it's 9:23 pm, on February 21, 2002 - quickie in space.

~

So it's quarter past nine -- in about fifteen minutes, apparently I'm going to be dragged to karaoke to sing "it's gonna be me" -- and I got this directive: update my journal about what I think about the Lance is space thing.

I can tell you two things: it's gonna be me, except not singing because, no, I don't sing, and also: Lance in space.

Can't even wrap my mind around the whole concept. Seriously. It comes from the realm of things where the sky is purple all the time and trees grow upsidedown. It's as if reality flipped inside out, and all of a sudden things are crazy and everyone else is crazy because hello. Lance. in. space.

It's not that it's bad. Just... completely incomprehensible.

If he'd announced gay, I mean, I'd have been happy, but not so, in shock. You know? It's shock. Not bad shock, just, incomprehensible shock.

I suppose that I knew Lance was a constellation, just never that he knew it too.

So that's my quickie-- I'm gone, baby. Off to wave my arms in the air and act like a moron.. wait. Sh'up, all of you.

Summary: some things are too big for me.

~

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