I had a really nice night last night. One of those ones where you have a good combination of different chemicals in your body to put you in a really good place.

I have many fond memories of the evening, tho a particular highlight was nearing the end of the nigh. It must have been about 4am and I found myself with a container of bubble mixture and a huge bubble wand.

The party had well ended, and the hundred of people had diminished to a mere 9 or 10 people. As we sat outside in a carport, i stood in the centre of the circle and made bubbles. Mesmerised by my perfect creations. As everyone talked, I just made bubbles, bubbles, bubbles.

Then some guy leaned over and said to me, "Oy Tinkerbell, you're running out of fairy dust". Not liking this idea, and knowing very well that my magic could carry on to eternity, I decided that such non-believers did not belong in my presence, so I took off. Flitting in the moonlight over the rain trashed pebbles, I danced in the puddles, now left alone from the falling rain.

I stood alone at the top of the driveway, with my bubble wand outstretched, and I let the wind wipe through the glassy glaze. It created a beautiful stream of bubbles...flowing down the drive way, set against the cloudy sky with its misted moon.

I realised that no bubbles would be as beautiful as these, and no more could be possibly more mesmerizing. They were special. So, I took my container of bubble mix, which the boy had so superficially referred to as my fairy dust and poured it onto the gravel below me. For I knew that my fairy dust was not simply contained in a bubbly fluid, but in my mind, and this could go with me anywhere.

Yes, it was a drunken escapade, but it was beautiful and unique. Like me!