Waking up from a dream starring your best friend (except with hair belonging to another buddy of yours, with a scary 60s headband in pink) as an FBI agent somewhere around the Senate, partnered with another agent played by Samuel L. Jackson, and the two of them coming down a hallway into the area in a dance number that looks across between Men In Black and West Side Story (as choreographed by Hansen and the Backstreet Boys) ... entirely surreal.
(The hair? Belonged to jai_dit, the parts of it that he got cut off. It was a few inches long, very puffy to the point of starting to go curly, and definitely, without a doubt, blond.)
The Green Glitter Incident, establishing that Shawn does not, in fact, have a monopoly on Bad Physics Moments.
I made chicken fried rice tonight. Heavy on the five-spice, light on the garlic, but I'll get better at it as time goes on. It was supper, there are six iterations freezing for lunches, and there's a nice large container of it in the refrigerator. We'll see who gets to it first.