2011-05-16 - 6:20 p.m.

The funniest thing ever is that when my cat Daisy Mae fights with the other cats (she fights exclusively with the other two females), I have to yell, "Daisy! Put your mohawk down!!" because she doesn't raise her hair like a normal cat, she just raises the hair on her spine when she gets angry. It's ridiculous.

Also. I might be freaking out. Seriously. I've been threatening a big explosion for a long time but I am pretty sure that I am 99% primed for it. Freaking out. Totally. I've got thirty seven years worth of stuff to let loose. You should be scared.

My first memory in life is being pushed in a stroller down the hallway of an apartment building by a bunch of kids. My next memory is burning those sulfur snakes with my mother and a bunch of kids at that same apartment place (so I know I was about one and a half based on the history I've been given? Right? Fourth of July at that apartment place must have made me about one and a half.). And the ice cream truck, I remember the ice cream truck. My third memory is my father telling me stories while I am in a crib, he is sitting on the floor and I am in my crib and he is making up a story about a princess. My fourth memory is eating mushrooms and my mother telling my father that is is surprising that I like both mushrooms and onion (I still hate onions).

I am now thirty seven years old. I've had memories for thirty six-ish of those years. That's a lot of stuff to remember. That's a lot of stuff to forget.


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