(no subject)
Why is it that I am most compelled to post in my LJ when life is especially mundane? Oh well. It's not like many people read it. I keep all of the juicy stuff for my journal, my pretty, paper journal. However, even THAT is getting banal as of late.
20 March 2006
"Life is confusing me and I don't know why. Will figure it out some day. On the upside: lost two pounds this week. Can it be from the excess amounts of vodka and maki that I ingested this weekend?"
Yes. My diary reads like this. Really, I am just like Bridget Jones- except slightly less frumpy, less British, and less fat.
Wow. Here is my verdict. In order to make this journal more interesting, I must have these things happen to me, in no particular order:
- Take a hot air balloon ride which goes awry. Become injured in the crash, and get amnesia. I will be forced to create a new identity for myself, and continue on a quest to learn who I was, a la General Hospital.
-Be bitten by a rabid monkey, contract the disease and sue the ass off of the owners of the Greater Vancouver Zoo.
-Pretend to have acquired the ability to predict the future, and then go all Madame Cleo on everybody's ass, predicting their day of death for a reasonable 5.99/minute.
Maybe then my journal (and blog) will be of some entertainment. One can dream. haha
20 March 2006
"Life is confusing me and I don't know why. Will figure it out some day. On the upside: lost two pounds this week. Can it be from the excess amounts of vodka and maki that I ingested this weekend?"
Yes. My diary reads like this. Really, I am just like Bridget Jones- except slightly less frumpy, less British, and less fat.
Wow. Here is my verdict. In order to make this journal more interesting, I must have these things happen to me, in no particular order:
- Take a hot air balloon ride which goes awry. Become injured in the crash, and get amnesia. I will be forced to create a new identity for myself, and continue on a quest to learn who I was, a la General Hospital.
-Be bitten by a rabid monkey, contract the disease and sue the ass off of the owners of the Greater Vancouver Zoo.
-Pretend to have acquired the ability to predict the future, and then go all Madame Cleo on everybody's ass, predicting their day of death for a reasonable 5.99/minute.
Maybe then my journal (and blog) will be of some entertainment. One can dream. haha