11:14 p.m. | 2003-08-20 I Have A Quirky Closet. I only have one closet in my Dreamspace so all my closet stuff, including clothes, shares the same space. Fortunately, it�s a pretty good-sized closet. That�s kinda quirky in the first place. This closet is located in the livingroom near the kitchen which isn�t all that weird except for one small thing. See, when I cook, my closet retains the scent of whatever I whipped up, for DAYS despite the exhaust system in my kitchen. The smell is so strong that it�s actually somewhat painful to open it when I�m hungry. At least for the first couple of days after I cook. Generally, I cook a week�s worth of breakfasts and lunches on Wednesdays. For example, I threw ribs and BBQ sauce in the crock pot this morning, then I came home and cooked bacon (for BLT sandwiches), pasta (for pasta salad) and prepared green salads. On the days that I cook, the smell envelops not only my Dreamspace but the hallway too. Here�s the real quirky thing though. For a couple of days after I cook, my clothes emanate a lingering odor of whatever I�ve prepared. That causes things like this to happen. (Random Person:) Oh, what perfume are you wearing? You smell really good. (CI:) I�m not wearing any perfume. (Random Person:) Well, you smell� um� yummy. I just say thanks and move on. Tomorrow, I shall smell of BBQ sauce and bacon. And, chances are that I�ll never microwave popcorn in my Dreamspace for fear that I�ll burn it. I received the statement recently for the credit card that�s stalking me. The Credit Card Company backed out the annual fee twice. I now have a credit balance. But, since I don�t trust them, I probably won�t charge against that credit. If I do, I�m quite sure that they�ll then back out the second credit and send me a bill. I swear this card IS destined to be my lasting legacy. Instead of passing my heritage on to a cherubic child, I�ll be leaving my imprint via a small piece of plastic. I so want to close out this account but I fear the power of this particular string of digits. I guess it could be worse, right? Why, oh why, does summer make me so flirtatious with responsibilities? I really need to finish unpacking. Really, someone should smack me upside my head. Figuratively, not literally, of course. Feel free to do so yourself. your thoughts? seed flower