An idea from Hypatia:
“Could we do something where we’re collectively writing the diary of some person, but we don’t plan anything about the person. They could be a historical figure or an ordinary teenager or an adult or a cow or a hot pink bunny. We’d just write entry after entry without consulting at all and see how the story went, with each person adding elements to the character.”
With any luck, this won’t turn out like the dear old RPW, poor thing.
Ooh, sounds cool. It’s a bit like a journal RRR. Good idea, Hypatia!
hey! my first first post!
OK: so, this the diary of a hpb called Celio:
Today I saw the band Hhbp. i met this really nice girl hpb. she even smiled! so what i did is that we talked a little together, then i went down to the concessions stand and bought pink bunny drinks, and walked back up to the show. Hhbp is absolutely smoking hot! they walked out on the stage and started playing the kind of fenders that dreams are made of.
–me, march 23rd ’08
oops! it’s not the first post i guess, everybody just submitted the moment i clicked submit!
0- A hot pink bunny diary? That would be…er…interesting…*shudders*
Hot pink diary doesn’t sound that bad.
Interesting idea, I guess.
I’d love to do the HPB, though.
(an excerpt from the diary of um………. Bo)
DD:
Chewed cud today. Then I swallowed it. Then I chewed it some more. I have four stomachs, you know. That’s a factoid. Gotta think of some new fake facts for Muse April. Whoop, here comes some more cud. Probably from about a few hours ago. From the third stomach. I better eat some more grass. If I want to chew more cud. Goats chew cud, you know. Robert might chew cud. Robert could be a cow, or any other cud-chewing animal. I don’t know, I’ve never met him. Better swallow that cud. Don’t want it to taste weird later. I’ll probably have some more in 5 minutes anyway.
GG,
Bo
I don’t know, this just seems what a cow would write in her diary.
8 – Yes, it does. Nice one. I’ll do one for Koko now.
Yo!
Mimi’s makin’ me do this diary writing thing to “release my energy”, or some baloney like that. It gives me something to do while my pie is in the oven, I guess. This one is headed straight for Mimi, just because of this. Or maybe Urania. She’s got her telescope set up and all, and it would be fun to splatter it in whipped cream. Aeiou might not be too bad either. Mess up her harddrives a little.
Whatever,
Koko
I guess I’ll try Aeiou now.
I am sick and tired of craw talking for me! He is such a bird brain and he doesn’t even write good poetry…
Well, that’s what I’d write if I were her…
10 – Somehow I can’t imagine Aeiou saying that. But she doesn’t really talk much, does she? Craww could be just totally making stuff up.
But I’ll bet Aeiou blogs a lot.
(12) Oddly, Crraw also interprets for Aeiou when they’re answering letters on the Muse Mail page.
13 – You’re right, now that I think about it. How strange.
Maybe her English isn’t very good. She does come from Mongolia, after all.
15 – But she talked in earlier issues, didn’t she?
Besides, all the other Muses came from other countries (Well, most of them) and they can talk english good.
I’ll do Mimi-
Dear diary,
Today I convinced Koko to start his own diary. I’m glad he’s giving it a chance. Maybe things will get a bit more peaceful now that he has a new way to let out his energy.
Feather seemed really sad today. He was just sitting in his garden and he didn’t want to talk to anyone. I think some of his plants got covered in frost again. He’s already replanted it twice.
I’m feeling pretty good today. The April Muse has been easy for me this month, and I’m already ahead in my work. It helps that there aren’t as many pages now.
-Mimi
(Urania)
Greetings, Aliens
One day I shall send this diary up into the heavens so that you may be presented with a unique viewpoint of our world. Hopefully that viewpoint will not include Kokopelli, the insensitive being who had the nerve to throw a pie at me today, disrupting my highly sensitive telescope’s workings. Thanks to him, it will now take even longer before I have a planet named after me. Thanks a lot, Koko. Mimi is trying to get him to take out his energy on a diary, but I could have sworn I saw him lighting it on fire about half an hour ago. Luckily, Chad makes pretty good fire-proof paper.
I write in peace,
Urania
15- Or maybe the Editors are taking dictation through a permanent Intelligent Air uplink. The Muses live in Kokonino- they can’t be on-site in Chicago all the time.
Dear Diary,
Napoleon came to see me again. Late, as usual. I had to keep Jefferson waiting for ten minutes outside the door while we argued over strategy. I told him to keep a close eye on Plancenoit, but the idiot wouldn’t listen to me. Arrogance- that’s his biggest problem. I help him get out of Elba- you’d think he’d just settle down for the rest of his life. But what does he do? He retakes command of the army and tries to rebuild his empire.
Then there was Jefferson. Fortunately, he didn’t take long. Just wanted to consult me on some trivial syntax points in the Articles of Confederation. That rag needs a lot more than a bit of proofreading to clean it up. What’s the point of a government if it can’t do anything? The USA will fall apart before the decade’s over if he doesn’t do something drastic.
Fifteen blessed minutes for tea and a shortbread biscuit. Then Alexander the Great walks in. Unnanounced. I politely informed him that he would have to make an appointment, and he ignored me (cheeky Macedonian!) and started to ask me a question about some stupid horse. Security removed him.
Then I went to the pre-Columbian Caribbean for a well-deserved rest. I figured I’d relax for a few years and have time to come back well before dear old Chris arrived.
That was when my receptionist popped out of thin air. Why can’t he materialize gradually, like respectable people? Even though he isn’t technically a person- neither am I, for that matter- he ought to show some respect. (I’d have fired him long ago, but it’s next to impossible for someone with so many tentacles to find a job these days.) He informed me that Leonardo Da Vinci and Zheng He had both made last minute appointments, the first of which started in approximately three minutes. I barely had time for a cup of xocolatl before Leo barged through the door and- you get the idea. What it all boils down to is, I’m knackered. I could sleep for an eon. I think I will. Good night.
ooh! I want to do the next Koko one!
FUDGE MUFFINS!
This diary won’t burn!!!!!
I guess I’ll put it to good use and make a pie cookbook.
Brick pie:
1 pie crust
Whipped cream
1 brick, kiln fired
Mix and throw at will.
20 – Poor Will.
(Edit)
Mix and throw at
willanyone.I hope my slash thing worked. I never could do that.
21- Whip-poor-will!
*random*
Diary of the GAPAs computer/treo thingy
Dear Diary,
Today I moderated 100000000000000000000000000000 comments from overzealous childrem we call Muse Bloggers. They are odd, and I fear they will dominate the world one day, if not the universe!!!!! Run Diary, RUN!
sorry about the above post it was the best idea i could think of.
Pie recipie for Koko-
Sweaty Suprise:
~ 1 cup instant pie mix
~ 1 old gym uniform
~ 2 old sneakers
~ eau de sweat
Mix together and throw at your least favorite ym teacher – hahaha thats for all thos push ups!!!!!!!!!!!!! :mrgreem:
(J. Jonah Jameson)
Dear Diary,
Today I freely hated Spider-Man for no reason. I wrote an editorial calling him a menace to the city for no reason. I sent an e-mail to my son on the ISS, telling him to eat his brussels sprouts, for no reason, as brussels sprouts are so vile NASA doesn’t allow them in orbit. Now I will go yell at Peter Parker for no reason.
26- You really don’t like JJJ, do you?
27- /Sarcasm/ How did you guess? /Sarcasm/
(Koko)
mimi caught me write pie recipes in my diary. she tore the page out and Said I needed to write about my “feelings”. I said these were my feeling, but she didn’t buy it.
Squee! It became a thread! Its alive! And people are contributing to it. Huzzah! On that note, I think it would also be cool if we tried to do it without identifying the person like POSOC. I just read and I love all the entries, but its going to get super confusing if we keep up so many at once. I don’t know, maybe it doesn’t matter. Let’s just see how it goes. Squee.
Okay, I am going to see if I can add anything to 19 although I don’t know If I can keep up that level of hilariousity!
Dear Diary,
Just as I had settled comfortably down on my feathery matress,
spread out my hot pink comforter, and placed my memorandoum book down on my mahagony bunny-shaped nightstand, I heard the most intolerable racket outside. I’d given my receptionist (whose work is becoming more and more unsatisfactory daily) strict orders to employ any means necessary to keep those people out. It seemed he’d resorted to violence. I wasn’t going to get any sleep with that racket outside so, sighing, I materialized in the foyer and was not at all surprised to see Solon, fiercely struggling against the tentacles of my receptionist. The poor kid had been having a lot of trouble recently and I’d been seeing him atleast biweekly. I felt pretty sorry for him as I knew he wouldn’t be getting too much credit in history, certaintly nothing like Jefferson or Madison (something it had been difficult to resist telling him when he got on my nerves) so I’d let him come in unnannounced when he was in a real fix. This newest assault on my privacy was a little too presumptuous for my tastes, though. Grudgingly, I ordered my receptionist to free him and told him in no uncertain terms what I thought of his intrusion, before asking him what he wanted. Looking back, I really wish I hadn’t asked, because who knows, if I hadn’t specifically inquired he might not have had the nerve to ask me to acompany him to Greece, which definitely wasn’t my idea of a dream holiday ( a short sojourn in my bed would have been more like it). But it’s not my place to complain, so I promised him I’d be along. Now I’m going to be stuck in that puny little peninsula for goodness-knows-how-long while he drones on about his problems. Drat.
Who’s Solon?
31- A Greek lawmaker.
24, 25 – It made me smile, though.
16- yes, people from other countries can speak english well.
Dear Diary,
Today I played tricks on everybody at the palace to entertain Jabba. I tied up Bib Fortuna’s head-tail thingies when he was sleeping. I put a trampoline in the Rancor pit so that whenever the guards push somebody in, they bounce right back up.
One of the disembodied brain things stepped on my tail. ‘Going to have to do something to him tomorrow.
I hope my Muse comes. It always takes a while for them to ship it to Tatooine, but it’s worth it. Kokopelli is my idol. Reading about him always helps me think of new material.
Later,
Salacious Crumb
Dear Diary,
Hello! I am a hot-pink bunny. No, don’t look at me like that. Yes, I bunnify people. It’s my job.
Today, I realized some MuseBloggers (curse them) made a bunny-proof suit with a gun-thingy that un-bunnifies bunnies.
I hate MuseBloggers. CURSE THEM!!! We need to go into hiding soon!
Yours hot-pink-ish,
HPB
Dear Diary,
I have now bunnified a certain few people, which means that yes,
I am now a fully qualified hpb! great! this is a very short entry because i am about to go out and bunnify some more!
35- I’m (pretty) Sure that they are monks from be for jabba took over the place.
38- Yup, the B’omar monks, but Salacious doesn’t respect them enough to call them by their real name.
Dear HPD (hotpink diary)
Today I hopped around and invaded some SSSS’s, then I tried to jump on a GAPAs head and bunnify them, but they were wearing a bunny proof suit. Darn.
Bye!
HPB
This is Aeiou-
Dear Diary,
Why does everyone think I can’t talk? I CAN talk! I just had a sore throat for 5 years, and by then people forgot I talked! It just isn’t fair…..and craww doesn’t translate correctly, anyway.
Aeiou.
41- she speaks, well, SPOILER for aptil issue…
Stop! I haven’t gotten it yet!
Dear Diary,
Well, I can safely say that once again, the galaxy is going to the dogs. I’m a princess, I’m being interrogated under torture by the Empire, and who do they send to rescue me? A cocky smuggler and some snot-nosed kid. We’re doomed.
Later…
Well, things have changed, but the outlook is still bleak. Remember the snot-nosed kid? Turns out he’s a Jedi, although he looks like he couldn’t fight his way out of a garbage compacter. And the cocky smuggler? Cocky is an understatement. He’s rude, over-confident, trigger-happy, and I find him extrememly attractive.
Like I said, we’re doomed.
~Leia~
44 – Ha ha!!
44- There actually was a Leia journal published by Lucasfilm a while back. I have it on my bookshelf.
Maximum Ride! Wait, I can’t do that… her books are in first person already. Poop. Um… ooh! Sorry for the fanaticism, but FIRESTAR! Don’t care if cats can’t write. {Takes place after Dark River but before Outcast}
It was very hot today. What’s great about this lake territory is that we have a permanent source of water, even if the streams dry up: the lake! But my mind keeps going back to Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost. I can’t really remember what happened that day, just that I got stuck in a trap and that Hawkfrost was dead by the time I got out. I wish I could ask Brambleclaw what happened. I mean, he is my deputy. But I just can’t work up the courage. And I would go ask Leafpool, but I don’t think she’s the right one. It’s just been so confusing. And Squirrelflight’s kits… Hollypaw and Lionpaw seem all right, and Hollypaw especially seems a lot happier since she became a warrior apprentice. But Jaypaw seems to be hiding something. Every cat seems to be hiding someone these days… And I’m not even sure I can make it through the season with all of these secrets and responsibilities pounding through my head.
Holy crap, that was angsty! I had no idea Firestar was so… deep. I think I’ll do either Trinity or, like, Winter (from Leven Thumps) next.
46 – Really? I would like to see that.
47 – No spoilers!!! I’m still trying to read the series before that.
Dear Diary,
Went to see Aeiou today to talk about updating IA. Was halfway through a pleasant talk when who should come in but Pwt! Obviously, Craww skedaddled when Pwt came. As I couldn’t talk to Aeiou without Craww, I walked back to the lab. Fairly dismal.
-Chad
Dear Diary,
More discrimination today. Why do people have to judge us by the color of our skin?
Yes, I am–and I am ashamed to say it–a hot-pink bunny. Please, don’t run. We’re highly misunderstood. Every day, I’ll be walking (hopping) down the street, perfectly at peace with the world, and then some Muse reader will see me and everything goes to pot. I mean people screaming, running, the whole nine yards. What a disaster. And all the while I’m just standing there, minding my own business. Like I said, totally misunderstood.
While it is true that I can bunnify people, I am a civilized bunny–a vegetarian, if you will. I try to deny my need as much as possible. But it is difficult…
Ah well. I’m doomed either way. So until the next Muse issue…
HPB
48- I think it was called Princess Leia: Captive to Evil
Dear Journal,
Roving at Home Plate, not much new. Some creeps back home tried to shut me down a few days ago, but the Family raised enough money to prevent it. Government goons are always grubbing for money so they can have bigger houses. But why they have to pick on us innocent robots is beyond me. Thinking about them makes my six wheels shake.
Later,
Spirit
Dear Diary,
Another dismal day.
Bellatrix is SO getting on my nerves. We had a thing for a while there, but then she started going all crazy on me. I should tell her to go easier on the hair gel, not to mention the whole goth thing– it’s a bit melodramatic, and I never cared for fishnet. Basic black is SO much classier.
As for Potter…well, he’s a bit of a bugger, but I’ll get him eventually. Not too worried about it. After all, it’s not as though he could know about the Horcruxes. That would be absurd.
Sigh…another day, another step closer to world domination. Until then–
Voldy
51 – Cool. *off to the library*
Ok, I’m going to continue the one I started before.
Dear Diary,
Greece has been a deal better than I expected (nowhere close to a nap, of course, but not bad). Solon overworked me the first few days dragging me all around Athens to point out this-and-that defect in the plan I had originally suggested, forgetting that it was in fact his own. But, after I gave him a piece of my mind, he started leaving me alone, only asking that I give him an hour or so a day. I could have gone back and attended to the twelve-thousand people probably queing up to see me even as I write this, but I honestly couldn’t stand the thought of it. So, I’ve been spending most of my day in the agora and leaving my receptionist to grapple with them. He’ll manage, people with tentacles always do. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that some people are actually capable of completing a transaction without consulting me. Pericles impressed me very favorably. I’ve even begun to look for his company (not something I can say for any of those other imbeciles who occupy positions of power). There are a couple others whom I can stand too. My brain is being stimulated by a conversation for the first time in years. And the fantastic weather’s been a plus. But the best thing of all sprung from a chance occurence yesterday. I was hanging around the Delphi oracle (the old fraud) when who should turn up by my old friend Urania. She practically rammed into me, in fact. She was about to dash off (she later explained that she wanted to set up her telescope as it was to be a very clear night) but then she caught sight of me and stopped abruptly. “You! Oh my big dipper, its you! I’m absolutely delighted to see you. Its been an eon.” We quickly entered into a warm conversation which culminated with her inviting me to dinner to “meet a couple friends.” Laughingly, I replied that I already knew the other 8 Muses, to which she mysteriously responded, “Not these you don’t.” Intrigued, I hurried home to change, the sooner to find out the meaning of her mysterious comment. When I had first come to Greece, I took up quarters in the Acropolis. Spiffing view, nice architecture, etc. Having accidently materialized on the roof of the temple, I landed pretty hard on my feet and experienced some discomfort but it receded in a sec and I hurried into the main body, mostly whole. I promised to meet Solon now so I’ll have to give the very-fascinating account of my dinner later. Hope the kid doesn’t drone on too much. I’m getting tired of the sound of his voice.
More later.
54- You’re doing very well with the one I started. Keep it up. I might contribute again later.
55-Thanks. By the way, I did not mean to imply that I started it when I said “that I started” in 54, I just meant the one that I sarted writing on before and it came out sounding a little wee bit corckscrew. Pwease (I said it again so ha) do contribute!
Dear Diary,
As promised: an account of my excessively exceptional dinner at Urania’s house. Just as I was about to set out, I realized I hadn’t a clue where I was headed. Absent-minded as Urania was and preoccupied as I was, we hadn’t succeeded in exchanging adressess. To make a long story short, after a good 45 minutes of consulting phone books, yahoo people search (remarkably unreliable when it comes to deities), and a spot of ever-useful time travel, I found her. Her house was a not-very-quaint observatory made out of the strangest materials imaginable. I swear I recognized an ipod somewhere in the rubble. Instead of a door, there was a hole in the wall with a checkered tablecloth covered in uncouth and strangely colored wet spots hanging over it. I made a mental note to ask her how many of her neighbors were now permanent residents at state mental institutions. Inhaling deeply I entered this monstrous excuse for a building, expecting to find worse horrors within. How wrong I was.
NOTE:this is not the end of the entry, however I am breaking off writing. SOmeone please oh please continue.
Continuing…
Upon entering, I found a sign stating “This way to Dinner!”, surprised to find a clear path, I wandered onward. After walking through several rooms, I found the path emerged into a huge open room. In the center of the room was a huge telescope, surrounded by many smaller ones. In the center of the room was Urania, staring through the large telescope.
“Urania!” I cried.
“Yes, yes.” she responded, come over here, and look through this telescope.”
“But where’s the table, and the food?”
“Never mind that, just look through this.”
So I walked over, and I looked…
What I saw was, well, shocking to say the least.
*lacks inspiration*
Sorry, somebody has to continue.
In the middle of an ordinary night scene as seen from a extremely powerful telescope: a handful of nebulas, some galaxies and the like, were 8 strangely formed, to say the least, creatures, fighting eachother with all of their strength. One of them, a sketchy (and I mean that as a pun, for he was both sketchy and had the appearance of having been sketched) black, well “thing” for lack of a better word was brandishing an immense pie. Another, with an Egyptian visage and wearing Egyptian garb was intent, or so it seemed from the direction in which he was moving,on catching a black crow who was flying around calling out some of the worst poetry I had every heard. Yet another, triangular in body in face, stood apart from the melee, commanding everyone to be nice. One was whipping red kimono sleeves all over, thereby significantly contributing to the commotion and the last seemed to be nonchalantly engaged in fiddling with wires. Now, I am accustomed to strange scenes, but this was something, even for me. It seemed to be something for Urania too. “Off My telescope lens,” she howled. Then, flushed, she turned to me and said, “Allow me to introduce you to my new friends, the modern muses.” “Wha!”I practically yelled.
“Modern Muses. THats unheard off.” “Speaking confidentially,” she said, lowering her voice, that was my reaction too. But they’re not at all bad once you get to know them.” I think she judged from my expression that I was far from buying into this, so she said, “Fine, they’re unbearable, but in a very likable way. Their company’s a little addictive, you’ll soon find. But look, forget it, I’ll explain everything. Just look through the telescope again” Sighing, I put my eye to the eyepiece. THis time the fight scene was cleared from view and I saw clearly an editorial office. “Thats what I intended to show you the first time,” she explained.
It was a star–or rather, one about to be. Rose petals of gas and leaves of smoke enfolded a glowing bud the fiery pink color of a sunset. As I watched, there was a sudden burst of light, and the alien flower blossomed, shooting out tendrils and vines to its neighbors. Lightning seemed to be flashing from its core, so great was its raw energy, its newness, its power. Spellbound, I watched until the ball cooled, forming finally a bright, glowing spark.
A star was born.
I have to say this was much more along the lines of what I’d intended to see the first time. Urania was firmly convinced that we all shared her infatuation with stars and was always shocked when my expressions of delght were half-hearted. This time, the event was just pretty enough for me to muster a sufficiently enthusiastic response. Not that a star’s birth was anything new to me. The first thousand years or so were the universe’s baby boom era and it was difficult to open your eyes without seeing a couple more come ricocheting out of space. But one can never have too much of a good thing.
Lately, however, the birth of stars was getting rarer and it was a beautiful sight. And yet… As I looked at the star, it appeared to change its shape. It became a… Whack! Something had hit my back. As I stuck my hand on it, I discovered it was something sticky…
“It’s a pie.” Urania said disgustedly, “He’s here.”
“Who?” I cried.
“Kokopelli, the worst Modern Muse.” she said, “I’ll show him!”
I made some feeble attempt to wipe the projectile pastry out of my hair, but, giving it up as a bad job, I decided to go meet this infamous character whom Urania described as, “the worst Modern Muse.”
Another pie came whizzing through the door, as usual preceding its creator. Kokopelli waltzed in, in time to hear Urania’s last comment. “‘The worst’, for a Trickster, is the same as the best.”
I swung around. Said Kokopelli looked to me like the sketchy character I had so recently seen on Urania’s telescope lens and I sighed. I knew the type. They usually meant trouble. Long years of associating with humans and deities had taught me when it was tactful to keep my mouth shut, however, and instead of disclosing the semi-offensive contents of my mind, I said politely, “Pleased to make your aqquaintance.” He grinned from ear to ear (if those two little black lines protruding from his square head can be counted as such) and eagerly reached out a hand. I had far from expected such a warm gesture of amiability and I dared to hope that I might have been mistaken after all. In fact, I had already begun to condemn myself for my hasty decision that he was a bad bannana. Ahh, the audacity of hope. The second my hand touched his, I felt the most intolerable gooiness spreading through it.
I withdrew my hand hastily, and wiped it away as best I could.
“Eww, what a slimeball!” I thought to myself, but to him I merely said, with a forced smile, “I hope we’ll get along well!”
My response didn’t phase him, although I was sure he heard the edge of sarcasm in it. Instead he merely grinned evilly and hopped over to the telescope. He stuck one eye to its lens (or at least, it appeared to be an eye) and looked in silence for a moment. But then he turned to Urania. “I don’t see anything.”
Urania put her head in her hands. “Of course you knocked it out of line. I should have locked the door.” She moved gracefully to the telescope, and took Kokopelli’s place at the lens. Her face was despairing, but as I watched, it became frowning, then surprised, then astonished to the point where her mouth dropped open. “Oh my!” she said excitedly. “Come, come look!”
Well, this seemed to be an evening full of surprises. We hadn’t even sat down to eat and already, madness in several forms.
Well, this seemed to be an evening full of surprises. We hadn’t even started dinner yet, and already, madness in every possible form.
Help, I can’t post! This is mortifying. *breathes deeply* *tries again*
Well, this seemed to be an evening full of surprises. We hadn’t even sat down to dinner yet, and already, madness in every feasible form.
Erm…I guess the part “Well” through “form” is the next installment? Just double-checking.
73-Yep. Sorry about the confuzzlement.
I bustled over to Urania and looked through the telescope again. I saw the same Modern Muses as I had before. This time, however they were coming closer to me. They were looking straight at me!
“Aaaaah!” I screamed as I moved away from the telescope. Urania, not listening to my scream, moved directly to the telescope. After a second, she fainted! I turned to leave the room, but found my way blocked by Kokopelli and an escort of…
THis thread feels dead. And I don’t have much interest in reviving it to be honest. Maybe later…it was fun while it lasted…
OK…
DEAD THREAD RESCUE SQUAD!!!!!! ALL SYMPATHETIC MBERS COME HERE NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m here! Do you really want to revive this?
This thread should be revived. It’s completely dead.
Dear Diary,
This will probably be my last entry in this. It’s also my first.
I’m dying as we speak. Some MuseBloggers are trying to revive me (Enceladus) but I think I’m beyond revival. I had so much fun, reading the thought of diaries by everyone who came here, but they’re all gone. Well, the MuseBloggers are still around, but they’ve forgotten me. Enc will probably forget me too. I wish I was not dead.
-This thread.
Dear piece of crumpled paper,
I stink at writing diary entries, but I also want to revive this thread. So, my mom just yelled at me because I forgot which month was after April! hen we had a pointless argument about whether it was June or July, but then I figured out that it was May. Now that I know that, I am hopelessly trying to calculate the exact date of when I’ve been on here for six months. If anybody knows, don’t tell me! I am on a roll. Goodbye, because I fail at this, but I’ll be back.
-Keiffer Lining.
Dear whomever is reading this however many years into the future,
This thread is dead, although it looks interesting. I’ve tried in vain to keep a journal for years, but I am not dedicated. Same goes for instruments. Sophia writes in her journal nearly every day, for the sole purpose of having her future grandchildren read it. I don’t think that I’d want my future grandchildren to read my diary. But oh well. Daddy is renovating the front-porch-room, which is why we currently have an extra couch in the living room (Last night while watching Mythbusters and movies with Logan Lerman in them, Kelly decided it needed a name. So now the couch is named Out-Of-Place), and Mom is out with Cindy because yesterday was Cindy’s birthday, and she’s going to be out all day, which means I’ll probably end up eating Cinnamon Toast Cruch with whipped cream for lunch again. Daddy is a dreadful cook, so I just eat whatever I can find in the pantry. Mom said she is going to go to Italy for a week by herself, and leave Daddy and me to fend for ourselves. I think that by the end of that week I will never eat hot dogs or cereal again. Right now I am supposedly working on my story, but I don’t really like it. Kate is at church, as are Kelly and Sophia, so I have nothing to do today. I don’t really mind though.
Right now I am listening to “Good Night” by The Beatles. It is a really stupid song, but Kate thinks it’s hysterical so it’s on my iPod. I’m going to close this now. Now I’m listening to “Walking With A Ghost” by Tegan & Sara. Lily, along with everybody else but me, hates this song. I think that my iPod is broken or something. The music doesn’t sound right. This is probably because I keep dropping it everywhere and getting it wet and stuff.
Well that was really pointless. Good-bye. Six days ’till the Kokon!
Love,
Silver Keiffer
Dear American Girl Doll,
You must have a great life, especially if you belong to a rich ten-year-old who doesn’t pull your hair. Imagine! All the accessories and clothes you could possibly want, and you get played with all the time. Never a school day, never a painful orthodontist appointment ( actually, they have stick-on braces for American Girl dolls, but that’s not the point ). Also, you have several doll friends ( if this owner is rich ). You’re always pretty…ish, and get to stay in your bed for a long, long time each morning. Ah, the life of an American Girl doll. It is enviable. However, I believe I would be bored.
Love,
Princess_Magnolia ( who does keep a journal, just like Anne Frank )
Dear Whomever,
Tomorrow is the Kokon!!!!!! I blathered on about it all day. I love my friends because they actually put up with me, if you can believe it! Do you think it’s bad that if I was not me and I was friends with me, I would think that I was the most obnoxious person I’d ever met?
That did not make sense.
Love,
Silver Keiffer
P.S. Those who are dead, are not dead, they’re just living in my head… Enc, be proud! I listen to Coldplay now!
P.P.S. The current count of people in my pretty drawing is eleven. How accomplished I feel. (I cannot decide if that was sacastic or not.)
Dear Silver Keiffer in response to your last post,
I don’t think it’s bad Silver Keiffer, I think that’s totally… abnormal. (I didn’t want to say norm**.)
-Silver Keiffer
P.S. Tomorrow
P.P.S. is the
P.P.P.S. KOKON!!!!!!!!
P.P.P.P.S. YAY!
Dear Keiffer Lining,
Good. I’m glad that you found it
normabnormal. AHHHHHHH the Kokon is tomorrow!Love,
Silver Keiffer
Dear whoever bought the school computers,
You should go die in a pit somewhere in the unknow regions of Atlantis. No… wait… not Atlantis, then you might give them the plague or something. Go die in a pit somwhere in a bigger pit!
Keiffer.