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My journal is a very groovy thing. I started it about a month ago and since have posted in it  several times a week, day, or even hour. That's only when I'm extremely sick and twisted. I like to blab in my journal. I vent a lot. I have a lot to vent about, usually. I've managed to piss a few people off doing so, but I really don't give a shit. There's a reason why people used to keep journals private.
A sample entry:
Sunday, September 9th, 2001

The long entry -- food, hair, and religion.
8:52 am.
"Sail Away Sweet Sister" - Queen.

My mum and my sister are fighting upstairs. About what, you ask? Sunday School. They're fighting about whether or not my sister should go to Sunday School, cos it starts today. And if she doesn't go, my dad'll piss and moan and hold it against my mum. Isn't that wonderful?

Personally, I think it's charming.

Yesterday started out as a very good day and went downhill. I woke up around 9, managed to chum around on the computer until 11, and then my mum announced that she could take me to that record store if I wanted to go. But my sister wanted her hair cut. She decided she was just gonna wait, so we went to this store.

It was AWESOME. Wasn't as big as Jerry's, but they did have a lot more 45s, especially of Paul and George. They had Paul's "Arrow Through Me" b/w "Old Siam, Sir." Who bought that other than Paul? Anyway, they had one of George's rarer 45s where he covered some song by the Stereos. It was $20, so I chose to pass this time. They did, however, have damn near mint copies of 33 & 1/3 and George Harrison on vinyl, which I proceeded to buy. Then I went back to the Monkees 45s, and they had about 10 copies of "Joanne". But after much searching, they also had a promo-only copy of "Roll with the Flow" b/w "Keep On," so I chose to buy that. And they had these buttons with the Monkees on 'em -- bought 4.

As we were about to leave, the guy told us that he had one of Nez' LPs somewhere. So we decided to go get something to eat, and when we came back, he had it: a cutout copy of Magnetic South. I had already spent $48, but I decided to shell out the $20 for it. You don't see that everyday.

So we come home and my sister's sitting on the front stoop, and as soon as we get out of the car, she asks to get her hair cut. My grandparents are coming over for dinner today, so my mom had a lot to do. We decided to do the hair thing anyway, and I decided to get mine cut. Bad idea. We went to Supercuts and I told my mom that I wasn't sure if I wanted to get bangs or not (I haven't had bangs since I was 5 or 6 years old), and she said to try something new. So the woman cut too short, above my shoulders, and gave me these little wispy bangs.

I look like I'm 5.

I took a bath last night and tried to curl the damn things and the wouldn't curl, so I came downstairs crying to my mother and she called me crazy. I told her my dilemma about them, and then persisted that it really in fact had nothing to do with the hair, I was going to be ugly no matter what. Because I am. Even I did have long, straight hair like I always wanted to, then I'd worry about my face. I have a fat face. And if I had a slimmer face, then I'd worry about my thighs. I have fat thighs. It's an endless cycle.

So I've made a conscientious decision: I want to become a vegetarian. It's definitley healthier. And I was never particularly keen on eating animals, either. I figure I'll allow myself a hamburger every couple of months (because I cannot live without Big Macs) and that'll be that. As long as I butter and salt everything, I like vegetables. Who knows.

I'll probably change my mind tomorrow, but what the hell?

If you want to read more, you can check out the rest of my journal, usually updated daily, at