2001-06-21 - 4:13 p.m.
Happy Anniversary! Whoo! One Whole Year! And I'm not dead yet!
I was trying to think of some moderately amusing anecdote to tell today. I thought I could describe my grand vision for this diary, and how my wildest dreams have finally come true...
... and then I remembered, nah. I was just doing this so I'd have a little place to put the things that I liked, and maybe other people could see them too.
So in honor of that, today's entry is going to be entirely submissions. Wait, what? Well, hey, if it weren't for y'all, I wouldn't have run across half the great diaries that are my daily reads today. Thanks - it's been a blast.
Also, there's one teensy organizational thing I should mention. DiaryLand has a limit on how big your entries can be! Yes! It came as quite a shock. So now the big list (of 374 people, not counting today's) is on two pages - A-L and M-Z.
(Oh, know what else is cool? Not only is this diary one year old, this is my 100th entry. Hooray! My overwhelming need for nice round numbers is highly pleased! I've averaged one entry every 3.65 days - could be better, but that's not too bad.)
While all you people think my diary is just something for me to do to pass time while I'm at work, my interior motive is to join to ranks of Diaryland stars such as Uncle Bob, Anenigma, and Perceptions instead of just being the paparazzi.
Last I checked, you could speed 125 miles per hour through Detroit with an open beer in one hand, your exposed genitalia in the other and do a u-turn in front of the 23rd precinct. As long as you weren’t killing, raping or pillaging – Detroit’s finest usually doesn’t have a big problem with you.
That's what Hamlet wanted, some Gothy/angsty allies to take his side and trash-talk Claudius. Some lackey that was always by his side, making fun of Claudius and indulging Hamlet in his darkness. If he had had some wormy, Dungeons-and-Dragons-type buddy, instead of the gallant Horatio, Hamlet would have grown out of his "man delights not me" stage and gone on with his life, with this period behind him to look back on and laugh at.
From SilverGeek (via Elizabeth)
ahh! noo! am i emo? (hehe, say that three times fast) i'm beginning to think that i am. sure the glasses help with that, but being emo isn't about glasses and sweaters. it's about whinyness.... and.. and... whinyness... i'm not. so there.
You want to know the truth of why good girls go bad? It's kind of complicated. It's because the real good girls, the girls with good hearts and powerful minds are the bad girls. Those goody two shoes good girls are actually bad. They know how to whine and connive and deny their way to the top, to impress and deceive you that they are good and we are bad. Bad girls are bad because we own up to everything we do. Good girls are good because they blame it on us.