This is my 408'th entry. What the HELL have I written about? I have no idea. I don't see this as a place where I have recorded my reality, not by a long shot. It's more like this thing is an addition to my life, like a scrap book. A concert review here. A childhood memory there. Yet there's a billion things I never even mentioned - "Today I feel so ugly I barely managed to go outside the apartement" or "*bleep* is an asshole!" or the numerous times I went out and ate with Gene, or watching TV with Aziza or the funny thing that happened in class.

This is just for some snap shots. But you knew that.

And that, folks, is writing an entry out of 'I have nothing to write today'. See, so many times it's sooo hard to figure out anything that should go down in letters and words on a page. I woke up. I worked on my cross-stitching. I made some toast with cherry marmalade. I dressed, brushed my hair and left.

Or I could the egg story I just told Jessica online: I once cracked an egg making pancakes and inside was a dead chicken, a week or two away from being hatched. Totally depressing.

Or I could tell about Thomas di Leva, the space flower. But nah. I won't. I'll go home and read my Minette Walters book and do some cross-stitching and give this another go on monday.