"Set in stone the sun will come and I hate light, you know I hate light. To me it looks so pretty burning."

A prize to anyone who can guess the name of the song from the lyrics above. I don't know what the prize would be though. I can't actually think of one to give. No money shall part from my hand. I would say a hug, but I've had bad experiences today with being touched. Hmm....this is a very problematic dilemma.

Random contest of the day. My day. My random day. My very freakily random day.

Chemistry test. Didn't study, probably failed.

I wore something I guess a bit tighter than normal. Don't know why. A lot of people commented on my red shirt though. Don't know why.

Teehee. I said "Don't know why." twice.

Actually, that slightly irks me. It illuminates to me the fact that I have been running on pure routine all day. Nothing out of the ordinary. Unless it came out of my mouth.

My mom picked me up from QuizBowl in my truck. I was so happy.

We bought ice cream at Payless. We had to eat some when we came home because it was somewhat melted. That way it wouldn't taste weird refrozen. So I took the top layer of a cookies & cream batch. My stomach is full of fluff and I think I shall not touch the ice cream for a week.

Oh, I just remembered. It took me a while. Sorry, my brain also seems to be full of fluff. Lack of caffeine. Wait, let me drink some.

............(We all wait as Tiffany downs some Wild Cherry Pepsi)
...........................

Ok, all better.

I happen to be quite ticklish. Apparently, everyone at lunch decided to gang up on me down the hallway. Which has a boy's bathroom on the side. See how much fun this is so far?

Anyway, so they tickle me, I lose control of my feet in laughter. I ram into the wall, hitting the frame of the opening to the boy's bathroom. A couple of feet and I would have been entering unknown territory.

Well, not really. I was in a guy's bathroom once before in the 8th grade. We were washing stuff for a teacher, the whole class, and the girl's bathroom ran out paper towels. So we went into the guys. We got yelled at too.

I tripped going up the stairs. Well, more like slipped. Yay! Go my klutzy self! Go!

I hate stairs.