Yeah, that's about right...

Nicked from arcaedia

Wackiness: 58/100
Rationality: 28/100
Constructiveness: 50/100
Leadership: 38/100

You are a WEDF--Wacky Emotional Destructive Follower. This makes you a menace to society, depending on how you channel your energies. You chew your fingers and have an addictive personality. Properly guided, you can be enormously productive--otherwise you run amok, stir up trouble, and generally have a hell of a good time.

To your friends, you are a source of relentless entertainment. You often get into trouble, but you almost always find a way out. You are strangely popular and feed off others' energy. You live hard, seize the day, and although your more sober friends would like to see you settled down, you generally have fewer regrets and better memories than they do. Your tenet is that, at the end of the day, one regrets only what one didn't try. You are right.

You could benefit from outside help in balancing your highs and lows. Or perhaps cutting back on the caffeine.

20 Questions

As Previously Advertised

Home again, home again. Can I have another week at the ocean right now, please? Didn't think so.

Let's see. We walked all over the "seven miles of sandy beach," several times, as well as up into town, across town, into and around Playland, &c. I beat kinzel at Skeeball and demonstrated to my own satisfaction that Dance Revolution is neither for the fainthearted nor the middle-aged.

There were fireworks displays on the beach four nights in a row, of which we attended three. I'd like to say that catches me up, but -- alas. Call me a fireworks slut.

Nice weather -- warm enough but not too warm, and only one day when it was really too cold to go out, splash and around and otherwise make an idiot of myself.

A large extended family traditionally vacations at the Skylark over the Fourth; we may have been the only non-family member on our side of the building, so the kids did the rational thing and adopted us for the duration, a circumstance that made our stay more home-like for kinzel, who grew up in a let-us-say enormous extended family, with kids, cousins, uncles, ex-wives, -husbands, and -girlfriends indiscriminately mixed around. Me, I grew up in a small Roman Catholic family where none of us talked to each other, and never clapped eyes on an ex-anything until I was all grown up myself, much less an adult with a beer in his or her hand.

Still, the whole thing was fun, in a noisy, chaotic, sugar-jagged sort of way.

Didn't do a lick of front-brain work, though the backbrain informs me that it has Several Ideas Pending, When I Have a Moment? (insert glyph of backbrain tapping foot impatiently). Suppose I ought to go start a load of laundry and call the meeting.