February 8, 2002
Rape and Pillage
I wish I had better things to do than to rape my fellow diarylanders' pages for diaryings and cliques to join. But, alas, I do not. Just check out my Gallery 'o Shite to learn how bored I have been. There's a link above, as well, for future reference.
Been trying to stay off the phone a little, though, in hopes that the library will call.
They didn't.
I think I am anal retentive. I was browsing around for rings to join, and I was astonished by the number of people who just created a ring and left the code as it was, didn't personalize it or even change the colors from the good old Diaryland periwinkle.
Come on, you all had that crayon in your crayon box.
At any rate, I can't bring myself to join a ring with an ugly button. Even if I really want to be a part of it.
Maybe it's just me.
I also quit all of the rings I created when I switched to the Me-and-Ryan layout, so they must all be running about willy-nilly by now.
Not that creating a diaryring really takes much leadership skill. Good thing.
Clearly my impoverished, unemployed state is taking a toll on my sanity.
Not that there was much hanging about to begin with. My mind has been on a permanent vacation since the pregnancy scare, threatening an anurism or an embellism or something equally as gruesome and life threatening. Wish I could join her on whatever sandy beach she's lounging on, imbibing non-alcoholic fruity drinks and chatting it up with other vacationing minds.
She left me with my fucking psychotic body. That's clearly unkind.
Off to check out a few websites about Jump, Little Children. New band I discovered on diaryring pillaging spree. Smashing good.
Fuck me. Today is my one-year anniversary with Diaryland.
Eh, I'll celebrate later.
astera at 5:50 p.m.