When i'm in one of my torpid states - the eyes glaze over, the hand rises up to scratch the nose absent-mindedly and the face relaxes into a post-stroke droop- an unwanted memory often seizes its chance and emerges from the whirling vortex to seize a sizable hunk of ego. One moment I'll be idly wondering who would win in a good old-fashioned fist fight between Bush and a porcipine (not that they have fists) and then suddenly *high pitched yelp of pain* an ignominous slice of self-history flies towards my face, claws unsheathed. Like a segment of conversation, for example, where I expose once again your ignorance, or some humiliating event me, star of the farce.
The memory that struck me five minutes ago?
Me. Adventure World. Water slides. Single tube. Whirlpool. Stuck. Five Minutes. Flailing desperately. Heaving. Collapsing. And there it is. You see it. That last shred of pride floating away with the breeze, passing out of view as it enters the gaping eye socket of the giant skull.

I have just unwrapped a parcel from my grandparents. A set of 'celtic' styled jewellery, for the ball, they wrote dogmatically on the card. I am grateful, i am truly very grateful indeed. The bracelet, necklace and earrings are lovely decorative ornaments, and i am certain that when they look at the pictures (as ordered) they will find their gifts glinting at the throat, wrist and ears.

Gah..! ball...won't...go away! *makes a vain attempt to hold back time by rearranging the household clocks as far away as her as possible*