Had a fun afternoon with Beth today as we commiserated about our various woes, discussed respective plans for the future, and evaluated the men in our lives, or the lack thereof. Snerk. Now, a few weeks ago with Janis at the Edge, we drank Gray Goose vodka and I listened to her "men are pigs" speech.Then a drunk guy came up to us and rambled for awhile. I don't understand where she finds them. The last ill-advised episode was with a Kurd on the run from Iraq who kept bemoaning the loss of his long-lost girlfriend the entire time, before disappearing into the ether that is. Then, just before that, we had Mike, who stole from all of her friends (Lisa still insists that that's where the video camera went.) Anytime I was around Mike, I always felt as if all the air were being sucked out of the room. Brain cells leaked out of my ear in his presence. Also, he left her with those two giant mutant Godzilla dogs who leap up on anybody who comes to the house. However, he did go back to a trailer park in Florida with his old army buddy and hasn't returned yet, so thank God for small favors. Then there was Scott. If you're living in your parents' basement when you're 45, somewhere along the line you've made a bad career choice, I must say.

Anyway, y'all should know that I do not have a stellar record of journal writing. In fourth grade, I failed a class because I just simply refused to keep a personal journal, as was required. Every single day, I'd write, "Today, we had an informative class. We went on a field trip to the newspaper offices. Then we did an assignment." I'd keep getting comments back like "This is like a secretary report!! Where are your FEELINGS???" Then I'd hand in journal entries written entirely in code. I found a code used by pilots during WWII, I remember, and one whole entry was in that. Anyway, the point is that I ended up getting an F in the class, and was warned darkly that it would "go down on your permanent record." Do you ever wonder where all those permanent records actually ended up? Maybe they're all in a filing cabinet being guarded by Filch.

Time and time again, I refused to have an lj. "I'll never get off the computer," I said. So I fought the evil lj, and I won... in a way... maybe not really... sad, isn't it?