i left this all alone

interesting things that are in my room, i don't remember being mine, but seem as though they could be something i own:

-petuli oil
-pepperment oil for consumption
-"peace and calm" scent
-several strange, earthy shaped beads
-three candles, one shaped and colored like a globe
-season two of "sex and the city"
-four multipacks of thread, each featuring as many colors as a crayola box
-several light bulbs
-three karosine lamps: two of which are quite comparable to the ones used throughout my childhood and could be the same; one that looks like a midget of the lamp world
-a bottle of aloe vera
-a can of lysol spray (but now that i think about it, i'm pretty sure this was here when i lived here, but that's not to say that i put it here)
-a small, flower-infested pad and pencil
-some sort of tree
-a few yards of fabric

there are a few other things, but they seem appropriate, given the addition of a sink and counter to the space. another list that i could create could be "things i wish i would remember but time and time again i forget", but the highlight of that list would be to put sunscreen on areas that you would think would never get sunburned, like your inner thighs and the area of your back that is, in a normal and fuctional world, usually covered by a bathingsuite and, in my mind, is, but alas, always manages to get sunburned. a good example of this would be the top of your bottom crack. i'm guessing that it only takes so much force from water to push down the cloth that rapidly expells water under normal circumstances, and that is my only explaination of the neon red color of much of my ass. also the cause of my terrible discomfort at this very moment. also on this list would be the wonderlous high that one feels when they are being waited on by one's parents. that is a great feeling, but often is canceled by the consequenctial emotions of guilt and guilt. last highlight would be that wine gives a very bad hangover. and that i hate wal*mart. and taht my father is crazy. and that flirting with mechanics will always get you at least somewhere. and that i hate beef. and how much i love love love making fun of prissy girls at the lake who sit on the bows of boats, sipping water or, if they are brave and don't mind the extra calories, beer, and wear their tiny bathingsuits that barely cover their nipples. most often, i love driving by on either my jetski or behind my boat and either spray the shit out of them and get their perfect, curled hair all damp, or make the boys htey are with wish they were with a girl who prefers to be behind the boat rather than sitting on the front of it, respectively.

other than that, long day tomorrow and my body is certainly feeling its age as my entire back hurts at teh mention of movement. however, all pain usually comes at some sort of greatness, as i successively held on to my giant, nylon covered tube for six successive 360s, whish is a feat, as anybody who has ever been slingshoted around behind a boat can attest to. and i am very proud of this accomplishment of mine.