Last night I bought a bouquet of flowers. Pretty daisy ones, that were labeled as 'Coral Fiction.' Odd, but totally sweet at the same time.

And so the next morning I passed around the gifts of God to our mournful generation of apathetic and angst-loving teenagers. Most seemed very confused about why the hell I was giving them flowers - and even more so about why I was taking a picture of them holding it - but there were others that seemed rather appreciative of them, almost transformed at times. It goes to show that even in a white upper-middle class town like West Linn, where almost everyone has an iPod or a cellphone of their own, nothing spreads more genuine happiness than a simple flower.

And that makes me generally happy.

GET ON IT.