It's about that time between the blowing and the bursting.
Friday, 07/04/03 - 3:59 pm.

The sky isn't blue as it'd been lately. It's getting kind of cloudy again, but over all, it's that pale color that reminds me of smog (good thing it isn't really smog).

But other than that, everything has gotten better since yesterday. I'm in a better mood.

I stayed up late last night, watching my dad on TV, promoting his new book. I'm happy for him. We're really proud of him, obviously.

And I made BUBBLES today!!! this morning, with Rebeca. I'd never had so much fun with bubbles since the Denver thing. I often think he popped my bubbles. And in a way he did, because since he screwed me over, I'd rarely make them, let alone enjoy them.

But anyway, everything changed this morning. Rebeca and I made HUGE bubbles, with our own hands. They were so consistent you could hold them in your hands, and make them move like jell-o. Unbelievable!

We did it with Gel soap. We poured a little on our hands, then got our fingertips in water and rubbed one hand against the other. We did the OK sign, the gap between your index and your thumb being the hole to blow (we're still talking about hands, ok?)...and the other hand is a few inches away, because that way it'll catch the bubble and you'll be able to hold it with both hands.

*tears of joy*

I'm going bowling tonight with the kids. I didn't want to at first, but I remembered some Depression Ad I saw on a psychology book: it was a depressed man, sitting in the middle of a room, and the sign read: "why doesn't he just get out of there?". I'm dumb and I didn't know if that was just an irony (because as far as I know -and *perhaps* experimented-, when you're depressed, "getting out" is not as easy as it seems). I still don't, but I took it as an encouragement to really get out of here. And now at least I have something to look forward to. And that's always a plus.

I've decided to break up with my friends for a little while. Until august, most likely. Yayness, joy. And I mean it.

I was going to say something witty about depression and getting out, but it's different when it's said from the outside. The ones inside can't see the perspective (I wouldn't see it if I was my "depressed"-self). Unless they make the effort to stick out the head and watch. And no matter how easy that sounds, it is hard. The self makes it's just out of control.

But bubbles are good indoors and outdoors as well.

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