Error: I'm afraid this is the first I've heard of a "writeback" flavoured Blosxom. Try dropping the "/+writeback" bit from the end of the URL.
So...
Last update over six months ago...on par for all of my previous attempts at keeping a journal. I really like the concept, it's refreshing to find stuff that I've written when I'm moving or getting ready for a reformat. Reading through all of the stupid shit I bitched about and reminiscing on how much easier my life seemed back when I wrote it, though, seems to lead me to a really distressing pattern.
I also like the concept of a web journal, something I'm not going to lose or spill water on. So why don't I wax sarcastic more frequently and bore the dwindling number of my friends who bother to check in? My last updates were from paradise where I spent a week in good company drunk, smitten, and entertained. And since then...work, occasionally school.
I really miss Justin. I have friends that I've leaned on since he left for Toronto, but no one I have as much in common with. We've talked occasionally since he left, just like we were sitting on a rotten, cat-sprayed couch on that creaking deck. I guess the bullshit I see and hear and have to deal with every day has just seemed a lot less bearable since I lost the ability to go home and laugh with him about it. He and Amy should be in Belle Plaine for x-mas.
Dave's in Japan. I've been really struggling with enrollment for next semester, leaning more to the side of not enrolling. But every time I see he's updated, it reminds me that I actually do have a reason for getting a degree, even if it's masturbatory and short-sighted.
Thanksgiving should be an ordeal. We've had relatively calm nuclear family holiday dinners for the past few years, but this year we're hosting family and friends.
I just got a promotion. Which means that I'll actually have a title and some recognition for the work that I've been doing for the past seven months. Overdue.
So...there we have it.
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