At first she was slow and happy and went to draw on what she had been drawing. And then she got a bit cross and asked a question of someone that made him angry with her..and so she went to The State of Insanity and *LuRkEd*.

And whilst she *LuRkEd* Tarno sent her a Lurker's hand signal that said "Quit lurking and get the Hell out here!" and she of course had to pull out her very own Lurker's Dictionary and look it up and as she climbed onto the book with the very largish letters she found without thinking that she had become very teenie tiny...and she stood on the page aghast at what he had truly signaled and he apologized profusely. And so began WhymsiqueL's adventure.

And of course she forgave him and sat on the edge of the dic. *LuRkInG* and grabbing at little e'mails out of the air and *sighed* and began to rip words out of the big book and soon in a very much seeming flurry she had torn a very deep hole and therein she sat and watched the feets go along.

And at this exactly same time The Chick and Tarno sat waaaaaaaaay up at the bar and drank Crown Royal and she thought to herself if she drank CR she would and she slugged down her cocoa and climbed out of her hole and down the very steepish side of the dic. and avoided the feets and came right up to The Chick's very large Motercycle Tap Boot and threw up her fishhook and climbed the long steep way to the top and sat admiring the view.

But at this very moment The Timeout guy decided to tickle The Chick and so WhymisqueL was found to be holding desperately to her M.T.B. laces and wishing she'd never got up there at all and as soonly as she possibly could she swung across on her fishhook and clung to the tableleg. And then an unhappy arrived and of course she was so very unhappy and WhymsiqueL felt she must wave but ohhhhh forsoothe..in waving she began to slide and hoping very oh so very much that she would not get any splinters in her..eh...she fell into a puddle and poured herself into a thimble.

And what else should one do in a thimble but roll? And so she began to roll across the hardwooded floor and not thinking about the feets she rolled clear across to the wall and got herself up and was oh my terribly wobbly and thimbledazed...and so fell against to and into the wall a bit (and as everyone knows Whymsie walks through them) and immediately she became stuck halfway in and halfway out of the paisley printed wall paper.

And so..there she sat of course..for it is hard to get quite unstuck by one's self from paisley printed paper and Timeout helped her out and poured her coffee and told her to snap out of it, and The Chick picked her up and carried her to the bar and gave her her own keg, which is absolutely her favorite bar drink provided she has a straw, and so she sat smug on the bar sucking her keg and told Timeout "no I won't come out" and leaned against one of The Chick's hairs.

Hmmmmm...someone came along...someone waved..who's to remember exactly who it was but by then she was feeling her...um..oats, shall we say, and she waved her straw and it was very beery and left little beery droplets on The Chick and as WhymsiqueL turned to dry her off she misfooted and slipped down onto the top of the keg and was very near slipping down the metal into the large open hole that all kegs have somewhere and she cried a teeny help and luckily The Chick-being a chick and all-has very good ears, and she reached down and again saved the WhymsiqueL who was very, very grateful.

Sitting there like that with her head getting a bit fuzzy she thought she now ought to check the beerometer for her percentiles and so she crawled across the bar kicking peanuts aside as she went, mere shells of their former selves, and stood and looked to find out her readages. Another waver of course..this one to the room, and so, being the gracious soul she is and all, she waved, knowing that they would not see as she was so very tiny after all and behind the beerometer and in *LuRk* mode anyhow and so felt very safe until, yes, they saw her and proceeded to exclaim for a sentence or so and not truly knowing them she ran to find something larger to hide behind and fell off the edge of the bar and floated down on her skirt, quite like Alice, and thought to herself, "this is big."

Now Whymsie always lands on her feet and so as that is how it is that is what she did. And she walked around the bar and made her way as best she could through the feets of the many thems and found a nice wall to sit at and lean into. And during this few sessions of postages a fictional became rather attached to watching her and his name was pulp after a song, but she thought him rather fictionalish and so she watched him back and waved to Articwolf who had only just arrived and sent a paisley paper plane into the ear of another..and as the conversations about the room went on and about she felt she should walk very up close to see who this pulp fellow really truly was and so she slipped through the feet and came to stand at the very bottom of him and she looked waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay up and scrinched her eyes and he looked waaaaaaaaaay down and implied upon her that he had formerly been one of the now defunked nutTz bros. and that he was the left nutT precisley and knowing herself to be very very small and the nutTz to be very very nutTz, she ran to the other side of the room very very quickly.

Not noticing the fan. And WhymsiqueL stood in the blowing of it with her hair standing apart and away back there straight out and soon decided the breeze of it just fine enough upon which to float and so she did. The backstroke. And she swam through with her skirt all very much in place, as the fan was not blowing up it, until she reached the funny little ribbon that comes on all fans and to this she held whilst she floated and watched the room.

Again with the fictional. He somehow had decided she would be much more at home and in comfort in his palm..and so he offered it to her..and knowing him to be a bit...but still and yet always a very decent sort..she considered...and she continued to consider as he was knocked down and upon by a youngish old friend who was very sweet but for knocking him over like that and so she decided he was safe when next again he offered her his palm and she swam a bit and hooked her shoes into his pinky and puuuuuuuuulled and fell all a bit disheveled into the center of his hand.

And she sat in his palm for a very great while and could see the middles of peoples instead of just the feets. And when she tired of this she began to climb up his sleeve and it was going to be a very long and hard trail to get up all that way but she climbed just the same. The fictional, being the decent sort that he was, even as a former nutT, raised his arm so she was climbing "cliffhanger" style. He did not know her to be the accomplished tightrope walker she has always been, even without her umbrella, even before the State, and so she balanced herself up and walked along his arm. And being still a natural nutT at heart, he blew on her to see what she would do, and she thanked the stars he'd not eaten garlic, she only wobbled very little and until the last was not at all much afraid and then ran to hold onto his collar.

WhymsiqueL stood on the fictional's shoulder, steadied by a finger, and could very nearly see eye to eye with all about, but for those looking the other way, and those on the floor, and was very happy. The fictional looked down from the corner of his eye and his eye was very large indeed and again he took it upon himself to get a closer look and so he brought her round on his finger up quite close to his face. And she was a bit nervous not wanting to comment on the upclose features too awfully much as when you are as very small as she those can be very out of circumstance. And so she reached across and sllllllliiiiiiiipppppped and was holding once again for dearest life (as she is always slipping on something), and he brought up his other palm and must have thought her very clumbsy, though before he had stated he thought her brave to climb all that very way so high up. And she caught her breath to her and thanked him kindly for again saving her as she only had 27 lives borrowed from her three cats and would very much hate to lose one.

And while she talked she noticed she was growing and WhymsiqueL saw her feet now hung over the edge of his palm and he very gently set her down and she was eye to knee and growing into herself hoping her clothes would also grow as she would hate to be standing in the middle in only her blush. And she felt her hair growing and she grew up almost into herself very quickly and watched some crying and some sadness and grew a bit quieter and when she was all inside herself again she turned to the former nutT, who was now a song but she still thought of as very fictional, and introduced herself and thanked him for his palm. And she walked to the wall and tore a large piece of paisley paper and sat halfway in and halfway out and folded paper planes and sent them looping into the air, watching them float and glide and fly. Happy.

At the end of this you may wonder how WhymsiqueL can sit happy after seeing the sads and the tears. Because chatting is full of life. It is happy and sad and funny and silly and dynamic and dull and angry and calming and relaxing and touching and loving. It is feeling and being not alone. And the wrongs sometimes become rights and the losses sometimes become gains. It is a place to be. It is a constantly changing book with new writers and new ideas and new friends and steady friends and you know that you are not alone. The more you give the more you get..as in all things. It is content.