Today while washing dishes I had to encounter one of my most hated smells ever: the combination of hot peanut butter mixed with dish soap. I tried to figure out why I hate this smell so much, and my thoughts went back to my childhood and my mother's obsessive compulsive disorders: one of which was making sure every piece of recycling (plastic jars, metal cans, etc.) was thoroughly soaked and cleaned before put in the recycling bin. In particular, she wanted peanut butter jars to be clean, so she would fill the jar with hot water and dish soap and let it soak on the kitchen counter for hours. I don't know if this was some ingenious plan she had, or if it was due to pure laziness in regards to actually scrubbing something to get it clean. Anyway, I don't really see the point in cleaning recycling materials, since they are melted down to nothing and sterilized before they are used again. Still, this doesn't explain why I hate the smell so much. I must just relate it to bad memories of my mother. That's right, I heard it straight out of my psychologist's mouth, I am allowed to blame my mother for most of my psychotic quirks.

it's lonely making dinner for one person...

how do you guys draw so well with a mouse? i just can't do it.


my day is going a lot better. work was great. now i'm just bored. i'll prolly putz around on Second Life for the rest of the night.http://secondlife.com/ss/?u=8703d178d138b6e1b2047fe0ca2c5b90

i've had a really bad stomach ache since yesterday and it's 7am and i am trying to get ready for work. i need to eat breakfast so i can stand up for 4 hours, but i really feel like i am going to die. floppydonkey went home for the weekend for his grandpa's birthday so there is no one here to take care of me. so, of course i couldn't sleep with only myself in the bed, and the rain, and the loudness of elmwood on a saturday night. so that is prolly adding to my tummy ache. who goes shopping at the mall at 8am anyway??? oh that's right, no one, because it doesn't open until 10.

i was in a place like back home where i am originally from in the country. i didn't visually recognize any of the people i was with, but they were supposed to be people i knew, old friends of mine. my boyfriend wast here with me, too. we stumbled into some weird satanic ritual and we wanted to watch, but we didn't want to participate. the people (my old friends) saw us and told me i was pregnant. they said i had to give them my baby and i refused. so, one girl stabbed me in the right side into my stomach and up under my ribs. then all those people except my boyfriend disappeared. i was bleeding profusely and dropped to the ground. my mom came into the room and gave me the phone to call the emergency room. on the phone i asked the hospital to bring an ambulence because i needed to go to the emergency room. the girl on the phone told me that i would need to make an appointment and the soonest she could get me in would be a week. i screamed that i would be dead by then and asked "don't you have an emergency room where people gow hen there is a REAL emergency?" the girl seemed dumbfounded and replied that no, they don't have one of those. i hung up the phone. i didn't know what to do. my boyfriend suggeted i call a different hospital like ECMC (don't ask my why that particular hospital transported itself to middle of nowhere new york on the other side of the state). he was trying to put pressure on my wound and told me i would be alright. he was the only one actually doing something to help me. i was in the process of trying to get on my bicycle and ride to the hospital when the alarm clock went off.


there is something wrong with my brain i think, haha. i need to do either more or less drugs before i go to sleep.

a semi-drunken picture of my baby bunny, Ruby

the sad part is that if i wasn't drinking the picture would prolly have been worse

floppydonkey really wants someone to play basketball with