Vomiting with excitement: why don’t I do it?

I’m watching 30 Rock right now, which I might write more about at some point as it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened. But anyway, it got me thinking – Jack Donaghy wants to remember something from his childhood that made him so happy he threw up, as he feels that’s something you lose when you grow up. Is it true? Has something made me so happy in my “adult” life that I’ve become genuinely giddy?

The Amiga 500 we got Christmas 1989 made me squee with delight, even if Nightbreed gave me nightmares. The Lego pirate ship was the best Lego I ever had. The batch of Red Dwarf videos were a genuine, and very pleasant surprise. Granted, I don’t think I ever threw up with excitement – just when I accidentally got drunk off sangria in Tenerife when I was about six years old.

I get excited about things now, don’t you worry. I’m not as dead inside as I may initially seem. Giddy? No. I like and appreciate presents I’m given, but even this sweet-ass dressing gown I’ve been spending most of my weekends in (point in getting dressed: none), while useful and altogether brilliant, isn’t something that made me do the Happy Dance around the mean streets of Bournemouth.

Would anything make me squeal with delight? I have no idea. Why have I only used gifts as examples? I have very little idea. Am I going to come to – or even attempt to come to – a reasonable conclusion? No.

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