Something bad has to happen soon...I'm getting suspicious.

Suspicious in that I've had yet another very good time and nobody has yet told me I have a terminal disease, or similar very sad things.

Yesterday, against what I'm sure would have been vehement protests by my mother were she awake (hi there madre!) a couple of friends and I walked up the Burke-Gilman Trail to Gasworks Park...at 11:30 at night. We didn't die, which was a definite plus, and also the view from the top of the hill at the Seattle skyline across Lake Union was more or less the definition of awesome. The only other people at the park were a few macking couples and a hobo who was practicing his harmonica, presumably in an attempt to set the mood for romance. Probably would have been more successful with a different instrument.

Anyway, on the way back, we came across a shopping cart that had been ran into some bushes. So naturally, we claimed it and it was made into a form of William-powered transport. Needless to say the random people who for some reason go jogging at midnight (there were I think four, which is still infinity percent bigger than the expected value, which was zero) were either amused or disturbed, since I was wearing my top hat and Elliott was wearing a mugger beanie, and we were driving an abandoned shopping cart. Oh, and the person in the shopping cart was of the female persuasion, so I'm sure that laid the ground for some very interesting conclusions to be drawn.

Also, today I conducted a social experiment. Between classes, I resolved to listen only to Lady GaGa's album "The Fame," in an attempt to estimate the extent to which the people around me could predict what I was listening to. Like the way that one would expect someone with a spiked mohawk to not be listening to a Vivaldi bassoon concerto.

In any case, several factors made an accurate result rather difficult - such as the fact that I could hardly control myself giggling. You all try listening to "Lovegame" or "Just Dance" and try to look stoic. Not very easy. Anyway, I arrived at the conclusion that the probability someone knows that you are listening to Lady GaGa is directly proportional to how colorful one's clothing is, and also probably proportional to how much one is giggling. And it also probably has something to do with how hard one is trying to repress an urge to break out in lewd dance moves.

So that was my day. Yes I know I'm weird. Ssh.

Edit: Physics. Forgot to include that today. So there it is.