I slept in. I think it's because I fell down some stairs yesterday and beat my body up quite a bit. Who'd have thought you could even get a lump on your ass? Ha. My ass hurts, my elbow hurts, my head hurts... and I hurt my ego when I got back up whimpering in pain!

Anyway, I didn't get to do nearly as much as I wanted to today. I didn't get to go to the craft shop for good yarn, so I had to settle for crappy stuff at the bargain shop that doesn't even really match what I need. I needed a K crochet hook, but the biggest they had was a J. I've also now got overdue library books. Four of them to be exact. Can you believe that in two whole weeks I only managed to read about a chapter of Catcher in the rye (I will NEVER get sick of that book)? I also got to skim a bit of the vegetarian book which I forced into my dad's face to try and convince him that vegetarians don't eat as much food because the nutrients get absorbed better... anyway, I'm going to keep those and the other two I have, and then go and take out another book, "Sybil". Hoebag kinda sucked me into it, so I'm gonna have to read it.

I've been eating a lot of yoghurt lately, my body just cries out for it. I bought two 650ml tubs of it today and my dad couldn't believe me when I said I could eat it all. One of them is alost gone already. If I was having sex, I'd swear I was pregnant. Except I craved coconut chocolate bars and hot lemonade. Today was hard though... my dad and I went to the hospital to visit teeny tiny baby again. Except this time, Miranda's mother asked me if I wanted to hold him. I quickly told her he was too small, but I knew if I held him I would burst out crying. I had a hard time just trying to hold my (then) present tears back. My arms literally started to ache, like they do right now. It was easily one of the thoughest times in regards to try and act fine. And I didn't even come close.

The other night, I had a series of awful dreams... I think it started off with being on a plane and living the worst nightmare; the war in the middle east had started (did I mention how disgusted I am with Bush?) and our plane had accidentally flown into their airspace. The stewardess had turned the T.V.s on to a live news feed (can they do that?) and we were on breaking news. Iraq was setting up a missile to strike us down, and they were showing streaming radar on CNN. It was coming right for us and I was just freaking out knowing I was going to be shot down like that. But, we somehow managed to survive and then I was in the airport. Next thing I know, I was with Damieon and I was helpless. He was raping me, and I couldn't get away. I fast-forward 9 months, and I'm alone reading a book. I had a contraction, and another. They started to get really painful, and next thing I know, I'm in a hospital *shudders* with my little Brayden. He was so small, I almost felt like I was going to break him if I picked him up... but he was nothing less than perfect, and he was alive. I was so happy, and I remember taking him home, putting him in his carseat and he looked so tiny in it, and he was practically swimming in his clothes... but he looked so healthy and happy. I woke up so depressed, and stayed that way all day. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, it's been so hard to cope with everything.

Yesterday was my parents' anniversary, numero 26. Except my "mother" is living out of town with her awful boyfriend and my dad's taking care of us and didn't even want to hear about anniversaries. They've been separated for at least four years now, something like that. I don't understand why my dad doesn't just divorce her, they'll never get back together. But my dad has hope and if it keeps him going, so be it.

And last night I dreamt that the Osbournes lived across the street from me and I could always hear them cursing at each other from my house. They were cute though, Ozzy and Sharon. Kelly was a doll too. I wish they would adopt me and my dad and my dog... how many dogs do they have anyway?!

I have to pee.

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