irrepressible grins

The pinnacle of excitement for today was watching in horror as Josh squeezed wet spaghetti noodles into one another until they had been reduced to a discolored pulp, and then as he delicately molded the sauce-stained putty into a phallic shape.

In other news, last night my mom booked a midmorning flight to California during spring break, where I'll be able to visit Pat. For the past nine months I've been experiencing bouts of depression and anguish over my inability to be with him, so the thought of seeing my koishii in less than twenty days induces pangs of soreness in my face from smiling so widely.

I feel like the goddamn Cheshire Cat.

Personally, I always preferred the Cheshire Cat over the static and flimsy persona of Alice. Everyone secretly aspires to achieve the same lofty status as the Cheshire Cat -- to possess the superiority to laugh hysterically at those who have accidentally tripped into mammoth chasms, to fade into the stringy shadows of the surrounding tree branches as a bubbling fountain of wisdom, and to remain as an illuminated grin mocking the darkness.