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I blame this node on Oprah and Dr. Phil, who made me cry once again yesterday.

Extreme Memories, kay? Memories and more that still bring me to tears... or at least choke me up.

• Having my mother throw furniture at me and then hitting me in a rage when I was 10 because I spilled nail-polish remover. The first of many rages.

• Listening to "Street Spirit" by Radiohead. Anytime.

• My grandfather's funeral, after having years of nightmares of said event before it happened.

• Standing in the garage between my father and first step-mother when I was 12, my step-mother leaving in the van with my brothers, with each parent yelling at me to choose who I wanted to stay with.

• When my first truly good boyfriend I'd been with for a year revealed to me he was in love with someone else. Then he wouldn't let me leave the car and he cried and cried, kissing my shoulder. And all I wanted was to be away from the scene and be angry, at least for a little while.

• The thought of the beauty of my current boyfriend, in all aspects. The realization of a love I feel there of which I never knew I could have the capacity for.

The beauty of a person when they reveal who they truly are- be it good or bad- which is just so rare.

• When the first agent showed interest in my novel. My dream, since I was practically a toddler, has been to become a novelist.

• Seeing my father cry when I was 13, the first revelation that he was more than just my father. He was human and had weaknesses.

Limp Bizkit and/or Fred Durst. Existing.

• Oprah and Dr. Phil. Duh. I must stop tuning in. (To the TV, at least.)

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