Welcome to Gaia! ::

Actually, being locked up doesn't build character. It's aggravating and the food is.... well, the food is actually pretty alright. However, everything you do is on a schedule. You eat at this time, you sleep at this time, you get fifteen minutes to shower, you have a probably-crazy roommate. Your family comes to see you once every few days, then gets kicked out after a while. Any food or anything they bring gets checked. They meet you in a cafeteria with everyone else. You don't get your clothes back for several days, and when you get your shoes back, you have to twist up toilet paper to serve as makeshift shoelaces. You go to specific activities at specific times, you go to your room at specific times and pretty much have nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. Maybe read a comic or a book or something, if your family brings one. I distinctly remember the guy across the hall and I shared a 'Mad Magazine,' because he didn't have anything and my dad brought me one (they only barely let me have it; they would've thrown it away). Of course, we weren't supposed to; the doors are supposed to be shut and we're all supposed to be quiet.
And then there's gym, which was alright.
Of course, there's the counselors. You get one assigned to you, and they talk to you every so often. The most recent one I had apparently became convinced that I have Dissociative Identity Disorder because she has a shitty understanding of Asperger's Syndrome and thought it was wierd that I was playing with blocks that she had set the ******** out for people to play with.

And if you ever act up in any way, they get a large male orderly to hold you down and stick a needle in your a**.
That never actually happened to me, of course; I saw them do it to a guy once and decided I'd be the nice kid.

I was the nice kid who never acted up, and I think I spent on average a week and a half per visit. The shortest was probably eight, maybe nine days or so.

And the nurses never forget you. Never. See, I went to one place the first two times, then the third time, I got sent somewhere else (where I was greeted by the bitchiest lady ever: "Hello, how are you today?" Ummm.... fine, I guess.... "Well, obviously you're not fine, or you wouldn't be here, now, would you?"), but by the fourth I got sent back to the first place. Remember this is taking place over a span of several years. On that fourth visit, I had a nurse whom I did not recognize at all greet me by name.

So basically, most places aren't absolutely horrible, but none of them are any ******** fun to be in.

Anyway, what exactly is the distinction between a flapjack and a pancake? I never understood that?

I didn't think you weren't. neutral

Nah, you were detecting memorial irritation. I just don't like thinking about that; had nothin' to do with you.

Hmm.

I feel funny. I physically feel funny, as though my outermost layer of skin were... wrong, somehow. Maybe it's the sunburn, but this feels different. Hmm.

If I start sparkling, I'll set myself on fire. And have someone toss the ashes into an east-flowing river.

.... At least, I'm pretty sure it was east; I haven't had that book since I was a kid. I miss that book.

Eww sparkling.

o.O Flapjacks and pancakes are very different, ones made with milk, eggs and flour and fried, the other is made with butter, oats, etc and is cooked and hardens into a block of tasty, unless flapjacks and pancakes over there are different.

I am droooooooooling over those waffles.

Mm waffles.

Also nice cat.