me, but I am bothered by and am fiercely scolding it. Catchy pop songs. We love and hate them.

I think I have stopped making sense, so I am going to go watch Dr. Who or something that doesn't involve higher brain function. Peace, y'all.